|
MANAGEMENT
The modem riding horse has
found himself in an environment quite different from that for which
his ancestors evolved. The type of food he eats and his total food
intake are controlled by his keeper, to suit the demands of his
particular kind of work. Also, the bullying tactics of other horses
may mean that he has to be protected when he tucks into his meals.
Furthermore, in the winter months he may have his coat clipped so
that he is less likely to sweat when he is asked to perform heavy
exercise. As a consequence, he may need to be protected from cold
and wet weather. And his owners may simply not have the time to
brush caked mud off him before they take him out for a ride, so he
is stabled.
Being stabled means that
his movement is restricted. This is important for the trainers of
racehorses because they have to be able to control daily exercise -
the horses in their care need to have plenty of energy in reserve
for training sessions, and so wandering around a field is regarded
as an undesirable expenditure of energy. Consequently, like the
majority of horses in work, they are required to be willing athletes
on the one hand and contented prisoners on the other.
Restriction of movement is
not the only pièce that horses have to pay when they are stabled.
Their social life will also become limited if they have no
neighbours. If they do have neighbours, these may not be the horses
with whom they would choose to spend time if they were left to their
own devices out in the field. Indeed, even if they are housed next
door to their favourite companion, they cannot see him, smell him or
touch him as much as they would be able to at grass.
We know from the increased
number of respiratory diseases that horses get because of being
stabled that the air quality in most loose-boxes is poor. It is
worth remembering that, with their refined sense of smell, horses
are probably far more aware of strong smells than are their owners.
Horses are naturally coprophobic - in other words, they tend to
avoid dung - but there are extended periods for any stabled horse
when it simply cannot avoid its own dung. Indeed, it may have to
lie down in it to roll or to rest.
The sights and sounds
experienced by a stabled horse are certainly very different from
those out in the paddock. The presence of walls means that he can
see what is going on only by poking his head over the stable door.
If sounds are emerging from somewhere outside his field of vision he
is unable to get a clear understanding of what is going on. We do
not know whether this frustrates him, but it certainly seems to
change his response to sounds. In an attempt to gather as much
information as possible about the world outside his loose-box, the
horse will rush from his hay net to the door whenever he hears
hoof beats, neighs or the arrival of food. Therefore, the reason why
horses spend extended periods loafing over their stable doors may be
linked to both a desire to avoid unpleasant smells and to the need
to gather information.
Since horses have evolved
to respond to changes in the length of daylight in ways which
maximise the chances of reproducing successfully, lighting can
affect hormonal balance. Mares do not come into season during the
winter because eleven months later their foals would be born into a
world which was particularly cold. Keeping warm in the cold season
is not impossible, but it requires food for energy. And when one is
born without a full set of teeth this food bas to come from Mum, who
has to graze to provide the energy for milk production. This is
where the main problem lies, because in the winter months the grass
is not growing and is thus a very poor source of nutrition. So it
makes very good sense to exercise some rudimentary family planning
and to breed only when one has the resources to support one's
offspring to the stage of weaning.
When we race young
Thoroughbreds, we group them according to the year of their birth.
So we attempt to breed foals earlier in the year because they will
have a better chance when raced against their peers born in the
summer months. To do this we use artificial lighting in the mares'
stables, to add to the day length and thus persuade them to come
into season as they would do in the spring. The danger is that the
more we understand about the physiology of our horses, the more
likely we are to be tempted to alter their behaviour further by
confinement and artificial manipulations. Each time we move horses
further from their natural state, we invite behavioural
abnormalities as well as threatening their natural reproductive
fitness.
Diet
When we stable horses the
food we offer them is in a defined spot, the hay is in a hay net and
the concentrated feed in a feed bowl or manger. It may at first
seem particularly benevolent of us to help horses out by not asking
them to work to find their food. The stabled horse cannot know that
he is the product of a process called evolution, nor does he know
that this process designed him to be an animal that walked around
for sixteen hours a day while nourishing itself However, it is
possible that animals have in-built needs to perform certain
behaviours for the sake of performing them, rather than because
they achieve a specific goal. In the same way we have to have
hobbies, even though they do not appear to affect our health nor do
they earn us a living. By housing horses we have eliminated the
possibility for them to perform the wandering search, one of the
most important features of their grazing behaviour.
In the feral state horses
rarely have the inclination or the opportunity to eat dried
feedstuffs. In a drought, dried-out pasture will have lost much of
its nutritional value because it is no longer growing, and reserves
of energy will have been sent down to the root system. All the
same, as the summer months wear on horses will pick away at the
seed heads of grasses, and this is essentially why they are able to
digest the cereals that we tend to feed them as a concentrated
source of nourishment. It is largely because hay and cereals are in
a semi-preserved state and are easier to store and handle than their
fresh counterparts that we use them to feed housed herbivores such
as cattle and horses. However, the fact that these foods are not
bulked out with their original water content means that the animals
take in large amounts of nutrient very rapidly, and we have to
consider this when we take them off the pasture and start to feed
them hay and cereals. It has been said many times that the
digestive system of horses was not designed by a plumber the
numerous U-bends and junctions can cope with a diet of succulent
grass very efficiently, but the introduction of harder foods brings
with it the risk of blockages and episodes of rapid fermentation
which can upset the fine balance of the digestive process.
Continual access to clean
drinking water is certainly one of the bonuses of domestic life. In
the feral state, trips to a water source are as frequent as the
climate and the water content of the foodstuffs demand. The same is
true in a stable, and some horses even learn that eating hay is
easier if most mouthfuls are dunked in water before being chewed.
We know that after their
evening meal thirteen million Britons happily occupy themselves with
another episode of Coronation Street. But horses, in the absence of
any fascination for the latest gossip from the Rover's Retum and
with concentrated foods requiring little chewing, are often left
with time on their hands, so to speak. In fact, of course, horses
may have a quite different appreciation of time from ours, but what
cannot be disputed is that the equine mouth, the machinery that has
evolved to munch away for 70 per cent of a grazing horse's day, is
now required to lie idle between feeds, as are the legs that were
designed to carry the animal from one patch of grass to the next.
Since horses are not robots they cannot simply switch off their
machinery, so during such times of temporary redundancy there is a
rise in their motivation to perform these natural behaviours. And
where this motivation cannot be satisfied, unnatural replacement
behaviours develop.
It would make sense for an
animal that spends so much of its day foraging to be selective when
doing so. Survival can depend on acquiring good-quality sources of
energy through feeding, and the grazing behaviour of horses is
indeed a search for the leafier grass plants rather than the older
stems. It appears that the calorific value of foodstuffs can
influence horses' choice - a fact that the manufacturer of
horsefeed have used in order to make their products more palatable.
For example, treacle (or molasses) bas an instant appeal because it
is laden with calories, and mint flavouring is attractive to horses
because it is associated with very sugary sweets. Furthermore, the
palatability of food can affect behaviour in curious ways. For
instance, in horses which repetitively crib-bite (an abnormal
mouthing behaviour seen mostly in stabled horses), a more palatable
meal causes an increase in intensity of the behaviour. Current
research in the United States aims to establish why this should be.
Another feature of
domestic horse nutrition that can affect behaviour is the timing of
feeds. Fortunately for us, rhythms in a horse's natural feeding
behaviour mean that more food is consumed during daylight hours than
at night. This fits in with our desire to delivery concentrate food
to our stabled horses at what we would consider to be a sociable
hour. However, horses are naturally trickle feeders - they consume
little and often - and the bucket of cereal that a horse in heavy
work receives is a far cry from what he would call a trickle. In
fact, being fed a bucketful of concentrates is the equine equivalent
of hitting the jackpot, while hay represents the routine
pay-packet. This analogy gives us an insight into why horses'
behaviour can change so much as far as food is concerned; the
excitement that is generated by the promise of a daily jackpot win
is considerable, and frustration arises when the promised bonanza is
not delivered instantly. This explains why so many owners tell me
that their horse weaves his head from side to side only before being
fed. The level of anticipation created by the rattling of a feed
bucket is recognised by anyone who uses this auditory cue to attract
horses in a field.
Horses must have a
different experience of appetite from our own. Whereas their
stomachs were developed to be almost continually topped up, we
humans, as hunters and gatherers, had the capacity to gorge
ourselves when a plentiful food source was encountered. So we are
probably better designed to go without food than the horses in our
stables. In the feral state, grazing is interrupted by sleep only
for one or two hours at a time, but the domesticated animal often
finishes his hay net around midnight and then has to wait another
five or six hours before having something called 'breakfast'.
As well as controlling the quality, quantity and
frequency of the food offered to our stabled horses, we also control
its vitamin and mineral content. The importance of
'micronutrients' should not be overlooked, since horses seem to know
better than we do when they are experiencing a deficiency and will work to acquire them. I am convinced that this
is why groups of horses can be found grinding their way through
mouthfuls of mud while surrounded by lush grazing. Given anecdotal
reports of such curious cravings, we should be very cautious about
our definition of pica, or depraved appetite, in the horse.
Similarly, we must bear in
mind that horses, more than most animals, have a need for roughage
in their diets. To deny them access to sufficient plant fibre is
often a catalyst for wood-chewing which, sadly, is regarded by many
owners as a 'stable vice'. To attach the label 'vice' to a
behaviour is to imply that the animal is in some way responsible and
that he is performing it with vicious intent. A more scientific
approach to this eating anomaly would be to accept that our
understanding of the nutrition of horses is by no means complete.
For example, traditional horse folk will give their charges access to
coal and gorse without claiming to know what benefit they may offer
or why, from time to time, they should be eaten with such gusto.
Equally, we know that oats have a 'heating', or over-exciting,
effect on the behaviour of ponies and, to some degree, horses. Some
equine nutritionists account for this phenomenon by reminding us
that chocolates can have similar effects on certain small children,
to the extent that it can make them behave as though they have
recently consumed hard drugs! Beyond that we do not know what it is
about oats that elicits this change in behaviour, nor do we know why
ponies are generally so much more sensitive to their effect.
Exercise
Food intake can certainly affect a horse's
inclination and ability to perform heavy work. Like most
quadrupeds, the horse carries his stomach in close proximity to his
diaphragm, against which lie his lungs. The presence of a full
cargo of 15 litres (16½
quarts) of roughage tends to reduce the
efficiency with which the lungs expand and contract which is why we
tend to reduce food intake before exercise and why we should avoid
feeding fatigued horses until their respiratory rate bas returned to
normal.
The significance of
exercise differs as between man and horse. For example, a horse's
desire to run may original in play but, more importantly, the
ability to run comes from the need to escape from predators. We,
meanwhile, exercise horses for the leisure and competitive appeal
that horse riding holds. It seems likely, therefore, that the
gradual introduction of work at different paces, for the sake of
ensuing musculoskeletal fitness before exertion, must be very
difficult for horses to understand. They cannot know that six weeks
of exercise at a relatively slow pace is the recommended way of
avoiding tendon damage. This regime seems to be especially
frustrating for horses that have become accustomed to galloping in
particular parts of their locality. After a period of rest, daily
outings during the lengthy fattening process have to avoid areas
that have strong associations with reckless displays of speed.
For health reasons,
horse folk are careful to give their charges regular, daily exercise
and they ensure that days off are accompanied by a cut in energy
intake. This approach has tremendous merit, in that it evokes a
sense of routine which allows the horse to adjust its stable
behaviour in anticipation of imminent ridden work. This is why
experienced hunters refuse their breakfast on the mornings of a meet
- having learned to associate procedures like being plaited up with
the promise of fast work in equine company, they become too excited
to stand quietly and feed.
It pays to consider the
effect that the amount of exercise can have on a horse's attitude to
work and on his general behaviour. From our own experience, we know
that a feeling of fatigue can be accompanied by exhilaration. This
does not come from a sense of achievement alone, because we can get
a buzz from running twenty-six miles without actually winning the
London Marathon. In the short term extended periods of work can
lead to exhaustion, with the horse having to rest before resuming
the business of eating. Once he becomes fitter and more accustomed
to heavy work, these rest periods become shorter and his thirst for
exercise can become difficult to meet. Like humans who experience
the 'jogger's high', it is possible that equine athletes generate
their own natural pain-killers, called endorphin. If these bring
with them a sense of well-being, the horse may learn that to keep
producing them is rewarding. This may be why I am often told of
endurance horses that will spend all night box-walking, or in some
cases box-trotting, after a forty-mile race.
The use of the whip can
undoubtedly affect behaviour and is a particularly contentions
welfare issue of long standing. As with any form of punishment, or
negative reinforcement, one bas to be extremely careful about when
in a given set of circumstances one applies the pain. How many
times do we see horses refuse a jump by charging off to one side of
the obstacle or the other? This is usually followed by a short
struggle before the rider pulls the horse up to a more controlled
pace and then gives it a belting. It is worth considering whether
that horse has associated the pain with the refusal to jump, or with
the fact that he was eventually pulled up. Horses have such good
memories that there is a place for the light use of a whip as a
reinforcer when the animal has not responded to a more subtle
signal. In fact, even carrying a whip without ever actually using
it can also change his behaviour.
In discussing different
horse types,
I mentioned that warm-bloods' tend to be more flighty,
or reactive. This means that when being trained they may respond to
more subtle stimuli than their thicker-skinned 'cold-blooded'
classmates. This responsiveness can be preserved by only ever
applying delicate pressure with the legs and hands. Conversely, the
heavy
handed approach to equitation effectively leads
to a numbing of the gums where the bit lies and the horse is said to
have become 'hard-mouthed'. The tendency of riding school horses to be
unresponsive bas similar origins, in that these are the paragons of
patience who have to put up with novice riders constantly giving
contradictory leg and hand signals. The rider's flapping legs say
'Go', while the reins, rather selfishly pulled to assist his or her
balance, are saying 'Stop'. So unresponsiveness prevails, and as
the years of a school horse's life go by, instructors tend to find
themselves using the words 'Kick him' far more often than 'Praise
him'.
I am often asked if horses
know when they have won a race or a show-jumping class, and it is a
source of considerable annoyance to some people when I explain that
it is not possible. To know one has won, one has to know in the
first place that one bas been competing. If we stop to consider
what competition means to horses, we remember that they have evolved
to compete for resources, such as food and water. Winning these
natural prizes rarely involves racing one another or jumping fences,
so these activities are irrelevant to natural forms of equine
competition. Horses cannot know that it is essential to be in the
lead at the point on the Aintree race-course where the crowds are
gathered (the finishing post). At Hickstead they cannot know that
the previous horse's clear round means that they have to do the same
in a faster time in order to earn applause. However, what is likely
is that owners and riders can transmit a sense of elation, which the
horse may learn to associate with praises and rewards. This can
enhance performance, but not competitiveness.
Regardless of whether our
horses are competing or working to earn their crust, the work
clothes that we make them wear can have a resounding impact on their
behaviour. All over the world people use a variety of saddles,
bridles and bits on their horses, ponies and donkeys. The extent to
which these pieces of saddlery actually fit the wearers without
causing discomfort or pain bas not been assessed, but we do know
that even if a saddle is expertly fitted it will probably fit less
well the moment the animal loses or gains weight. The times we have
to adjust a rucksack during a morning's walk should give us some
idea of the pressures that come to bear when we put tack on our
horses. We know that back pain of this sort can be sufficient to
put them off 'jumping as readily as can bad riding. So it is not
unreasonable to imagine that riding on the flat is also affected,
and that a horse's general behaviour when ridden will suffer. In
the same way we can alter the behaviour and responsiveness of a
horse by introducing a different bit: in most instances, we tend to
reach for a 'stronger' bit when we are experiencing problems of
control. In fact, what we are resorting to is simply a more painful
device, or one that applies an equivalent pain to a different part
of the head.
Finally, on occasions when
we withdraw exercise, we always have to bear in mind the
considerable psychological challenge that this can represent to fit
horses. They may spend one day cavorting across the countryside in
the company of other horses, ridden by people in bright red jackets,
and the next day be turned out into a paddock with a geriatric grey
mare with a very furry coat. A far worse waning of imminent boredom
comes when the veterinary surgeon, having watched the horse trot up
the lane, utters the words, 'Six weeks' box rest'. This probably
makes the notion of day after day in the field with the old dear in
grey seem like paradise. Box rest can seldom be what it is intended
to be, since the horse can still wander around his 'hospital ward'
and can do so at the trot if he feels like it. Equally, the first
trot after a period of enforced rest so regularly turns into a leap,
a lurch and a canter that one is left wondering whether any putative
healing process has been undone. |
