Our noblest friend the horse

Front matter

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Contents

IPart IFli). — Cbe Proper treatment of Iborses

CHAPTER

I. Fad and Fashion. The Docking and Mutilating OF Horses

CHAPTER I. Mental Limitations of Horses

IT is due to the romancing of the inexperienced and impractical that we too often would attribute to the horse mental qualities which he does not possess, and mistakenly endow him with an intelligence which, could he even approximate, would not improbably render him useless for' the purposes at which we are accustomed to employ him.

II

This extreme sagacity has been denied him by nature, and, through its absence, we are enabled to hoodwink him as to our intentions, our means of restraint (so totally inadequate did he but realise it), etc., and to compel him to render to us a service which (as cannot too often be repeated) he does not " deligJit to render," as sentimentalists and theorists would have the world believe. Any labour that is performed for mankind by the horse is done solely and simply because he has been educated through constant and exhaustive rehearsal to yield obedience to our demands, and because his attempts at resistance have been, from the very beginning, regularly and completely brought to nought. Man has so invariably proved the master in every argument, the victor in every dispute, that his sovereign rule is conceded — and once this idea is firmly implanted in the animal's mind, all revolt is ended ; he yields to his handler any performance within his powers — not glorying in duty done, but refraining from fruitless rebellion.

This statement is so absolutelv true that it is only necessary to let an animal uncc get the idea that he need not perform some task, to find that, either regularly or occasionally, he will ever after attempt to shirk the matter. This evasion may consist of any resistance, balking being the most common form, or refusing to turn one way or the other, or turning round to go home, etc. Its form does not matter; it is the rebellious act that is significant.

The accepting of individual qualities and performances as characteristic of the equine race in the abstract has been the cause, to those who keep and use horses, of many fatal mistakes and much trouble, and in these pages the general qualities of the average horse are the only ones considered.

^The reader must be asked to accept — or to investigate, at least — sev^eral statements as to the horse's limitations which will not improbably at first meet condemnation. These are, first, that the horse is a fool ; second, that he is a coward ; and third, that, like most cowards, he is a bully. It is through no faults of his own making that the animal is thus to be classified, but because nature has thus beneficently arranged matters in order to facilitate his subjugation and subsequent utility for human usages. His f oohshness renders him easy to deceive ; his timidity makes him quickly submissive, unwilling to resist once he believes it useless ; and his propensity to be a bully is evidenced from the fact that as a youngster (and frequently in later life), he is continually trying to find out just how far he will be allowed to rebel, and will, if unchecked, overstep the bounds continually, each time more defiantly, until possible disaster follows.

As equine folly and timidity afford the prime factors whereby the creatures may be easily subjugated and employed, and provide thereby a safeguard for us, so these characteristics contain their dangerous elements. The " fool " part of the creature's nature will, at times, be so augmented by the cowardly, that headlong panic is the result, and frightful accidents ensue. It is true that these panics are as frequently the outcome of past as oi present happenings, but results are none the less unpleasant. An animal may have been injured by this or frightened by that, and the reappearance of the object or the recurrence of the incident is doubly horrifying because of the painful associations. The panic which follows is almost insanity; the results are frequently of the most serious nature.

The horse's mind can receive and digest but one impression at a time; and this again is a blessing to us in many cases, a calamity in others. It helps us because, for example, the one idea that resistance is useless becomes paramount to anything else, and we may carry his education to extended lengths, if we are willing thoroughly to accept and to act upon this unalterable fact. What makes a horse break loose from the kindly hands which have led him from his blazing stable, dash back to it, and into his own stall through flames and smoke, and there stand and die, resisting all efforts to remove him? It is because he is foolish; timid, therefore panic-stricken; and being thus, he clings to the one idea that the familiar stall, which has always before sheltered him from harm, must be his only sanctuary now. Safety is there or nowhere — and to it he returns, through flames, over tottering floors, and under trembhng walls ; and there he expires — firmly convinced that there is no hope, no shelter but this.

It is for the very same reason that, if a horse is blindfolded, he may be led from a burning building. The loss of vision changes his one idea — and he becomes occupied with another. The writer got a horse from a flaming stable, after repeated and vain efforts to move him had been made, by simply tying up a leg, and forcing him to hop along on three. He came at once, and so he would have done had any one of dozens of other means been used to change the current of his thought.

It is thus with the balky animal, the one who shies — if we will but distract his attention from the one idea upon wdiich his mind is concentrated, forthwith we may do with him as we will. Some of these measures may be painful or uncomfortable, but need never be brutal or abusive. The original idea compels resistance, but another cunningly substituted becomes in turn overpowering, and the animal is as thoroughly subjective to it as to the one whose place it takes.

The horse's memory is most retentive ; his homing instinct is as true as a carrier-pigeon's. He will remember a voice — yet never recognise the speaker either by sight, smell, or touch, until the familiar tones are heard. Words are to him of no import; he obeys only those associated with certain gestures or subsequent effects — as the cut of a whip, etc. He rarely forgets a locality, or its devious ways of approach, even although years have passed since he last visited it. It is this memory which enables us to leach him tricks, to use him for our various purposes etc., and this same power of recollection proves an undesirable faculty in that it does not allow him to forget past accidents, successful resistance, etc. In fact, the horse's memory it is which should render us doubly careful, in all our relations with him, always to retain the upper hand; for he never forgets the one time that Jie got the best of you, and the very rarity of the occurrence serves but to make the impression the more vivid.

A horse is not generous. True, he will go until he drops in many instances, but that does not prove generosity, but rather that he has been punished if he paused, and the one idea associated with progress in harness and under saddle is to go on and on, until the biped in charge signals that enough has been done. One hardly calls the cow generous because she " gives do^wTi " her milk — it affords her relief to do so — and in the same way, the horse hurries on to the shelter, the care, and the food, which past experience has proved always await him at the journey's end ; and in this anticipation he struggles along, goaded further, when exhaustion intervenes, by fear of punishment if he stops. The unbroken colt or the untamed horse does not possess this " generosity " for the reasons that no past lessons of reward or punishment stimulate and urge him on. If in company with other horses, he will proceed as long as strength allows — his gregarious nature and his previous association with his kind ensure that ; but brief indeed will be his progress once all such incentives are missing, and vain will be any efforts to

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O force him to continue after he is thoroughly fatigued. "Generosity" has nothing to do with the matter,. and is but another of the fallacies which so much endanger our relations with the horse who has us and our loved ones so frequently, and so completely, at his mercy.

The reader may conclude that an effort is making to depict the horse as a sort of fiend incarnate, with no desirable or reasonable attribute whatever, but this is far from the case. It is simply intended that the public shall realise that those old " ghost stories " of this and that wonderful display of intelligence and foresig-ht upon the part of the equine race are the merest fables, or explainable logically upon totally different grounds from those usually set forth. These yarns have been told and retold so many times and with so much elaboration, that they have become accepted as true and genuine incidents of experience with the animals. It is not fair to the horse to expect these developments ; it is dangerous in the last degree to the person who absorbs them as gospel truths. An active experience covering over thirty years with every variety of the horse and for every purpose, not in scattering instances, but in quantities often amounting to hundreds, has afforded opportunity to the writer for unHmited investigation and experiment — and the results are as herein set forth, the reasons are as here narrated.

Competently to handle any animal we must understand its mental and physical limitations. The rattlesnake is harmless if grasped in a certain fashion and handled in a certain way ; it will wave about to certain music, but it will neither give milk like a cow, nor pull a load like a horse. The seal learns to beat drums, etc., but can never climb a tree, nor stand on its head like a monkey. His peailiar limitations environ the horse likewise, and he must be asked to do only what he can accomplish, in the way he can perform it. His predominating characteristics are foolishness, timidity, bullying propensity, a one-ideaed mind, a strong memory, ignorance of words, understanding of sounds, more easily if associated with gestures, keen hearing, sharp sight, etc. ; and as these are the possessions of all horses, — in however varying degree, — our relations with them must, to be satisfactory, proceed along the lines indicated ; accepting these peculiarities as unalterable, and therefore to be handled to the best advantage in the securing of satisfactory results.

CHAPTER 11.

Faithfulness, Memory, Love of Home

TO concede that the horse possesses faithfulness — in the ordinary acceptation of the word — as a conspicuous trait is to attribute to him another quahty of which he is not capable. Faithfulness is defined as " loyalty," " sincerity," and these virtues the animal does not exhibit, although the ungenerous motives of desire for food and shelter will produce results seemingly typical of such nobility of purpose and action. Of the quality of devotion evidenced by the dog, for instance, the horse shows not one particle; nor can he attain the eminence of the canine in this respect, because his characteristics are dissimilar, even did his opportunities allow; because any such latent inclination has not been developed, as with the canine, through generations of association with man ; and because he is too dominated by fear and foolishness to make his loyalty or faithfulness always possible under varying circumstances. Do not be deceived by what you may hear or read about this characteristic, and disabuse your mind of the idea that the horse possesses it; that he is true to his master; that he loves to work for him; and that he performs his tasks through " faithfulness," etc. It is a lovely theory and a beautiful romance, " rolling trippingly " from the lips of humanitarians who probably believe it, but there lurk behind the lamentable facts that it is neither true nor possible.

Faithfulness implies loyalty to individual and to occupation. The horse is true to neither. Personally you — all human beings — are distasteful to him — your very scent is unpleasant. In so far as he finds you a medium to provide care and shelter, he tolerates you, but you never reach a higher point in his affections than that of acceptance as a necessary evil ; a member of the race of bipeds which has always (or generally) compelled obedience and frustrated all efforts at rebellion. As his master he accepts you, and " faithfully " does his work, because he has always been made to do it, and is imbued with the one idea that he cannot help himself.

Were he genuinely " faithful," he would betray the characteristic in various ways. He would not leave you when loose; he would love to follow you about; he would so enjoy your companionship and so relish working for you as to prove impossible of restraint from either sitting in your lap, or harnessing himself to the carriage and insisting upon taking you to drive, whether you wanted to go or not ! In short, he would prove an unmitigated nuisance. The Po'wer which provided him for man's purposes arranged his failings (and his merits) exactly to meet the requirements demanded, and as he stands he is as nearly " faithful '' as we should care to have him.

True, he comes at your call from the field (that is, sometimes he does, if he has nothing better to do), but do not flatter yourself that faithfulness or affection impel ! Not at all — either you or some one else has been in the habit, when he obeyed, of rewarding him with food and dainties. If you think otherwise, and have the courage of your convictions, turn him loose on the streets, or call him from the pasture, and if you (or any one) have never rewarded him for obeying (or appetite does not just then press), he will pay not the least attention to you.

He waits " faithfully " for you at the door, because you, or some other, have impressed it on his one-ideaed mind that he must not move until he is told. He stands by you when you tumble off, because he has been trained so to do, or because he is not alarmed sufficiently to seek refuge in flight ; but if you imagine that he will wait around for yO'U all day as your dog will, because he loves you, try it and see — you'll enjoy a pleasant walk home!

He " faithfully " pulls his load along the thoroughfares, not because he enjoys labouring in the interest of man, but because he dare not do otherwise. Do not despise him for, nor be disappointed in, his shortcomings ( ?) ; rather love and cherish him the more on their account.

The wildest cow-pony, hardly saddle-or-bridlewise, will wait for hours at any point where he may be left, providing only that the bridle-rein is thrown over his head. The enthusiast is much impressed at the sight of this " faithful " creature waiting for his master, but does not know that the first thing a broncho is taught, as vitally important, is to stand and to wait anywhere, with but the horizon as a boundary; and that this obligation is impressed upon him by turning him loose in the corral with a sharp curb-bit in his mouth, and with its reins trailing on the ground. By the time he has stepped upon them a few times, as he wanders about, and nearly broken his jaw in consequence, he learns that trailing reins are a signal to stand still, and that only lack of motion ensures freedom from acute agony. Pull the bridle off, and you can't get near enough to " rope " him, unless in a pen, or when riding a horse fast enough to run him down. The mustang hates man, who in his experiences has proved himself a merciless brute; yet, if bridled thus, the creature will wait " faithfully " his master's coming for hours or for days.

The " bump of locality," the homing instinct; and the love of home are wonderfully developed, and these possessions are, of course, a part of his predominating trait, - — memory, — as is his acceptance and retention of one idea at a time. The unfortunate part of it all is that these faculties render horses acute sufferers from homesickness, which perhaps may be construed roughly as morbid recollection. No animal suffers more severely than he ; none is more faithful to the accustomed stall, the familiar yard; none is so little considered and consoled in this respect. The dog also suffers intensely, but he can be comforted by the incessant human companionship and affection, which do not appeal so intimately to the horse. That poor creature must pine in silence, heartbroken and inconsolable, until time, " the universal healer," shall have assuaged the pain and dimmed the recollection. Let years elapse, however, and if returned to former scenes, he briskly and joyfully takes all the familiar turnings, enters the well-known drive, and unerringly goes to the wonted stall, and who shall say what hymn of thanksgiving goes up from his anxious heart for this blessing bestowed ? Many horses which when newly arrived from the country refuse to feed well, and seem generally " out-of-sorts," are suffering from nothing in the world but nostalgia, and only time can alleviate their pangs; although a return to health and spirits is, when it occurs, credited to the various drugs and nostrums einployed.

It is this active memory that proves our safeguard in handling the animal, and without it his use by man would be quite impossible. In time of emergency, if he answer to the sharp "Whoa!" and stands still, no matter what befall, it is because his one-ideaed mind and memory associate the order with the fact that the sound (not word — he does not understand that) has always enforced instant cessation from motion, and an obligation to stand still until directed to do something else. Once learned — and every horse can learn and should be taught to obey at once — he never forgets this lesson, and

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o even should you give the command when he is going down-hill, over smooth ice, he will stop, and refrain from voluntary motion, even though he slides to the bottom. The memory that he has always proved able to move a big load will make him fairly " pull his heart out " at anything he is harnessed to ; but woe to you if his strength is inadequate to move it, for he will never forget that either ! Of the two results he will naturally adopt as final that which causes him least exertion, — he is not fool enough to overlook this advantage, — and may very probably persist in his refusal to try again until you convince him that he cannot help himself.

Any faux pas committed by the instructor in the training of colts, or in their subsequent education, is never forgotten, and, whether it becomes confirmed or not will depend upon your ability in making a stronger impression upon the equine mind in your ensuing correction of your mistake and of his misconduct. If we could but trace up the causes for all the accidents and stampedes which occur, we should almost invariably find that previous mishaps and mistakes, perhaps in babyhood, had caused apprehensions which, while dimmed, had never been forgotten.

The horse is a bully, and is always on the watch to take advantage and to evade obligations. He will " size you up " in a moment. The animal that walks sedately off with A will put B flat on his back; the roadster that " plays the fool " and shies at everything with C, will face fire, flood, and anything, when D's steady nerve telegraphs through the reins that all this " bluffing " must stop, and that discipline will be enforced. All intercourse should, upon the part of the man, be calm and good-natured, but firm, prompt, and decided, and if you are not up to the mark physically or mentally your horse knows it at once, whether you realise it or not.

Memory it is that ensures us protection from the animal's propensity to bully us. He never forgets that he did not succeed the first time he tried it, but was signally defeated — and perhaps well punished for his insubordination. In the same way he never forgets that he failed in his efforts to kick, to rear, to run away, to lie clown, etc. ; and this memory prevents his trying again, and ensures us safety in his use. An all-wise Providence has thus provided us a means to control and to educate him which is thoroughly efficient, and which, despite his very limited mental abilities, renders him able safely to perform for us the various tasks at which we use him, in the manner that we direct. In this particular he ranks as a wonderfully intelligent creature, and in his case, as in that of man, memory is the faculty which makes possible extensive acquirements, and advances the interests not only of himself, but of his associates.

CHAPTER III. Affection for Animals, Not for Man

THE horse is a gregarious animal, and as such craves the companionship of his kind, or failing that, of any other living creature, man ranking lowest not in the list of his affections, but of his tolerations. As the slang phrase runs, he emphatically " has no use for " the biped, save as a drawer of water and a means to the end of food and shelter. As such, man has his uses in equine eyes, but not otherwise, nor for any other purposes. True, to the hunter camped for the night upon the plains may come his four-footed comrade in the " dim watches of the night," and may graze or stand near him ; but should he thus seem to seek companionship in the vast solitudes of the prairies it is regarded by the experienced not as a cause for self-congratulation and as a manifestation of affection, but as an evidence of apprehension, a token of uneasiness at the impending storm, the hovering coyotes or other dangers ; nor will he thus seek his master unless he is absolutely alone; if others of his kind are in company with him, the proprietor finds that his only means of security from straying or disappearing altogether is assured by the use of strong hobbles, and short-coupled at that. Alack for the theorist who would turn his steed loose, unfettered of limb, and expect always to find him again, even had theirs been the close companionship of years !

A horse will not seek his master in the field save for selfish ends; nor will he select him from among several others, if they all use the same sounds and gestures ; and he advances as readily at a call meaning "Go away!" as "Come here!" provided the sounds and intonation be similar. He knows no one by sight, although his sense of smell has seemed sometimes to aid him ; but even so. it was some familiar and perhaps unconscious gesture, action, or manner that aided his efforts at identification, allayed his feeling of distrust and timidity, and caused him to seem to recognise his friend. Sentiment to the contrary, he has no " longing for the famiUar hand, the well-known voice," nor will he " cuddle his head upon your breast in the expression of his wordless affection," as the fairy tales run. If he does so " cuddle," it is because some one has been accustomed to fondle him thus; and this is tolerated because of the sugar or carrot which has proved a not unusual accompaniment. While distressing to the writer thus to wipe away the cobwebs of tradition and of school-book narrative, cold facts are what they will be, and most actions of our four-footed friends are explainable if reasons for them are sought.

If affection is not felt for man, resentment is plainly evidenced, and certain race-horses have been known either to fly into a frightful rage, or to shake and sweat with dread when they heard the tones of a jockey who had brutally punished them in a race ; yet this same rider could stand directly before them, and no demonstration followed as long as he did not use his voice; but of that the merest whisper was enough. It would be most interesting to see whether such an animal could by any means recognise such a man if he had never before heard him speak; but the chances are against it, although, as stated above, the sense of smell might assist. One well-known race-mare was so upset every day by hearing the trainer's voice giving orders to the boy-rider when at exercise, that nothing could be done with her until a code of signals was arranged by means of a stick, etc. From that day (the trainer changing his appearance in no way), she was perfectly quiet and tractable, although the man was always about her both in and out of the stable. He might be in her box for a long time, handle her in any way, but if he spoke, she would fly at him instantly, and act like a wild thing for some time after. Certain race-horses also take such a violent antipathy to certain riders that they will not try to race when ridden by them, but sulk and refuse to run; nor are these always boys who have abused them.

There is something about a highly organised, intensely nervous horse that makes him quick to take these notions of disHke. Of course, all race-horses, as they advance in training, become irritable and irrational to a degree — and, man or beast, there is something about perfect physical condition that acts upon the mental, and renders them at these times unreasonable, morose, and " crotchety " to a degree, and it is then that personal inclination as to society or seclusion must be closely studied and intelligently catered to if the best results are to accrue. The writer has often thought that we do not sufficiently regard the sense of hearing — of " pitch " — in the animal ear. We all know that certain tones or notes in voice or instrument will make dogs uneasy, finally howling dismally, or escaping if possible; and it has been said that every violin or piano has some special notes of harmony or discord that will drive any dog to desperation. He believes that the horse is affected in the same way, but possibly to a lesser degree. Certain horses seem to rejoice in carrying the drums in a mounted band; others can never be made to submit quietly. Every one has seen an animal, standing in his box, evidence irritation and violent anger at the voice of some total stranger, yet treat his companions with every courtesy, — and here, perhaps, crops out as well the propensity to bully.

Horses are perfectly submissive in the hands of some men, although they have never seen them before. A certain " horse dentist " was sent for, to attend to the teeth of a very savage stallion, but, through a mistake, was not informed that the animal was vicious. IJe arrived, and finding no one in charge of the stable, and seeing that there was only one stallion stabled there, concluded he was the subject, and, entering his box, was busily working upon his teeth, when the man in charge returned. The groom could hardly believe his eyes, as he had himself for years been the only one who could handle the horse. The secret of it was that the doctor, not knowing the horse was vicious, had no fear, and as he was of the wise few who never " speak to horses," the stallion considered him his regular attendant, and submitted at once. Had he spoken he would have been recognised as a stranger, and probably killed off-hand.

Horses kept in what is practically solitary confinement, as is the case with many stallions, and with trotters and race-horses far too often, form strange and touching friendships with all sorts of animals, — cats, dogs, goats, sheep, fowls, etc., — and are sometimes quite inconsolable without them, provided their solitary existence is continued. It has always seemed, however, that too much stress was put upon the display of affection by , the equine, and hardly any of the credit given to his little companion, who always made the first advances, and who could leave the box at any time, but preferred to stop with his big " pal." How true this is may be proved by turning such a horse out to grass with others, or even alone, and by confining his partner where he can see and be with him if he zmll — nor perhaps, if he could always see him would the test be fair, for that might suffice. Not in one case in a thousand will the steed pay any further attention to his erstwhile cherished comrade.