hello there,
I had the most peculiar of experiences the other day. I had taken my horse for a ride down the road, as I do at least twice a week, when all of the sudden he came to a sliding halt and threw his head in the air. My body flung forward with the change of momentum, as his metal shoes scraped across the concrete road. Immediately he started snorting and had spun around and bolted before I even had the chance to do something. Within two or three leaps he had managed to cover the distance of about 20 meters, right down someone's driveway. At this point he stopped bolting but continued bucking, throwing his hair in the air, spinning, all the while trying to bolt. Sensibly, I saw the best option as dismounting because I figured I either choose to get off then and there or leave it too late and fall off. From the safety of the ground I continued to hold on with all my strength, knowing full well the only place he wanted to go was home. At this point his body had gone rigid and he was shaking from head to tail. If anyone has ever seen a mammoth animal that stands on 4 spindly, awkwardly long legs shake, you know that it looks like they're going to fall over at any moment. He was so terrified I could actually see his heart beating. His snorts were deafening.
I looked around to determine what had caused this abrupt panic in my always calm horse (I kid you not, he's wild in his stall, wild in the ring and field at times, but never is he anything but calm and relaxed on the road). I saw nothing that could have been a threat. So, my knowledge of horses led me to consider the quality of their sense of smell. Yes. It had to be that. My worst nightmare had finally come true. Obviously he smelt a cougar in the bush and we were about to die. It was the only logical explanation I could think of. But as I stood there, on that person's driveway, trying to calm him down, he would not, could not, stop staring at the field across the road. And then I realized what had scared him.
There, standing side by side, curiously watching these dramatic events unfold were 2 of the most adorable miniature donkeys in the entire world.
Yes.
You read that right.
Miniature Donkeys.
My 16.3hh tall, 1,600(ish) pound thoroughbred, who's capable of killing any living creature with one swift kick to the head, had had a complete and utter panic attack over seeing miniature donkeys. I can't actually stress to you how cute these donkeys are. They may be one of the cutest things I have ever seen in my entire life (somewhere my mother is rolling her eyes at me saying "you always say that"). But I'm serious. If you've never seen a miniature donkey make it your mission.
So here I was, on some random persons driveway with my horse (who, keep in mind, is still having a severe emotional breakdown) just trying to stop him from running off. At this point I've drawn the attention of the innocent homeowners who's driveway I was frequenting, as I calmly tried to coax my horse back down their driveway.
Being the responsible and knowledgeable horse whisperer that I am (joke), I knew it was my duty to prove to my horse that there was nothing to be afraid of. Let's be real, miniature donkeys are basically just extremely small horses with extremely large ears and strange tails. It took about five minutes but I eventually got him to walk across the road and we got within 20 feet of them when my horse snorted in utter terror which essentially scared the poor little innocent donkeys causing them to dart off at which point it was game over. The two little donkeys went one way and my horse went up. Just to paint a clearer picture. When my horse is standing on all four legs the top of his back is the same height as the top of my head. So when my horse is rearing up on his back legs he's suddenly a solid 15 feet tall. Needless to say. I had lost this battle for now. In hopes of at least arriving home at the same time as my horse while still maintaining a shred of control I admitted defeat and headed home.
As frustrated as I was by this ridiculous soap opera that had just unfolded, I was left more perplexed than anything else.
How? What? Why?
Why on earth was this strong, powerful, and sometimes intelligent creature fearful of something so innocent?
How? What? Why?
Why on earth was this strong, powerful, and sometimes intelligent creature fearful of something so innocent?
Which got me thinking... Isn't that how we react to other's fears? And who gets to determine what's worthy of fear and what's not?
I think we do this all the time. We base what is fearful, solely off our frame of reference. I know that I am incredibly guilty of this. It wasn't until fear was rearing over me trying to rip my arm out of its socket that I realized how insensitive I was. I have definitely made fun of people's fears or brushed them off like they're insignificant. It's easy to respond to people's fears by saying that they're just being dramatic or stupid. And perhaps we will always think their fears are ridiculous. I can't see a day where I suddenly think to myself that it's reasonable for a horse to be afraid of a miniature donkey. But that doesn't change the fact that a horse is in fact scared of a miniature donkey.
I may not be able to see things the way another person sees them and I can't control whether it's reasonable or not. But what I can control, is my attitude towards them.
My horse's reaction was perhaps one of the most unexplainable fearful encounters and reactions I have ever personally witnessed and yet because of the situation I was in I had to respond with nothing but calming compassion. I think this most likely had more to do with the fact that my horse is ENORMOUS and WAY stronger than me, that it does with me being a nice person. However, let's pretend I am nice and that's why I reacted the way I did. You see, I couldn't convince my horse that the donkeys weren't going to hurt him and I couldn't change the situation or remove the fear. But, what I could do was acknowledge his fear and confront it with him. Imagine for a moment what it would have looked like if I had chastised him and ridiculed him for being afraid? I can honestly tell you, from witnessing other horse people react to their horse's fear that way, that my horse would have definitely arrived home well before me, that is if, either of us managed to arrive home period (safe and healthy).
It doesn't do us any good to tell someone how to feel. I think we all have fears we can't explain. Fears that limit us, fears that, at times, can be crippling. But if you think about it, don't we all have our own miniature donkeys (metaphorically speaking)? I know I do. I have unreasonable fears to creatures substantially smaller and weaker than myself, and yet I'm terrified. It's human nature, but next time you're in a situation where someone is confronted with their fear, take a moment and remember that just because it's not your fear that doesn't mean it's not a fear. Instead of responding with judgment and impatience, respond with compassion, don't let them run, but confront it with them. Hopefully you'll be more successful than me in helping them confront it, but at the very least you will have shown that you cared. Which, in that moment, is probably all they needed.
-m.o
-m.o