Nurture vs. Nature

I was leafing through my horse magazines in search of a topic to blog about when my husband suggested I air my opinion about how horses used to be sturdy and self-sufficient, but with domestication have become "big wimps." How ridiculous! At least, that's what I thought at first, but after further consideration I decided there may be something to that.

We all know that the refined modern Throroughbred is far removed from the ancient mini-draft type horses with donkey manes that are their predecessors. What of the refined and delicate looking Arabians still to be found thriving in the deserts of the Middle East?

I know that my own paints come descended from tough and hardy stock. They can keep themselves fat on less than half what a similar-sized Thoroughbred eats, and can hold their own againest marauding coyotes or dogs and with their shaggy coats, barely notice when they're standing in the snowstorm.

However, this is when they are in the big pasture, far from the comforts of home and my anxious eyes. After they are in the home corrals only a day or two they forget the skills and weapons they were born with. The first gust of wind sends them into the barn (although I admit for some reason they like to stand out in the rain if it isn't windy). They pick through mounds of hay to eat only the choicest bits -- and a strange dog sends them snorting and cavorting like idiots. They'll happily stand for hours to be brushed, curried, and pampered.

So, perhaps it is true that 1000s of years of nurturing by people has wiped out, or at least subsdued, some of Mother Nature's safeguards for the survival of the horse. Having said that, I know that horses have deeply ingrained instincts and no matter how tame, those instincts aren't going anywhere. So I guess it's the happy blend of nature and nurturing that gives horses the spirit we love.

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Broodmares

As you probably know (if you've read my past blogs), I love horses and am outraged at any poor or neglectful treatment of horses. Yet, I am a proponent of equine slaughter, and for this very reason. How wonderful it would be if every horse could have loving and caring owners to whom money is no object! Of course this is not the case, so is it best that horses endure the misery of neglect and abuse throughout their lives just for the sake of being kept alive? I say no, but of course there are those who disagree with me, and I respect that.

Actually, I'm not debating the issue in this post, as I've already done so previously. I'm evaluating the question personally, not the slaughter issue so much as euthanization. Few would argue that humane euthanization would benefit a suffering animal when the relief of a painful existence isn't otherwise possible.

But consider this: my mother-in-law approached me recently to discuss a couple of her broodmares, particularly Lottie. She was raced in Arizona, and due to some procedures on the track meant to keep her running past the time she was sound, she is now permanently unsound, even as a riding horse. However, she is 16 1/2 hands, bright chestnut with a blaze and socks - stunningly beautiful before repeated breeding made her condition dreadfully poor no matter what she is fed or how she is cared for. Her main problem is that her foals, if they are born alive, die almost immediately. Because of her pedigree, my father-in-law overlooked this flaw at first, but has now lost his patience and says she must be put down.

To me this seems terribly wasteful and shortsighted. I think it's sad that any horses are kept purely for reproduction and financial gain. The other mare in this predicament is Amanda, the horse my husband is riding in my drinking and riding post, Horses Make Good Drinking Buddies. She has been bred every year since 2000 and has never carried to term. She has one more year to reproduce or its curtains for her too.

Is this a fitting end to a racehorse or any horse in the prime of its life? And since Lottie can't be ridden, is it that much more suitable or appropriate for her? Should a mare be kept alive solely to make more horses? If you know the answer, please explain it to Lottie and Amanda.

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The Story of Whiz

I found some pictures of my favorite baby (and everyone else's) from 2004. Some are from when he was very little, and some not so little. His registered name is Shameless Mr. E but everyone calls him something different. I heard my mother-in-law use the sarcastic name Whizbang once. I thought it was adorable, so I started calling him that before he was born and to this day I just can't call him anything but Whiz.

He was born six weeks ahead of the other foals that year so his only paymates were Tickles and me. When I wasn't around he would look for her. Tickles always had endless adoration and patience for foals.

Of course, the mares won't let her near at first, so she would follow them around at a respectable distance waiting for a chance to nuzzle the baby. But after a couple of weeks the rambunctious youngsters start to wear on their dams, who then decide to welcome Tickles as a parttime babysitter.

We have video of Whiz walking over to Tickles who is sprawled and sleeping on the ground. He paws at her in the face, which makes her sit up. Then he chews on her ears and forlock until she gets to her feet to play with him, while his mother rests peacefully in the background. Tickles dotingly endured his kicking, biting, rearing, and striking, so that when he finally pooped out, she could nuzzle and nicker at him to her heart's content.

I imprinted him at birth with my husband's help. Whiz was a big strong baby and I worked with him almost daily through his yearling year. My aim is to get these guys ready for race training, which is what they were bred for. However, the general consensus about Whiz is that racing will probably not be his cup of tea. It happens.

Once he outgrew babyhood, Whiz stopped running, fighting, and playing. He lives to stand in one spot and munch hay. He looks over at the others like they're idiots as they run down to the end of the field and just to run back again. He'll do anything for a good scratch, and he follows people around like a giant puppy. He's obedient on a lead and has never thrown a fit at saddling and bridling. Very UN-Thoroughbred-like.

Whiz will likely be a saddle horse for my father-in-law or the kids, and leave the racing to the more ambitious colts.

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Derby's Pictures

Last summer, you may have read about Derby's Day at the Track (see the Archives, July 2005) in which I promised to post Derby's winning pictures. I apologize for the long wait. The picture below shows Derby crossing the finish line - you'll notice the sheer lack of contenders in the field of ten horses!

Derby Cat is a filly bred by my husband's parents. Todd and I spent many hours training and working with her. At one point she was sent to a trainer who could do nothing with her. When we got her back we started riding her until we found Gary, who took her and raced her.

This was Derby's first win and only her second race. It was also the jockey's first win, so her whole family turned out as well as ours and Gary's. In the winner's circle, as you can see, there is quite a crowd. I'm on the left wearing purple, standing next to the rodeo queens. Todd is behind me in the white cowboy hat.

That was an exciting day!

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