Horses, being prey animals, are scared of many things. These things include and are not limited to:
- birds
- bees
- butterflies
- odd looking bits of grass
- shadows
- a noise that only they can hear
- suspicious looking rocks
- puddles
- bags (plastic and/or paper)
The list is endless.
However, the things that horses should be scared of; things that could genuinely kill them, they tend to be OK with, like; cars, tractors, lorries, provided they all pass at a safe, slow, respectable distance.
In the village that The Horse lives there is a small military airfield that is used regularly. Helicopters often fly quite low over the fields, but always at a distance that is deemed ‘safe’. On training days, most of us humans will specifically avoid riding by the airfield because we find them big, loud and scary.
However, myself and one other are not so sensible. When the helicopters are out we take it as a challenge to ride by exactly when the helicopters are farthest from the base. This of course is not always possible.
On one occasion we timed it terribly.
“OMG there’s one coming in!” I was tense and slightly terrified.
“Doobeedoo, I’m at the top of the hill.” The Horse was unfazed.
“OMG it’s so big!”
“What did you say!? I can’t hear you!”
“Horse, it’s coming, it’s gonna land on us. Eeeek!” I hunched deep into the saddle, bracing against the huge vibrations and turbulence buffeting me.
“WTF is that!? It’s going to land on me!” The Horse had finally noticed the helicopter, terrifyingly close, right above our heads as it came in to land. He almost disappeared under me as he shrank away, trying to become one with the tarmac.
Then just as suddenly “Oh, it was a helicopter.” and The Horse continued walking on normally while my heart pounded and hands shook.
“OMG that was terrifying!”
“It was a helicopter.” The Horse noted reasonably.
“But it was so big and loud! And so close!”
“Yeah, and…”
OK, so The Horse had a point. I couldn’t help but feel a little shamed at the fact that my big, dark horse that was scared of butterflies was braver around helicopters than me.
We continued our ride.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“That noise…”
“That’s a grass strimmer, we’ve passed at least four of them today.”
“Sounds dangerous to me.” the Horse slowed to what could hardly be called a walk. “What if it hits a stone!?”
“I’m sure it won’t, horse. Let’s go.”
Thankfully the man using the strimmer quickly spotted us and turned off the machine so we could pass with less fuss.
“See, horse. It’s fine.”
“Sure, whatever. I still don’t trust it.”
We tiptoe by, thanking the nice man for considering our fearful beasts and continue homeward bound.
It’s times like these I think that horses should be thankful humans love and care for them. Their survival instincts are seriously skewed.