Alpha Mare

My horse, Brandi, dropped too much weight over the winter. The vet checked her out and determined that her teeth in the back were worn down enough that she wasn't chewing her hay well and therefore it was passing through her without providing the proper nutrition.

Simon, who manages the ranch where she's boarded, suggested moving her to the back pasture, where there are now four horses being fed pellets (condensed hay that requires less chewing). I thought of this as "the old horses pasture" -- sort of like an old folks home. Although I actually have no idea of the ages of the others there. Still, the move at first made me very sad, but I trust Simon's judgment so that's been her new home for the past six weeks.

Every time I go to the back pasture to bring her in or take her back, I pass the pasture where she used to reside. One of the horses there is named Isabella. She is, literally, skin and bone. Dying of cancer. I always check to make sure she's still there, because one of these days she won't be. But it occurred to me that Isabella isn't in the back pasture, and I'm not sure why. Maybe her person doesn't want to fork out the extra hundred bucks a month that it costs? Well, whatever the reason, somehow it made me feel better about where Brandi is now. Made me think that getting old isn't such a bad thing after all. (Mind you, Brandi is only 22, and horses live well into their thirties if they're well cared for. So it's not like she's on her last legs or anything. She's just not in her hay day, pardon the pun.)

In her former pasture, Brandi was alpha mare for a looooong time. That's the one who "runs" the herd. But then a younger, feistier mare came along and challenged her. I could see that Brandi was working hard at holding her number one position, but the competition was going on for too long. One day on our walk I said to her, "You know, you can just give in to her. It's not like you're stepping down from the alpha position, you would just be stepping aside." She got it, and life actually became easier for her then.

In the new pasture there was a little tug-of-war going on at first, pretty much just posturing to show they "still have it." But they put an end to it quickly and now they're all getting along fine. As far as I can tell they pretty much ignore each other. It's actually a nicer pasture than where she was before, and she seems quite content. In fact she has put her weight back on, and she now has a bounce in her step that's been missing awhile. She seems more like the shapely, shiny, self-assured horse I bought seven years ago. If that's not worth an extra hundred bucks a month I don't know what is.

Lessons to be learned: (1) When you decide in a situation to give up your control, you are actually in control, because you're the one doing the deciding. I was choked unconscious once, many years ago. I remember deciding to stop struggling because the more I fought, the tighter the grip became on my throat. When I blacked out and hit the floor, he thought he had killed me, and left. If I had kept fighting him instead of "giving in," I might not be here today to tell the story.

(2) Getting old isn't something you have to "give in" to. What I've discovered from my own place in life is that this is the time to work even harder at taking care of myself. I pay closer attention to what I eat, and I am more committed to exercise than I ever was in my lower digit years. Seeing contemporaries who are less fortunate in matters of health, makes me appreciate (and guard) my own rather than take it for granted or just let it go.

Brandi and I had a great time together yesterday. Some people at the ranch talk about "working" their horse. I say to Brandi, "Let's go play." We've had our battle of wills back when she behaved for me in the arena but didn't want to leave the ranch property to ride the country roads. Now that she's finally caught on that she needs to take me where I want to go, she actually enjoys our outtings as much as I do. My definition of a good ride? When my horse and I end up in the same place at the same time, and I'm still the one on top. The same could be said of life.