Monday 21 February 2011

The politics of haying


I hang haynets even though the natural world tells me they are so bad for horses’ lungs that I might as well give them Marlboroughs to smoke all night. Eating from the ground is the way horses should eat, not with their faces level with their chests. Haynets mean your horse is inhaling dust and particles of fiber. This is bad lung food.

In fact, hay is bad for them, I've been told. Unless I buy the dust-extracted organic,pesticide-free loaves that come sealed in plastic at restaurant prices -- but you have to draw a line.

I use haynets which are designed with small mesh and make the hay last a lot longer because apparently horses only sleep a few hours a day and require constant small amounts of food for their guts to function. Otherwise, you run the risk of colic.

Of course, you can overfeed the horse and then they get the sometimes fatal condition of laminitis.

Saltwater fish would be easier than these creatures, who can’t do simple stay-alive things like vomit.

So, there I am under the night sky tying hay nets low enough so that the arc of the horses’ necks tip downward to avoid the dust/particles, but not so low that a hoof will get caught, though this could happen if Millie kicks Milo, which is not unlikely. In case of this possibility, I tie the net to a piece of baling twine so that it will break off and save the horse’s leg. There are also special knots I use.

If I can do this, surely I can perform minor surgeries?

It isn’t just that the haynets require physical considerations. There is also the political implication of how I feed these horses to consider. I’ll use Milo as an example.

Milo is a dominant, competitive little pony who wants more than anything to move from his current position as number 3 in the herd to at least number 2. For those of you who have studied drama and know that a good playwrite always considers what every character "wants" in a scene, let me put it this way: Milo wants power. He's a power-hungry little shetland cross who will do whatever it takes to move into a position of authority so that he can punish those below him.

When I come down to the barn and join the herd, he is alerted to the possibility that a power shift might take place at any moment. He knows he must at least maintain his position as third to my fourth, and he works hard in that direction.

So, while I think I am being a nice owner and giving my horse some hay, Milo sees it much differently. He is convinced that the reason I have brought him hay is because of the power of his “draw”. He draws me with his cute ears and friendly face and I bring the hay.

He then angles his shoulder to push me out and, once I’ve tied the haynet and turned around, he is certain he has “won” the food from me. This may seem a small matter, but it is small only to you and me and the rest of the human race. To Milo, it is everything. For a moment there, he is sure he is moving up in ranks and will soon be made General Of The Herd.

The best method I’ve come across so far in dealing with his behaviour of pushing me out is to swing a “savvy string” (a thin bit of rope) around my head propeller-style so that if he “comes into my space” as they say in the horse world, he “walks into the pressure” (gets thwacked in face by string). Okay, fine, But YOU try tying a haynet by the light of a dull bulb while making like a helicopter in the face of Milo at ten o’clock at night in the rain.

It takes “savvy”, which is one of the things the Parelli program teaches me, or tries to teach me. Failing to maintain my position as leader to Milo will have implications the next day when riding. If he’s pushed me away from the haynet (in his eyes) all manner of hell and damnation may follow.

Which is why “just going out to feed the horses" is never a simple thing. I'd like to point out, too, that the NEW red haynet featured in this photo has been cunningly bitten through by Milo, who has no truck with slow-drip feeding and wishes to gorge himself.

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