A couple of weeks ago I was in the paddock trimming hooves. I was under Riley’s back leg when I felt him tighten up and lean against me. Six, his best mate, had walked away and as she left so did Riley’s thought. I growled, “Hey, let it go.” Instantly Riley’s back leg softened in my hand, he stopped leaning on me and I went back to finishing the job.
Afterward, I wondered to myself how did Riley learn that my action was a signal for him to relax his leg and bring his thought back to me? Maybe it was just coincidental or maybe it was an accident or maybe my intent was very clear to him.
I thought about it some more and I began to realise there were lots of ways I communicate with my horses that are not listed in the “Definitive Manual of Equine Communication” by JD Knowitall. Most of them have developed without any conscious effort on my part. They sort of just snuck into our relationship.
Many years ago, I was teaching in an arena and talking to a student. My mare, Chops was standing nearby patiently. Suddenly, Chops walked towards us with her hindquarters first. The student immediately felt threatened, but I reached my hand out and scratched the top of Chop’s tail. Chops stopped and craned her neck. According to the student, JD Knowitall’s Definitive Manual said that when a horse comes towards you with its hindquarters, at a minimum it is being disrespectful and at worse being threatening. But in the language Chops was speaking it was clear she was being neither of those things. She was just being itchy and she was telling me so.
When you spend enough time with an animal or person, you develop your own language.
I was visiting a friend who had a small child. The kid was speaking to her mum, “bufjad doowki cetlu.” I had no idea what it was saying. But her mum had no trouble and reached to pass the kid another slice of sweet apple. In what dictionary did those words come from????
When Michèle and I would run clinics with groups of people in the one lesson we sometimes would have people swap horses for groundwork lessons (and occasionally for riding). It was always such an eye-opening experience to see how the different horses reacted to strangers. Both the horses and the new handlers acted like it was their first day at a new job and didn’t know what to do. I believe strangers often bother our horses in large part because the presentation, the intent and the secret language is missing.
Despite first appearances, this secret communication is really not so secret, but it is special. It’s special because the language is unique to you and your pony or your partner or your parrot or your pussycat. Nobody else shares the same language. Your horse does not communicate in exactly the same way to anybody else but you. And if you have the right relationship, you do not share the exact same language with any other horse. There may be a lot of commonality with different horses, but it is never exactly the same.
When we work with a horse, in the beginning the language is often crude. The energy and movements tend to be amplified in an effort to be clear (eg we ask a horse to move with loud driving signals). This is a common language that almost all horses and all horse people understand and use as a starting point. But as the relationship develops the communication becomes more subtle and can even appear secretive. This language is unique to the relationship and it takes a lot of time to create. You won’t find this language explained in books about horse communication. You won’t hear it talked about at clinics or on YouTube videos. Nobody else shares that exact same language. It’s the quiet, subtle noise that lies underneath the coarse, conspicuous language you begin with and read about in books.
This secret language is born out of your relationship with your horse. Its growth is a sign of your evolving connection. It doesn’t always mean that things are perfect between you and your horse, but if your communication is still stuck in a world of loudness and conspicuous body language then you can bet that your relationship is definitely struggling.
Six and I are always communicating in secret.