Horses, Goats, and Assorted Critters

Shiloh, Sapphire, and Bronzz watch our grandson and puppy play in the snow

Sapphire loves goats. The day I’d toured a dairy goat farm, she couldn’t stop sniffing me. When a friend brought her black pygmy goat to visit, Sapphire rushed to the pasture fence to greet her like a long-lost friend. Though the goat ignored her, Sapphire hung close, sniffing with perky ears and happy nickers. The other two horses moseyed over for a look-see, and were chased off. They went willingly, deeming the goat less interesting than grass. When the goat left, Sapphire ran the fence line whinnying for her. Apparently, Sapphire hasn’t met a species she doesn’t like. Barking dogs can safely run figure eights around her legs, kittens have climbed her tail and dangled from her crest, and cows are no concern at all. She was even intrigued by the vet who arrived smelling of kangaroo. Many horses get along well with other species. My sister’s horse eats out around the barn cat who sleeps on top of her hay pile. Jazz, an aptly named Arab gelding, liked trail rides best with a dog in the lead. My neighbor’s horses accepted a miniature donkey gelding as if he were just a funny looking little horse. A Thoroughbred brood mare I knew shared her stall with a hen. The hen raised her chicks in a corner of the stall, along with the mare and foal, most amazing since the old mare was blind in one eye. If a horse’s initial impression of a species is not positive, it can sometimes be changed for the better. Sapphire and Bronzz spooked and carried on at their first sight of a donkey stallion, but ten minutes of intent observation told them whatever they needed to know. Henceforth they strolled on by his pasture without comment. Sassy the Standardbred snorted and tap-danced every time he saw cows, until he was introduced to team penning (of the recreational walk-trot variety). Confidence quickly replaced fear, and he decided that chasing cows was a splendid game. Some fears are too deep-rooted to change. Polly, otherwise a bold trail horse, froze in terror at the sight of cows all her life. It’s fair to assume she had a good reason. I know why Canada Geese frighten Bronzz. When he was a youngster, one of his pasture mates made the faux pas of inspecting a gosling. Papa goose disapproved. When the dust settled, the trembling gelding was plastered to the fence in the far corner of his pasture. It took weeks to persuade Bronzz to go past the goose pond, and he always walked on tiptoe, attention riveted on the geese while pretending not to look at them. Fourteen years later the mere sight of a goose triggers an anxiety attack, though he didn't bat an eyelash the time two grouse flew up in his face. Fear may also explain a horse’s animosity toward a particular species. Strange dogs top Bronzz’s hit list. He had little experience with dogs until two Rottweilers charged us as we rode past their house. Shaking in terror, Bronzz faced the advancing dogs only because I insisted. (Long ago, I was taught never let your horse bolt in a panic, and never run from a threatening dog.) When one of the Rotties circled behind us, Bronzz thumped him in the ribs with a hind foot, and they never bothered us again. Ten years of living with dogs who are not permitted to harass horses hasn’t improved his opinion of the species. At the sight of a strange dog, Bronzz still cocks a hind leg and waits with an expression that says, “Go ahead. Make my day.” Ironically, wild animals bother horses less often than dogs do. Though horses may be startled by deer in the woods, they often graze in the same pasture. Our horses have also shared pastures with foxes and coyotes, who mind their own rodent and rabbit hunting business. Wild animals hunt for food, normally avoiding prey that might inflict damage on them. One hapless bear speedily left our friends’ pasture when both of their geldings charged full speed straight at him! Loose dogs chase horses for sport, and descendants of dogs bred to fight can retain those instincts, just as retrievers fetch and terriers dig. Sapphire was bitten several years ago, her upper lip so badly torn that the surgeons had to remove part of it in order for her to eat. No one saw the attack, but we had repeatedly seen neighbor dogs in the pasture hazing the horses. Both dogs were breeds (a boxer and a pit bull mix) whose ancestors were bred to fight bulls by grabbing the nose and hanging on. A dog bite expert explained that wild animals attack prey by going for the spine or jugular; dogs grab noses and legs. If a horse’s initial experience with something is too frightening, it may never change. Prey animals survive by avoiding danger, so they can’t afford to forget anything scary, a powerful reason to make sure those momentous firsts in a horse’s life (first saddling, first ride, first trailer ride, etc.) are happy events. On the plus side, I see evidence that once a horse has a pleasant association with something, one bad experience doesn’t negate it. Bronzz’s first experiences with children, whom horses seem to view as a separate species, were charming little girls who petted him, admired him, and stuffed him with carrots. Later we encountered a child whose disturbed behavior frightened other horses, but Bronzz was simply entertained, supremely confident that no child could possibly mean him harm. Though Sapphire wouldn’t venture out to pasture at night for months after her injury, she did not develop a generalized fear of dogs. Whatever your horse’s reactions to other species, odds are he has good reasons. If you don’t know his history, those reasons might be as mysterious as Sapphire’s fascination with goats.