A Farm Full of Lonely Horses

Today I visited the farm of an elderly couple who was having trouble caring for their horses, and had been for quite some time. It was full of beautiful arabian mares and stallions who were clearly well-bred, smart, and athletic, with so much potential. However, the future for these horses is dim. So is the barn that all 11 stallions reside in most of their lives. Some of the mares were friendly. Most were stand-offish at best. Though the condition of the farm was poor, the horses appeared well nourished, but it was the seeming lack of love or purpose that these horses had that bothered me most.

One gray stallion had what would seem to be the best view. He had an end stall that got to look out the barn door towards the house. But he seemed so sad. Maybe he watched everyday as his little old owners puttered about less and less. Perhaps his view was the most stressful, watching people come and go, and no one paying any attention to him.

If there is one pure and wholesome lesson that horses teach, it is responsibility. During my 17 years as a horse owner, the lessons in responsibility keep coming. Getting a job at 13 and working through the summer months to pay for my horse was the first. Then came the hard labor, cleaning stalls, barn work, putting up hay. There have been the lessons of emotional commitment, hanging in through the tough times, waiting in the night and the cold for the vet, and the heartbreaking responsibility of making the decision to put an end to a friends suffering.

There is the responsibility of continued learning, always working to be a better horseman, better rider, better person for your horse. And the hard work continues. It never ends, really. All for a horse. Or two or three.... or forty. As much as those beautiful arabians tried to dazzle me, and as much as many horses that I meet try to plant the dangerous seed in my brain that there is always room for one more, I take a loving peek at the horses in my pasture and know that I have all that I need.

You see, my theory is that my utmost responsibility is to the horses that are mine. If I spread my attentions too thin on too many horses, I am not being responsible to my horses. I want to be able to take care of them and be with them until I am old and gray, so I had better not make it too hard on myself. And if I think about it, whenever I return from seeing a lot of horses that want to come home with me, I then see those qualities out there in my pasture. I’ve got a fancy mare, I’ve got a blonde horse, I’ve got one that thinks he’s a stallion. I’ve got all the learning I need out there.

But it doesn’t help me if I don’t pay attention to it. Another theory of mine is that just giving a horse food and water is not taking care of it. They need our love, attention, commitment, and guidance. The main reason that I took on Riley to play with and ride was not because I felt especially drawn to her ( though I do like her a lot), or that I had any designs on her for any particular discipline, but rather because I knew that if she did not learn her manners and lessons, that she may one day take a fairly nice price at the meat market. Responsibility is that serious.

It is that way for our emotional lives as well. As it is for our relationships and endeavors. Responsibility can mean priorities, boundaries, and just plain hard work.

Just giving a horse it’s daily nutrition is no more responsible than admitting to a crime is taking responsibility for your behavior. Or knowing your faults, but not attending to them. Having horses has taught me so much more responsibility than simply shoveling poop and lugging water buckets. We need to take stock of our own pasture, and take responsibility. This means putting a good effort into the things that we need to, paying attention to our faults and holes, and attending to them. We need to look to the future, examine the options, and do our best to take care of what is ours.

Do you have a pasture full of friends that count on you, or a farm full of lonely horses?