When I Listen To Horses

I wasn’t scared of my grandfather’s horse. I was fascinated, and awed by its presence. In a flash, I was swept up in strong arms and thrown onto the back of the liver chestnut thoroughbred named Gay Lad. As that four year old, I remember looking down and seeing my beaming smile reflected in the faces of both my father and grandfather. So began my journey with horses. In the ensuing years, the journey became a period of strengthening bursts, like my time at university learning from a very accomplished young rider, to periods of drought when my links to horses felt like a gossamer thread of past memories and my career in education and agriculture took hold.   My horse journey was to take a positive turn when my children went to Pony Club. I watched as they were exposed to different instructors. It was frustrating for the children (and me) as the training and education seemed to lack consistency. The instruction was leading to confusion not only for my children but also the horses...

  Neo was a mistake. Born the result of an accidental paddock mating. The only male among four fillies born from the same situation. Perhaps Neo was bound to be different growing up surrounded by female company. He has always been inquisitive, yet not one to push himself forward. Quite often as a youngster he could be found grazing by himself. He is one of those horses who enjoys the company of both horses and people, but it would be easy to say that he has the confidence of one who belongs to himself. At three years old he has come into the yards from being with his gelding paddock mates. Time to start some basic education. The separation from his peers was a non-event. Neo settled down to the routine of feeding in the yard while I cleaned up his pen, refilled his hay net and refreshed his water. When I entered his space, he would always break off from his feed to come over, sniff my outstretched hand as a ‘Horseman’s handshake’, ask for a quick rub and then relax back to a ha...