A few days ago, I heaved my ass out of the house earlier than usual. When I walked into the locker room at the Y, I encountered a horde of grey-haired, old ladies. Seriously, it was like the rec center at a retirement community. Yes, I have grey hair. Yes, I have been qualified to join AARP for 4 years. But that’s not ME. I don’t belong with these people.
Do I?
Is this what the kids at the barn see when they look at me?
Then, the shortest, oldest, most wizened of the women turned around … and … holy crap, I want arm muscles that look like hers.
Judge not.
(Why does judgment have a negative connotation? “You are wonderful.” is as much of a judgment as “You are horrible”. Yet when we say, “Don’t be judgmental.”, we mean the latter. But I digress.)
Blog contributor [Threads Make Feathers] and photo teacher Meg McKinney [Meet Meg], is back. Welcome.
~~~
I recently gained some insight to how horses see, and comprehend – or don’t.
Background: “Slim,” my younger sister’s American Saddlebred mare is boarding at Stepping Stone Farm. When Slim arrived in Alabama three years ago from California [California Girl Becomes a Southern Belle], she was exposed to all sorts of ‘new’ – southern accents, humidity, along with peacocks, guinea hens, and donkeys.
During one of my early lessons on Slim, the guineas were patrolling the property in full force – clucking and scampering, probably 30 yards from Slim, Courtney Huguely, and myself, in the Round Pen, which is covered, and has a high, heavy post-and-rail fence, which makes a great enclosure for lessons and training.
Just seeing those little clucking birds from that distance, was enough for Slim to get skittish.
She settled down, and our lesson continued.
On a different day, Slim and I are ready to show. Photo by a Friend of SSF.
Then, when we reversed our direction, Courtney said that Slim would have to get used to the guineas all over again. This was because horses’ see and comprehend one side at a time, or in one direction.
What? This was news to me. Horses have two eyes, on both sides of their heads, right? Don’t they see and comprehend at the same time from both us – just like us?
No.
Slim had to get used to the guineas all over again, in the second direction.
Well, we made it through – those fierce, little clucking birds never hurt Slim from their 30 yard distance, to Slim’s great relief, I’m sure.
Recently, I was reminded of how horses’ eye sight isn’t what we think it is, or, just like ours’.
When I put Slim out in a large pasture at the front of the property, she galloped around, and had a good time. Then, she decided to make tracks to the far corner, where another horse was calmly taking in the pretty sunshine. This meant going around the edge of a pond, and through a wooded area, which Slim did at a brisk trot.
Her pasturemate was an American Saddlebred, Lynnwood’s Yorktown Imagination, aka Tiny, who is anything but. He’s a chestnut gentle giant, that measures a good 17 hands tall. His trot and canter are so long-strided, riders put bell boots on him, so he doesn’t hurt himself at the canter.
Horses meet and greet by sniffing noses. Standing this close and straight on, they probably can’t see each other’s faces, because of their wide set eyes, but they can still watch for potential predators ahead and behind them.
Tiny and Slim got along in this particular corner, on the other side of the pasture and the pond.
Slim, left, and Tiny, take a leisurely stroll together, seeing each other from their side vision ability.
When it came time to put Slim back in her stall, we went through the gate where they were, not the gate at the other end of the pasture, where we’d originally entered the pasture. This was a new exit – to Slim.
Then, the next day, I put Slim out with Tiny again, and used the same corner gate we had exited through the day before. She stayed in that area, and did not venture back through the wooded area, around the pond, to the larger, greener pasture, where Tiny had casually ambled to.
I remembered when Slim had to get used to the guineas, in the second direction, and wondered if she was afraid of going in the reverse direction to the open pasture area.
Sure enough, when I put a lead line on her, and began walking her back around the pond, through the wooded area, she acted like it was all new territory, and little frightening.
I kept her moving, and voila! Soon we were in the big, open area of the pasture. Slim recognized where she was, and when I let her loose, she galloped around, found Tiny, and noshed on grass.
Slim gallops across the pasture, seeing in the distance ahead of her, but not the ground directly in front of her.
Soooo – what’s the deal with horses’ and their eye sight?
I asked my older sister (a board-certified veterinary pathologist) about horses’ and eyesight. She e-mailed this Wikipedia link, Equine vision, that has detailed information about how and why horses see the world very differently than humans, can judge distance for jumping, with limited color perception.
Slim, left, and Tiny, quietly graze at Stepping Stone Farm Riding Academy, with the ability to see the horse and rider in the ring, but not a few feet in front of them.
After reading it, I understood why Slim doesn’t always want to walk into the main barn hallway, from the outside — because it’s dark. I thought she was being flighty or cranky. It takes a little longer for horses’ eyes to adjust to indoor light than ours. This is the same reason why a horse will balk at loading on a trailer – it’s dark in there.
Their instincts tell them, “Danger.”
The darkened hallway of a stables may seem scary to a horse, because their eyes are slower to adjust to low lighting than a human’s eyes. What they first see is a dark place, which may have predators lurking.
I mentioned the pasture episode to Courtney, who reminded me that horses are prey animals, and that’s why their eyes are on the sides of their heads, with their incredible peripheral vision to see beside and behind them, but not straight ahead for a few feet. Predators’ eyes, she added, are located front and center.
Horses’ eyes are on the side of their heads, providing great peripheral vision to spot predators, but Slim has to use her nose to seek grass.
In the future, I’ll be more understanding when Slim, or any horse I’m handling, balks at something that looks harmless, and familiar, to me. They see a much different world around them.
~~~ Process Notes
The intention was artistically avant-garde. Instead, I have created Poodle Letters. Sigh. I am living Ira Glass’ advice for beginners, i.e. my taste exceeds my grasp. [Definitions] Zen Pencils. Onwards!
The same thing happened with the previous youth essay [Lightning in a Bottle ]. While the stats package has changed in the intervening two years, I judge the reach to be about the same. More FB shares on one; more direct hits on the other. (Since I use WordPress.com instead of .org, I don’t get Google Analytics.)
Regardless of the specific numbers, the award essays are wildly more popular than my average post. I try to enjoy the spike but not take personally the rise & subsequent fall.
As I said before, all of the credit goes to the author. All I do is recognize a good thing when I hear it.
Today was supposed to be a photo of our new trailer hitch. Not so much. I won’t comment yet, except to say a) Greg is on the case, & b) never piss off the quiet ones. They will eat you alive.
Meanwhile, your thought for the day.
~~~
I don’t own an umbrella.
I hadn’t even considered this until we piled out of the car for our photo shoot at Wheeler National Wildlife Refuge [Foto Friday]. One of the other photographers asked if I had brought an umbrella. No, I thinks to myself, not only did I not bring one, I couldn’t put my hands on one if I had to.
If it wasn’t for horses, I’d be a couch potato. Therefore, if’ I’m going outdoors, strong chance that horses will be involved. Horses and umbrellas do not mix. Therefore, no umbrella – to such an extent that I don’t notice the lack.
Greg driving Bliss, Katherine navigating. Photo by Angie DePuydt Alabama Whips and Wheels Carriage Club Inaugural Driving Derby
Longshot Farm
Montevallo, AL
February 19, 2017
Preliminary Horse, Greg & Bliss – 1st of 1
Thank you to Kate Bushman, Whip Hand Farm
The first official AWWCC activity had seven entries, pretty good for driving. We had horses from Alabama, Mississippi, and Tennessee. Entries in the Training division where split among Single Horse, Single Pony, and Single VSE (Very Small Equine – really, that’s what it’s called), and Tandem. As a result of the entry/class ratio, everyone but the three VSEs won their class. In addition, Greg and Bliss took the Prelim Division as the only entry. Hey, I’ll take our victories where we can get them.
Coach Kate and her youngster, Jewel, won Training Horse. Bliss had the fastest time overall; Jewel was second. Go, Whip Hand Farm!
Each driver gets three tries at the course. The first is a practice round. The next two are timed. The best time is taken as the score. Greg’s rounds were awesome, of course. Not that I am biased in the least. He trotted Bliss quietly around the first time getting a feel for the course. Then, he laid on the speed. As the only Preliminary entry, we were the only ones allowed to canter. We did. After the second trip we came out for a break.
The third trip was going great, right up until Greg drove backwards through a set of cones. Within an obstacle, taking the wrong gate is either 20 points or elimination, depending on which way you go through what gate [Report updates]. In cones, anything but forwards and in order is the big E. Oh well, we still had our second-round time.
View From The Back Seat
It was a learning curve for everyone. In saddle seat driving, the driver is alone in the cart – with advice generously supplied from the sidelines. In CDE dressage and cones, ditto – minus the outside assistance. (If there is a groom in dressage (upper-level & multiples), the groom is not allowed to speak.) In CDE marathon, suddenly you have the peanut gallery hanging off the back of the cart.
When Greg headed in the wrong direction. I thought, ‘What the H*ll is he doing?’ However, I didn’t SAY, “What the H*ll are you doing?” I need to sort out in my own mind whether I am part of the team or animated ballast.
When people within the saddle seat world ask about my future, my standard response is that if I could jump, I’d drop y’all like a bowl of warm potato salad. I’m only half-joking. In response, Coach Courtney smiles benignly and points out that I could do both.
Technically true. Suit horses are in training 6 days a week and ridden by their owners one day a week. Auxiliary lessons are taken on school horses. The cost would be significantly higher, but the time commitment would be the same as now.
In the real world, you run out of weekends. The first ASB show of the season takes place the second weekend in March. Greg & I have only one other activity that month. Guess which weekend it occurs. Overall, of the six shows scheduled for the first half of the year, I have conflicts with four of them. I will undoubtedly have an abundance of show opportunities this year. But I can’t have it all.
Most of the conflicts are with Greg’s driving. He has been supportive of the horses since day one. He has not breathed a word of complaint about my extensive saddle seat showing. It’s his turn for a while. Unless Rodney decides to jump. Then, potato salad.
The next show on my schedule is at the end of May. No showing for 3 months. How will I survive?
Virtual Brush Box 