Does my horse love me?

I love my horse, but I’ve been asking the question recently: Does my horse love me? Followed by the related questions of do horses love anywhere near the way humans think of love? Does it matter? Can we be friends? What DO I want from my horse and what can I give her? What is best for her needs as a creature in my care?

I came across an article by Australian horseman Ross Jacobs (Why Can’t I be my Horse’s Best Friend?) where he considered if we are looking for horses to fill an unreasonable expectation of relationship, or if we expect to fill an unreasonable relational position in their world. 

Today, horses rarely exist as a necessity for our daily lives. Few of us rely on them for life and livelihood. Most of us keep horses by choice for enjoyment. We might participate in an equine sport, trail ride for pleasure, or even use our horses in some chore or farm job, but rarely do we in the developed west depend on them for primary travel or farm work. Most people I know who have horses care for them as a large outdoor pet. Most people I know love their horses. Regardless of the actual statistics, I don’t think I’m alone in saying I love my horses and admitting the desire for my horses to be my friend. 

With an animal so different from a human, is this possible to the extent I wish it? How would I measure this friendship? Is it a reasonable wish?

I am also a dog person. Dogs already have the nickname of “man’s best friend” and there must be a reason we gave that title to the dog and not the horse. One thing we share with the canine is the predator nature. We both work for food, and have the instinct to survive by overcoming and climbing as close to the top of the food chain as possible. Horses are not like us, in fact they are naturally a direct opposite of us in how they perceive and process their environment and how they go about their day.

My dog Samwise really is my little buddy. He regularly chooses to be close to me, he is always excited when I come home. When I sit in the mornings to read and write with my coffee, he always comes and sits as close as possible, if he isn’t touching me he isn’t close enough. If he engages in a behavior that disconnects our relationship he is quick to repent and is always seeking to reestablish connection. These are evidence for my case that Sam is a kind of animal friend to me.

When I look at horses, they don’t generally want to touch each other, at least not unless there is a reason- usually being the need to correct a horse for inappropriate behavior. Occasionally there are mutual grooming sessions, but this seems more like meeting a need than the dog attribute of laying close together in a puppy snuggle pile.

I am certain horses are capable of thought and emotion. I don’t know how complex these systems get. I believe horses don’t lie, and they don’t plot and scheme together for future barn take overs. I don’t believe they think over how to complicate life for us on the next trail ride. They learn by experience what works out for them and what does not. They are fabulous at observing and learning patterns and can be incredibly smart when it comes to connecting and even chaining together patterns. I believe as prey animals, they are wired to flee problems, discomfort and imbalances in their environment in order to survive another day. I also think horses have preferences and distinct personalities.

What would it look like for a horse to love a person? I remember Iva talking about her experiences at various local schooling barns as a young teen. She has a quiet spirit and has always been keenly observant. She told me that she would look around at the horses and the horse girls and see them cooing about how much their horse loves them and to her eye it seemed clear to her that the horse was rather uncomfortable or unhappy in their time together. Horses are subtle creatures. Would a twelve year old girl who wanted to believe her horse loved her and was her friend be able to tell if this were actually true? Do we still do this as horse girls grown up? Do we really want to know?

This essay by Ross Jacobs grabbed my attention because I had been thinking about my own connection to Khaleesi and how it has developed over time. I started her from an unhandled four year old without much human baggage, but she has still had about four different owners in her fifteen years, all of them being me. She was my first horse to start as a filly and the process of growing up with her certainly impacted me, and I’ve experimented with a few different horsemanship avenues along the years that have impacted how she felt about spending time with me. 

In my earliest years with owning horses as an adult, I remember considering my first horse (Faygo) my friend, therapist, confident, and adventure buddy. Today I see that was an immature starting point of understanding these majestic creatures and how we might relate in a way that is good for both them as us. 

Now I cringe at the memes that claim horses are therapists. In fairness I know it is therapeutic to be in nature and it has helped me grow as a human being to understand my horse and how we relate on a more simplified relational level and truth about myself has been revealed in the process. So if you would champion those truths as a reason to call horses “therapy” then I stand with you. However I can’t get behind the practice of subjecting my horse to carrying my emotional baggage for the long term, and fix heart issues I don’t want to put the work in to resolve. I attempt to bring my honest, best self to work with my horse as I want to see her honest best as well. In nature, horses do not want other horses in their herds who have emotional instability, and I think it’s quite rare in nature. Emotional instability is inherently dangerous to survival. I think most emotional instability in horses we see comes from experiences with humans.

As I ponder the behavior of my main working horse, Khaleesi, I have been on a journey to increasing her freedom and choice within the confines of the fact that we always have limitations within our freedom, and every choice comes with consequences. Still, I have been letting go of trained pattern auto-pilot behaviors (push-buttons) in favor of as conversational real-time communication as I can get between two such different creatures and she and me. What is the impact of this between us? I will admit I do not think that horses (or dogs for that matter) have the kind of love that humans are able to engage in, however I want my animals to want to spend time with me. I am not sure if I would call this friendship today with my horse, but I certainly want a solid positive connection. 

What does this look like? Maybe take a moment and ponder this yourself and consider your own answer? 

Would it look like her coming right over to me in the pasture when I arrive? Seeking to be close to me when I’m in her space? Putting her head in the halter ready to go do something together? As I look at my short list, I see they are all physical signs. 

What is the reality of our experience? It varies. If I don’t have a halter she is often curious because usually I have some form of food. She comes right to me when I’m carrying hay or a warm meal. Is this friendship and connection? Possibly! But it’s not about me, it’s friendship and connection with hay and feed!

When I do have a halter, sometimes she stands in place while I approach her and when she is ready she always dips her head at least slightly into the noseband. But some days she runs around like a maniac and kicks out her hind legs with clear messages of: NO! I’m not going with you right now. If I am not clearly carrying food, she almost never approaches me looking to go into the halter and see what I had in mind. I think there are times in years gone by this horse was more reliable and easier to catch in the field. That was when I had more training and conditioned responses built in. Is this good or bad? What is behind these behaviors?

I do know horses like patterns. When I had the approach of more natural horsemanship, direct pressure driving, and there’s right answer- let me increase the pressure until you give it to me, I think she was slightly more likely to be caught sooner. Maybe horses appreciate the confidence of a right answer and a conditioned response they don’t have to engage in thinking. Humans are not much different in that respect. Apparently most of us spend a vastly higher percentage of formulative conversations than generative ones. We prefer the how are you? I’m fine thanks for asking… exchanges. We get uncomfortable if someone takes what is supposed to be a formulative and quick exchange and turn it into a generative conversation that is less predictable. And yet there is almost no true connection in a formulative conversation. Connection is more time consuming and risky. I find myself drawn to generative conversations and a generative life. Maybe some horses find the formula, rules and auto-pilot way of life a bit simpler. Maybe my horse, on some days, would rather stand at peace in the sun than have to work out together how to get something done. Is that so wrong? 

Maybe even that assessment is too complex. When we set up patterned behavior and horses learn that compliance is the best path, they seem to be agreeable. They don’t have much freedom of thought or choice when we enter the picture. If we have a halter, they answer is go with the person and do the things. Conditioned response learned from patterns in experience. I do think horses some horses who are trained to respond in a way an owner prefers is seen as the horse being willing or being a buddy/friend. It may or may not be true if the horse has learned this is the response that means less trauma. They can respond with the “right” answer and still not feel very good about it and still have their mind over with their buddies in the sunshine. I’ve found the horses are actually pretty good at pretending to be present where the body is, going on autopilot, but actually having their mind somewhere else. This works out ok, until it doesn’t! Easy, simple, and routine doesn’t mean bad or good. In any relationship, lack of conflict does not equal strong connection. Of course regular conflict does not equate a good or strong connection either.

On the other hand, the horse who does always approach me in the field regardless if I have food, a halter, or a rake to clean the run in, is Wyoming. For many years I could assure you this horse was NOT my friend and we did not have a good connection. I would guess she approached me because I was an invader of their space and their current life situation and she had the curiosity to find out why and possibly intervene if she could. This horse taught me that the act of approaching in the field was not an indicator that the horse wanted to be my friend. We have come a long way, she and me, toward a more positive relationship, but it’s in her nature to come greet me whenever I enter the field, where its’s still Khaleesi’s quieter nature to watch me from a distance and conserve her energy as she stands in the sun or munches on hay. 

Some horses simply seem to have different personalities and different ways of reacting. I’ve known some people who are constantly looking for a different horse, sometimes they finally seem to find one that suits them. I think they have in mind what a “good horse” is like, and the horse that fits that mold in how they approach the world is the type of horse that will work for them. 

What about the days when Khaleesi stands quietly as I come in with a halter and then when I approach her, hold out my hand and she touches with her nose briefly, and then waits while I step over to her neck and offers the halter- she lowers her nose and then walks with me when I lead her out? She doesn’t approach me, but is the fact that she is calm and relaxed enough to wait for me to come to her a sign that we are, if not actually friends, at least on good terms? My presence did not disturb her relaxation in peace. So far in her life I have observed she is a naturally aloof mare, maybe this response aligns with her honest nature.  Maybe it’s similar to the truth that there are people who naturally greet and hug everyone and people who tend to stay in place until the new arrival makes their way over to them and then has a pleasant conversation without feeling the need to physically touch with a hug? Is one bad and one good? Or is one simply preferable to certain people and less inviting to others?

What about the days when K is downright difficult to catch and tries to evade me at least for a time? Do we have a bad connection? Or do we have a strong one? Does she know she has the freedom to express her thought about leaving the pasture? As a lead mare, she usually has reasons on these days that might have nothing to do with me. She may sense a dangerous presence nearby and doesn’t want to leave Wyoming alone. She may sense something in the environment and would prefer the safety of her yard to going for an adventure where the danger lurks. The fact that she is communicating clearly she does not want to be caught and haltered may not mean she doesn’t like me today. However I think if she ran every time I came to find her, that would seem an indication of how she feels about me, or the work she is going to be asked to do.

I don’t have confident answers to these questions. I am also not sure if they have any relevance. Is it ok that the twelve year old girl thinks her horse loves her when someone with a little more experience can see the signs that the horse is incredibly uncomfortable? I’ve known people who always carry some kind of treat for their horse when they go out in the pasture, and they will tell you their horse loves them. I’m both a little jealous because who doesn’t love their horses always coming to greet them, but I know too much to allow myself to think the horse loves me in that case, so it wouldn’t work for me anyway. From an outside perspective however, when the horse comes running to them it sure looks more convincing than my horse jogging away with two hind feet kicked up in my direction.

It might be fun and make us feel good to convince ourselves that horses feel the warm and fuzzies about us, but then what? What happens when something tests the connection? Will it survive? Does that matter?

Yes. This I do know. Our connection to the horse will be tested someday when their brain or instinct wants to do something very different from what we need them to do where our safety could be on the line. If we don’t have a strong, healthy, real, connection we can lean into, it’s likely the horse will not be able to stay engaged when things go sideways, we can end up on the ground, in the hospital or if we’re lucky just a good scare. I think a fair amount of equestrian injuries come from deep misunderstanding of what is going on between the person and the horse. In fairness, even with a good connection things can go wrong quickly leaving us injured, but there are times that connection can save our lives because we need the horse to set aside it’s instinct to stay with us and think through what we are asking. If the connection is true, it makes a big difference when the turkeys (or grouse) leave the road. If we aren’t honest about what’s really going on between us we may not know the kind of thin ice we’re actually walking- especially if we are lucky enough to not fall through the cracks very often.

Just like between people, this kind of connection and relationship has to be built through experience over time.

Ross asserts that one challenge we face in really becoming a friend to our horses, is that they do not see their days as meant for flying lead changes, trail riding for hours, having their hooves trimmed, or whatever else we want to do with them… He observes being a horse is about grazing, drinking, snoozing in the sun, chasing away a pesky new herd mate, and etc. One problem is we are generally an interruption in their day, not a true part of their lives. They might be willing to engage in our desired activity, but take care not to automatically equate obedience with willingness. 

Ross asserts that it is not bad to want to be your horse’s friend, or hope your horse wants to spend time with you. I agree for sure. I suppose I wonder how much a predatory human on two legs can provide in terms of what we look at as a true companion to a horse. He found the times he went long-trekking for hundreds of miles were the closest he came to possibly becoming enough a part of his horse’s life experience that they had a bond that became almost a friendship. He was not an interruption anymore, they were doing life together 24/7 as they moved across the landscape each day. I suppose folks who actively work their horses in real life jobs have a tighter bond than I am likely to even have with my horses, even as an endurance rider who occasionally spends entire weekends together.

Yet this is also ok. Is it possible I might go too far in what my expectations are for a willing partner to be also a best friend (when I have time for that friendship)? Does a horse have to love me in order to be a great partner? 

Maybe these answers are as unique as there are people with horses. For me, I am beginning to question if we have to be friends the way humans think of friendship. Some people might feel the need for their horse to come running every time they enter the scene or their feelings are hurt. For me, right now, I think it’s more honest that my horse doesn’t have the same response every day, and I do want her to be have integrity of thought and feeling more than a compliance mindset. There are probably people not ready to have generative conversations with their horses, and compliance and obedience is going to be the best they have in this season. When you begin to allow your horse a real voice in the conversation, like with any relationship that enters a deeper level, we may hear things we don’t really want to hear. Ignorance can be bless! Sometimes when my friend Tom Moates helps a horse come out of a shut down and compliant place the people don’t really like what had been safely buried down in there. They’d prefer the shut down, dulled out, compliant horse, in many ways that’s easier than having real conversations and figuring out that the horse needs more than we have the tools to provide yet.

One thing I am sure of, I want my horse, even if she sees me as an interruption in her day, to not find our time together painful, confusing, or anxiety creating. I do want to know what my horse thinks and feels, and I want to be able to have influence over those thoughts and feelings. I want the work I do with my horse to leave her in a better place physically, mentally and emotionally better than she was before. I fail at this from time to time, but I believe it is possible. I want our connection to be based as much as possible in truth and reality. May I honor my horse for the wonderful creature she is and not who I want to think she is, as I know I have done in years past. My understanding of this over time may shift with new experiences, but may I always be curious and open minded to see what is actually in front of me and not a projection of what I wish were so.