by Cynthia Mcbride

Created on: April 17, 2007   Last Updated: June 25, 2009

Do horses have emotions? Many people would probably say no, but anyone who has had the good fortune to share their life with an equine friend would probably say "OF COURSE!"

For several years I managed a small Arabian horse breeding ranch. The owner was usually out of town, so I got to spend my days among 25 horses of all ages, with dogs and cats as my coworkers. Not that I got much work out of those coworkers....

I witnessed all kinds of horse behavior that I had just never noticed when I was merely riding or training. The most interesting behavior came from the broodmares and their offspring. To get to see the interactions between mother and baby was truly special. The older, experienced mares were excellent mothers. They possessed a no-nonsense approach to parenting. If a little horse child acted up, Mama had no qualms about discipining the errant one. She would pin her ears back and strike at the little one like a snake, giving a small nip in his ribs. The little foal would immediately stand still with a look of 'Oh rats! I'm in trouble' in his eyes. You just don't mess with Mama when she's not in a good mood.

Once, shortly after the birth of a little bay colt, he stood up and wanted to try out his new legs, after being all folded up in utero for eleven months. The little guy looked so tiny and dainty, as if he would break if he fell down, and yet, almost immediately, he wanted to run. The mare and foal were in a large birthing stall, so the little guy could not go anywhere. But Mama was a very cautious parent, and when the little foal started cantering in circles around her, she got all upset and began hollering, nipped that little boy on the shoulder and made him stand still. Poor kid, just couldn't have any fun!

The new mothers were not as experienced in their important new role, and it usually showed. One year, we had five mares, each with a foal at her side. In the evening, when it was time to bring them in for dinner, they would all line up at the gate to wait their turn. They knew their pecking order and I respected it. I walked each mare and baby to the barn, both with halters and lead ropes. I went back down the hill to collect Cinnamon and her little daughter, who were third in line. Well, little girl was at that snotty age where she wanted to defy authority and so she began running around in a game of tag. It was muddy, I still had two more mares with foals to bring in, and I certainly was not interested in playing tag with a little brat in the mud!

So

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