by Kathryn Kincannon
Dear Alpha Mare,
How can I tell if my horse – who faithfully meets me at the paddock gate every time I arrive to ride him – is greeting me or the mint he knows that I will give to him? It has made catching him so much easier by giving him mints at the gate rather than chase him around to bring him up to the barn, especially if I don’t have that much time to ride.
I know it is not good to always have a treat for him, and the times I don’t, he can be a bit of a pest constantly nudging me looking for it. I’d like to feel like my horse is genuinely glad to see me, not just happy to have something sweet to eat. What do I do?
Barbara
Dear Barbara,
Your question takes me back to one of my most embarrassing moments with horses.
Years and years ago, living in a California ski resort where we didn’t ride in the winter, I put my horse on a huge acreage in a big herd until spring. I went to visit him one day and he wasn’t about to be caught (back then, I was clueless about my own body language, so no wonder!).
So I came up with what I believed to be a fool-proof formula: sweet feed! (I can hear many of you groaning in anticipation of this story taking a very sharp turn south).
Very proud of my ingenuity, I swaggered out with my bucket, and a herd of about 50 horses nearly trampled me in their eagerness to gobble that grain. Traumatizing, to say the least! I’m sure the cowboys at that ranch are still telling the tale of that silly girl who thought bribing her horse was the key to its kingdom.
Horses are no different than the rest of us: they love treats! And we love giving them! We love to watch our horse munch contentedly on a gift given out of the goodness of our hearts. Or is it?
Who out there hasn’t given their horse a carrot before tacking up and prayed, deep down, that they would be good that day with no tantrums or spooks or anything that could get you hurt?
Who out there hasn’t come in from an exhilarating ride where their horse was as good as gold and couldn’t wait to give them an extra helping of grain or sweet feed or something to let them know how grateful they were?
And who out there hasn’t coaxed (or at least tried to coax) their horse into a trailer or out of a pasture with carrots? It is so natural for us to use food as a bribe or reward for positive behaviour (Pavlov certainly made it work for him!). It’s just our nature.
So, too, is it natural for our dogs. They operate with a hard-wired pack mentality where the “boss dog” literally “brings home the bacon” and then “shares the wealth” with their underlings who are, in turn, devoted and respectful for their well-being being attended to by one so powerful.
The giving of treats (on top of food) encourages even more adoration, and they do everything they can to please the boss dog, in hopes of more and better treats! Ah, life in the balance.
Horses, on the other hand, will bite the hand that feeds them. It is highly unnatural for a horse to associate food with relationships. It’s just food for goodness sake. What’s the big deal?
So yes, they will always take a treat, and relish every morsel of it, but many times you will find that hand-feeding horses can unleash a quite unbecoming Mr. Hyde personality.
When we introduce such a concept as treats into their reality, it plain makes no sense to them, so they can become very single-minded, even obsessive, about it – i.e. pushy, mouthy, intrusive, uppity, demanding, distracted, and high-strung. A nuisance at best, a menace at worst.
So why is this? In their natural state, horses fend for themselves for their food and find it on the ground all around them. Even domesticated herds, where horses have learned to rely on humans for food, will squabble over whose hay is whose according to hierarchy, and maybe share their food with a friend.
But you’ll never see the alpha horse “sharing the wealth” and giving her/his chosen flake of hay to those less fortunate in the pecking order. Not a chance. Dependency has no place in a herd mentality. “Mine! All mine!” is more the mantra for a horse.
So the problem with treats and horses is that they don’t always work. A horse, when they feel like it, will “take the bait” of a treat. But, when they don’t feel like it, they will give you a withering look as if to say: “You’ve got to be kidding. Do I look like a fool to you?”
And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just the way they are. And we’re just the way we are. A problem only develops if we mistakenly project the way we are onto the way they are. It just won’t work.
As ultra-aware and astute as your horse is (their survival depends on it), he will sniff out a trick disguised as a treat in a heartbeat (we’ve all seen horses reach in and nab a treat and, just as quickly, duck away to avoid being haltered).
So, if you have nothing better to offer them than a treat, they know it, and, well, okay, they’ll take it. But they’re not impressed.
And we’re really missing the point if we mistakenly associate the giving of treats with their liking us, respecting us, or even, heaven forbid, loving us.
The best thing you do can for your relationship with your horse is to exchange the bribe for something that really matters to him: communication skills.
Your taking the time to learn his language and then discover how to ask him, politely and courteously, to come with you (think the kind of “catch” it takes to catch a ball – i.e. draw back and absorb), will completely take the need for mints out of the picture.
When your horse realizes that the two of you can carry on an interesting and mutually respectful dialogue with each other, body to body, all of the time; when he can count on you to be the one that makes him feel safe and content and understood, he can begin to genuinely like you for you. And I think that’s what really matters most to us all.
Kathryn travels extensively with her husband, Chris Irwin, as a trainer and coach conducting clinics and “Train the Trainer” sessions throughout North America. They are currently developing Riversong Ranch Equestrian Retreat on the shores of the McLeod River just west of Edmonton.
If you have a question that you’d like Kathryn to answer in a future column, please email her at alphamare@telus.net
