often learning how horses talk is learning to listen with our eyes..
and ears and to sense it also but often with our eyes…
Sampson the high withered black thoroughbred-ish gentleman who we now feel his age is somewhere between 15 – 18 yrs
gave a great lesson in horses talking Sunday..
with the voice that often goes unheard..
the four horses had exercised in the arena..taken turns being tied to the tree for a patience lesson .. taught everyone a little about lunging a horse on a line and every horse and every person had a personal best….when it was time to go and horses were hugged and petted .. halters were removed..lead ropes coiled up we headed to open the gate to the park area so horses could go to the mesquite filled shady-spots cool place that they love..
we’re heading down the fence line toward the arena gate eighty feet away when Sampson cuts across our path from the left..walks boldly toward the fence on our right..we’re walking down the fence..
he’s perpendicular to it..cutting us off..blocking the path..
blocking so definitely one more step we’d have our faces planted in horse hair..at first am thinking it’s “block the way” game horses play with each other.. alpha horse or one of the upper rung horses on the pecking order ladder sometimes block a gate so other horses have to wait..but he’s not alpha usually lets everyone go first..
it’s bold not subtle..
as we stand there Deb notices Sampson blinking ..blinking again..he puts his head down .. rubs his eye on his front leg..as his head comes up his eye rolls back in his head..he blinks.. and again.. and barely noticeable we see a tear start to drop from the corner of his eye..
is his eye just watering..dust in it maybe?..again he rolls his eye back..
looks at us..
Deb says “it’s his flymask..he wants his flymask”..i was waiting to see if she would get it..even offering other explanations..she got it..
like horse charades!..usually it’s more subtle but he’s teaching a great lesson..i walk back to the gate where his flymask is hanging and bring it to him…he bends his head down.. flymask goes on..ears adjusted..
forelock pulled out over the grey mask with the blue trim..he sighs..
meanders off to graze with the others..
and I wonder..did he just want it on?.. dust in his eye?..
was he showing her how he talks?..
or did he remember..last Sunday was the flymask lesson
and thought each Sunday should end that way..
only he knows..