Relative Something

Legacy is definitely the “spokeshorse” for the group, and in most situations, he demonstrates a lot of intelligence. I was cleaning the paddock yesterday while the horses were out grazing. See if you can follow this: The wheelbarrow and I were stationed inside the large paddock, along the fence bordering the big field where the horses were grazing. The gate that was open between the paddock and big field was located in the other, smaller paddock.

At one point during my effort, Legacy sauntered into the small paddock and headed over to the waterer for a drink. While I continued scooping up manure, he crossed through the opening between the two paddocks and walked over by me into the very limited space between the wheelbarrow and the fence.

I was just about to ask him if he wanted something from me when he proceeded to deposit a fresh pile for me to pick up. He was so close, he might as well have just dropped it directly into the wheelbarrow himself.

I got the feeling he was trying to impress me with how smart he is. Unfortunately, his next behavior totally undermined his little show of smarts.

Upon completing his contribution of fertilizer for me to pick up, he looked to rejoin the three horses in the big field, by walking up to the closed gate near where I was working. The herd approached him there and waited. They quickly became frustrated and started running, so Legacy ran with them, along the fence, past me and the wheelbarrow, sliding to a stop when he reached the end of the paddock. He turned, frustrated, and ran back, stepping in the pile he so conveniently placed for me just moments before.

He did this run a couple more times, even as I was attempting to coax him to the wide open route he had used to get into this situation. He is intelligent, but he appears to experience lapses of memory. The horses in the field joined in his increasing frustration and sprinted back and forth, stopping amazingly close to the open gate in the small paddock.

I continued to invite both him and them to join me in passing through the open gates to reunite, by walking in and out through the openings. When his frustrated gyrations finally brought him far enough along to see what I had been trying to show him, he bolted through just as the other three figured it out and were charging in. I thought I was going to witness a demolition derby collision. Somehow, they avoided that catastrophe, and the four of them turned and raced full-speed together through the open gate, out into the big field, throwing chunks of mud 20-feet into the air in a thunder of pounding hooves.

One thing about horses, just as quickly as he forgot which gates were open, they forgot about how frustrated they all were, and instantly relaxed and went back to grazing. It’s one of the more intelligent things they do.