Relative Something

Last weekend, the wedding we attended was held at the very place where Cyndie has cared for horses over the last year. It provided me the opportunity to observe some of the animals that she has shared stories about. The horses had all been moved out of the stable, and were spread among the multiple paddocks on the property.

After the sun had dropped below the horizon, but while there was still light in the sky, I wandered along a fence, alone, moving away from the tent filled with mingling wedding guests. I wanted to remove myself from the area immediately beside the tent, where they had kept two particularly social horses available for folks to pet and feed.

The next-nearest horses happened to be about 50 yards out, a group of three, grazing out in the middle of the open field. I stood still and soaked in the grandeur of the scene. It was a truly picture-perfect evening and the view was captivating. The partial moon was prominently on display in the clear evening sky. And there stood three spectacular horses, each with one front leg stepped forward to accommodate their comfortable reach to the green growth below, almost as if in an intentional formation.

Then one of the horses appeared to notice me. I wondered if, perchance, they would be inclined to approach a person standing at the fence. I hoped they might. The other two horses glanced my way, but they immediately returned their attention to the ground. But the first one began to move forward. First, a few tentative steps, then, back to the ground, just for a second. Then it was head up and looking at me again. I stood motionless and stared. The horse did a bit of a trot, though a hesitant one, and began to move more sideways than toward me. The whole time, his attention was fixed in my direction.

The horse reached the edge of the paddock and then appeared to put on a little show for me. He bit the top board of the fence and pulled at it. I could see all the muscles of his neck tense up. I wondered if he was trying to tell me something. I thought maybe he was trying to pull the fence down, as some of the tugs he gave, caused the board to flex quite a bit. But he never pulled beyond a certain point. It was just enough to constrict his muscles, and then he would back off.

It turns out, as Cyndie explained later, he was demonstrating a bad habit called “cribbing.” I wanted to be impressed, but then I learned it was just bad behavior, linked to simple boredom, or an anxiety. Not a horse’s proudest moment. I was fascinated to discover that one reason it becomes a habit is that the act brings a sense of pleasure from the release of endorphins in the horses brain.

It occurred to me that maybe he was just mirroring the behavior of the wedding guests he was observing in the tent behind me.