Seventeen years ago I was given a book by William Sears, M.D., called
The Baby Book, in which Dr. Sears talked about his theory of parenting, referred to as attachment parenting.
Dr. Sears' theory of attachment parenting (often called AP), calls for
developing a secure bond with our children, the goal being a secure,
connected child who grows into an empathetic, connected adult.
Attachment Parenting International offers the following guiding
principles, which facilitate strong, nurturing connections between
children and their parents:
- preparing for pregnancy, birth, and parenting
- feeding with love and respect
- responding with sensitivity
- using nurturing touch
- ensuring safe sleep, physically and emotionally
- providing consistent and loving care
- practicing positive discipline
- striving for balance in personal and family life
With only a few tweaks of language, all of the above could easily be set
forth as guiding principles for living humanely and in connection with
horses (and donkeys, and all equines).
Last week it was Pat Parelli and Catwalk.
This week I have read an article about a miniature donkey strapped into a
harness against her will and parasailed up and down a beach in the name
of "publicity." The donkey was terrified, landed quite roughly, and
apparently was in such distress while in the air, left many children
crying in upset confusion. And yet, after a public outcry when the owner
was finally located and the donkey examined by a veterinarian, there
will apparently be no charges of abuse or cruelty because the donkey
sustained no physical injuries.
In the smaller circle of equine community, I have read a post on a forum
about the need to keep working our horses, despite the heat, because of
the need to maintain a training schedule. Heat indexes where I live
have ranged from 112-119 degrees for the past week. It's easy enough to
see that extreme heat affects horses more quickly and more seriously
than it does the average, healthy human. They have hair covering their
entire bodies. Their digestive tracts rely on regular intake of forage
and water to remain functional. When we ride them, they are not only
working, but carrying our weight.
I received an email informing me of things to do to haul horses safely
in heat, in advance of Pony Club National Championships coming up next
weekend in Virginia. Nationals are held in Kentucky and Virginia on
alternate years, always in late July/early August. Why schedule
something that involves hauling horses and ponies from all over the US
during the hottest time of year?
I read a Facebook entry referring to a pony as a "butthead" because he
didn't want to go into the ring for a show class, tried to leave, and
bucked. Has the pony been checked for physical pain? Bit fit, saddle
fit, muscle soreness, feet checked, chiropractic issues? The pony's
behavior is indicative of something being wrong, either physically or
emotionally. How else can he express it? My guess is that if he didn't
want to go into the ring to jump, and that was paid attention to, he
wouldn't have then needed to buck to get his point across. And yet no
one listened. He was a "butthead."
Is there no end to the narcissism, self-centeredness, and downright
ignorance of human beings? I can't think of any reason save an emergency
trip to the vet school that would call for loading any horse or donkey
into a trailer at this time of year, in this heat, with the expectation
that the horse/donkey stand in a strange stall, hot, stressed, and yet
ready and willing to perform strenuous work in a competitive setting.
I can't imagine having hauled any of my horses to any event this week
and being remotely capable of disparaging them because they resisted
being ridden.
And I could no more strap Rafer Johnson or Redford in a harness and drag
them through the air for the sake of making a little money than I could
one of my human children.
What in the world are we thinking when we expect animals to serve as
vehicles for our bank accounts, our egos, and our apparently desperate
need for external validation?
Alice Miller wrote a number of books about parents who expect these
things of their children. She describes in great psychological detail
what this does to children, and how the effects ripple into adulthood.
It's time someone wrote a similar treatise on people and their horses.
There is no ribbon on earth, no amount of money, and no genuine
self-gratification worth the cost of treating animals like objects, with
no feelings, no rights, and little effort on our parts toward creating,
nurturing, and maintaining a deeper relationship.
When we ignore the deeper, unspoken needs of the equines we ride and use
for our own purposes, there is a cost. Not dollars and cents, although
certainly we may end up with broken down horses and big vet bills at
some point down the road. The cost I refer to is a psychic, soul-deep
cost that I'm not sure we even know the consequences of incurring. It's a
cost to humanity and to growth as human beings.
I know this sounds serious. I believe it to be true.
I'm not opposed to competitive horse sport, but the reward of
competition should be based in the maturing of the rider's increasingly
connected relationship with the horse, and in the making of sound, safe
decisions based on the needs of the horse, who can't leave a voicemail
saying "oh, by the way, I really don't feel like carrying you over jumps
in 90+ degree heat - how about we do it another time?"
As much as our children rely on us to intuit and meet their needs when
they're too young to do it for themselves, our horses and our donkeys
(and our cats and dogs and birds and all the other wonderful animals we
surround ourselves with) need us to be their biggest, most thoughtful
advocates and partners.
And I can say with certainty borne of experience, when we say NO to
"smack him harder," when we say NO to "that noseband needs to be TIGHT,"
when we say IT'S TOO HOT TO HAUL, WE WON'T BE THERE when we get the
email asking about the upcoming horse show, and when we say "I'll do
what it takes to find out why you bucked in that last class" - what we
get in return is something far more valuable than a training schedule
checked off, a thumbs up from an unenlightened trainer, a few new
clients for our company, or a fistful of cheap show ribbons.
We get connection. We get devotion. We get to participate in the magical
relationship that is the amazing and most genuine gift horses and
donkeys offer humans.
And more than that, I think we elevate ourselves as humans. We raise the
bar for our own species. Instead of expecting more of them, how about
we expect more of ourselves?