Why do we so rarely look at the horse’s eyes as a guide to what they are thinking? I’ve read very few articles, and heard very few horsepeople talk about the horse’s eyes in any but most anthropomorphic fashion, as in “oh he looks sad”, or “he has a cheeky look on his face”. We judge other people’s moods and thoughts by the expression in their eyes, and we respond to that, often more so than to the spoken words. But, for some reason, we tend to not use that same tool to help us understand our horses.
Of course, it is hard to see a horse’s eyes when you are in the saddle: hence the feel of the body, the shape of the neck, the tilt of the head are the clues we have to rely on to know what the horse is thinking about doing. But, on the ground, looking at where the horse is looking is a very good indicator of what he is thinking of.
Becky gets very good with keeping half-a-mind on me, doing as I ask her to do, when what I am asking is something she is very familiar with. She will even do a decent job of maintaining the shape I require of her with her body and head position. But where her eyes are looking will be a giveaway as to where the other half of her focus is; where she would really rather pay full attention to, rather than to me.
For example, the other day I was struggling with getting Becky into the new washbay. Not really a “bay”, it was just a bit of concreted ground, with some wooden rails around it. Becky was not good on concrete: she dis not feel surefooted on it, as many horses don’t. However, even more of a problem for me turned out to be the presence of another horse in a yard some 20 meters from the bay. It was that horse that Becky wanted to watch, which caused her to resist coming into the bay, or, if she came in, she would come on a diagonal – shouldering her way in - regardless of whether I was in the way or not.
Becky is not normally a pushy horse, hence the fact that she was coming so close to me, disregarding my slapping of the leadrope in order to block her shoulder, concerned me.
However, it was the fact that I was concentrating on that shoulder was what not letting me see the real problem. Or, rather, I was seeing the third or fourth expression of the problem. The very first clue to it was happening even before Becky moved: instead of looking at me, or in the direction I was asking her to move, Becky was eyeing that other horse (even though her head was mostly pointing towards the washbay, with only the slightest tilt towards the other horse).
So, in order for me to get her into the washbay, I had to forget about the washbay, but make it about me: about Becky changing her focus from the other horse to me. Twitching or tugging the leadrope, asking Becky to look at me – really look at me – and then asking again when her attention drifted – that was the first step! After I could maintain her focus, I could start asking her to shift her focus in the direction I wished – towards the washbay – but I had to be extremely careful for her not to lose her focus and drift away. And the way I could tell she was mentally leaving me were also her eyes. Just like humans, when we get bored with listening to someone and start daydreaming, her eyes glazed over a little bit when her attention was lost to me.
At that point I had to stop her movement (as that was when she was likely to start shouldering towards me), and again twitch the rope to return her attention. Rinse and repeat, praising every try of movement which happened with the correct focus as I requested.
In the end, I got her into the washbay in a straight line after, what must’ve looked like, fifteen minutes, of shuffling outside the washbay. All the information I needed to understand the problem, and to solve it, were in her eyes!
(can’t claim the credit for coming to this conclusion though: Marina was there, once again, with her wisdom).
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