Horse Crazy by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Read Free Book Online

pasture privileges he would otherwise be denied. He
may not be Beta, exactly, but none of the other horses will bother
him. Interestingly, after a few years in this favored position,
Dancer began to become more aggressive toward some of the other
horses--as if realizing his invulnerability and capitalizing on it.
One of the horses he decided to wage a one-horse war against
happened to be Beta himself. In fact, there is some debate as to
whether Dancer didn't eventually knock Beta from his hierarchical
slot.
    Beta Horse. Called Lightning by his human
acquaintances, the (perhaps) erstwhile Beta horse is an eight-year
old registered Appaloosa, about 15'2 hands and a fine specimen of
some of the most incredibly ugly horseflesh on the hoof. Lightning
features pale, distended lips and pink, wrinkled eyelids that
protect watery, red eyes.
    This horse does, however, come the closest to
having a human-like personality. Unlike the other horses, his
relationship with people comes nearer to the fantasy than the
reality. He's capable of devising and participating in games with
his owner, from tag to hide and seek (although admittedly,
Lightning doesn't hide very quietly), to grabbing up a crop in his
teeth and conducting imaginary orchestras. He also tends to be a
more involved riding companion; nudging the rider gently,
inquisitively on the shoulder if she dismounts for any reason, as
if to say: "Hey, what's the story here?"
    Further down the line of the Equine Who's Who
and Who's A Pasture-Patty is Traveler, a fourteen-year old, half
quarter horse, half Arabian chestnut. 15 Hands with a grass belly
not unlike that of a portly old gent, Traveler has four white socks
and a white face with very intelligent eyes.
    Traveler is sweet, slow, lazy and passive. A
definite Omega in the hierarchy of pasture horses. He hangs out
with an old outcast hunter-jumper named appropriately enough: "Old
Guy."
    These two huddle closely together--missing
each other whenever they're parted and usually keep well away from
the rest of the herd. When I first knew Traveler, he was pretty
much left to himself by his owner, a fourteen year old girl who was
often on restriction or otherwise prohibited from coming out to
ride and care for the animal. It seemed a shame that Traveler would
be penalized too whenever the girl's grades would dip, but such is
often the logic of a non-horse parent.
    As a result, pretty Traveler was often
covered with bots (tiny fly eggs that gather on the lower
extremities of a horse in late summer), his hair matted, missing
shoes, hobbling around on too-long feet and otherwise a mess. The
general barn consensus is that he'd even foundered at least
once.
    Foundering, or laminitis, is a curious
disease and vets don't know a whole lot about it. They do know that
it can come about by running a horse on too-hard surfaces, by over
feeding or by allowing him to drink large quantities of cold water
after a hard workout. The laminae tissue on the foot, and it's
usually the front ones, becomes inflamed and the horse goes lame
and is very uncomfortable as a result. Traveler was getting a good
deal of love from his young owner, but not the care he needed to
stay sound.
    The horses as a herd (or gang, as they often
appear to the newcomer) have a fascinating corporate personality.
They'd almost always rather be together with their horse buddies
than anywhere else. Oh, they'll come along peacefully enough for
the most part when you traipse out, carrot and halter in hand, to
bring them in for a ride and dinner. But if they could dispense
with you and just go straight to the dinner so they could return to
their horsy chums, they would, gladly.
    This understanding of herd dynamics is even
utilized by some course builders for show jumping events. Often,
the course designers will take advantage of the horse's natural
interest in staying with the group by beginning the jumping course
with a couple of easy jumps and putting the more monstrous ones in
a position