Blog #1: Noni’s Injury June 2023

Three weeks ago, I came across an unusual sight: my mare, Noni, was refusing to move.

Her head was hanging low while she stood motionless in her paddock. She was stationed next a large bale of hay and appeared uncharacteristically subdued. Normally, she would eagerly come to greet me, but something about her behaviour was off. Although she softly nickered upon hearing me call to her, she lacked her usual enthusiasm. I was worried. What could be wrong?

Upon approaching her, I received a gentle nuzzle from her nose followed by a comforting lick and chew (a behaviour horses display when they’re processing information and feeling content). I caressed her face and scratched behind ears, her favourite spots. Realising Ineeded to examine her more closely, I braced myself for what I might find.

To my horror, I discovered a gruesome wound beneath her hind leg that was open, red, and actively bleeding. Panic surged within me. I took deep breaths, reminding myself to stay calm for Noni’s sake. I needed to come up with a plan and fast. I fetched a head collar and lead rope, intending tomove her away to a safer and more isolated area. I wanted her away from her mate, Banjo, who is the leader of the herd and often kept them on the move. I also needed to call the veterinarian.

With the head collar in place, I encouraged Noni to move, but she resisted. Her hooves were firmly placed on the ground, and after offering her some carrots she took a step, although with great reluctance. Gradually, we built up enough momentum to relocate her to a safe spot, despite her remaining uncomfortable.

I searched Noni for signs of pain and discomfort, though she offered surprisingly few. From a distance, she seemed fine, even mustering the courage to walk despite her gaping wound. Her ears perked up, as she happily accepted carrots, occasionally glancing back at Banjo. To the untrained eye, Noni appeared as completely healthy and fine.

I settled Noni and presented her with a bucket of chaff, fresh hay, and water. I knew the way to Noni’s heart was through her stomach. I made sure to feed Banjo as well, ensuring that they were both settled. I then contacted the veterinarian, who promised to arrive within the next two hours.

Drawing on my experience as a trauma nurse, I knew this wound couldn’t be bandaged due to its location. I opted to leave the wound untouched, waiting with Noni until the veterinarian’s arrival. Sometimes, a slow trickle of fresh blood is beneficial for long-term healing. I would wait until the veterinarian’s arrival so that we could determine whether stitches or sutures were necessary, in the meantime, I let Noni happily munch away on her feed.

I closely observed Noni’s behaviour and body language attempting to draw upon my years of experience studying humans across all stages of life. From newborns to elderly, we assess humans by asking a series of questions:

How did you sustain this injury?

What happened leading up to the injury?

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?

Here is some pain relief, are you comfortable now?

Would you like more?

In that moment, I realised my ability to interpret Noni’s emotions was limited. Horses are remarkable creatures, and I have dedicated my life to studying and researching them. I’ve owned multiple horses and pursued further education on them, spending years in their company.

It is important to recognise that horses are herd animals and prey animals. They do not engage in hunting, but are themselves hunted. As a consequence, they have evolved to conceal their weaknesses, as displaying vulnerability could make them targets for predators. It could also result in their own herd members expelling them, a fate that is like death to horses. A weak, injured, or vulnerable member would slow down the entire herd, putting them all at risk of injury. Horses dread abandonment.

Noni, like all pack animals, mask their pain or injuries in order to fulfil their survival needs, one of which is socialisation within a herd. Being a part of a herd is vital for a horses wellbeing.

I studied Noni closely, noticing her calm eyes. However, upon close inspection, I detected a few extra lines surrounding her eye. The indicated to me Noni’s discomfort. Her head dropped low, appearing as though she wasn’t stressed or anxious. Her ears were tilted sideways and slightly backwards, a sign of contentment. She even rested her back leg, a clear signal of comfort. Distress levels appeared low. Or so I thought.

I ruminated on how a human would react to such an injury. Typically, they would express their discomfort, identify the pain and where the wound is, and request pain relief. Yet here was Noni, nonchalantly carrying on as if nothing had happened.

I was wracking my brain, what other indicators of pain could I find? It occurred to me that Noni would have an elevated heart rate and increased respiratory rate. I quickly fetched my stethoscope. I discovered upon inspecting Noni that her heart rate was elevated, and her breathing was much higher than normal. Externally Noni maintained an appearance of composure, however, internally she was experiencing a great deal of discomfort and stress. Noni was masking her pain, fearing abandonment and wanting to remain a part of the herd.

The veterinarian arrived and Noni greeted them with the same calm demeanour, acting as if everything was perfectly fine, just a horse leisurely chewing on her hay. I insisted that the veterinarian administer pain relief immediately. Noni received a substantial dose of analgesia, and I could see her visibly relax, bringing immense relief to the both of us.

I deeply reflected on the events that had transpired as well as Noni’s behaviour.

We, as humans, are social animals. Our families are our herd. As babies, we communicate our needs, seeking comfort, nourishment, and social interaction. As we grow we encounter a variety of people, making friends and expanding our herd. Over time, herds change. Members come and go and sometimes we face rejection and move on to new herds. We join work, university, relationship, and family herds, the herds we join our boundless.

Similar to horse, we can mask our vulnerabilities, pain, and suffering to remain within a herd. This may involve accepting mistreatment from other people, sacrificing our own needs to please them, pretending to be okay to avoid confrontation. We can put on a show or façade to maintain our place in a group and prioritise the needs of others above our own. Accepting harmful behaviours, ignoring our own authenticity, body, emotions, feelings, wants, and desires are all things we as humans do in the name of survival.

Reflecting on my own life, I recognise the behaviours and actions I had taken to fit in with various herds. Within my family herd, I withheld tears and vulnerability to avoid making others uncomfortable and to not appear as weak. In my friendships, I often engaged in people-pleasing behaviour to appease others, at a cost to myself. During my adolescence I would consume alcohol to develop a sense of belonging with my peers. In the workplace I would often work long hours without compensation to appear dedicated and helpful, fearing rejection or being perceived as a ‘selfish’ healthcare worker. In my romantic relationships and friendships I often deferred to other people’s preferences, saying: ‘I don’t care, whatever you want to do’. All of this was done to avoid conflict stemming from a constant fear of being expelled from my various herds.

I know I’m not alone in these behaviours. We all fear rejection, it is only natural. Like horses, we as humans subconsciously view being cast out of our groups or herds as life-threatening.

As an equine-assisted practitioner I have witnessed clients becoming more aware of the behaviours I have described. The herd environment and the relationships clients build through interactions with horses allows them to reflect more deeply on themselves. Horses are mirrors. They reflect our behaviour and highlight areas in our lives where we need to set boundaries, improve communication, and live authentically. They help us become more aware of our own needs and how to bring about positive changes in our lives.

With awareness come the potential for change. We can live more fulfilling lives and form authentic relationships if we listen to our mind and bodies more. Relationships naturally end as we embrace our newfound authenticity, and that is okay. What is important is that we make room for authentic relationships where we can truly be ourselves.

Noni’s unfortunate injury has served as a bittersweet reminder of these lessons for me. She has mirrored to me how I, like many others, still mask vulnerability, pain and suffering to be accepted, loved, and remain within our communities. Noni assists clients on their healing journey, helping them accept who they are and that it is okay to be vulnerable.

In dealing with children and young people, I see them as being at a particularly vulnerable time in their lives. They have many similarities to horses and their herd behaviour. Equine Assisted Interventions help these young people to find who they are, help grow their confidence and ensure they have better, more fulfilling relationships. Many young people, like adults, hide their pain to fit in. They know that being a member of the herd is crucial to their survival. Horses help build confidence in young people, and give them the tools they need to build and maintain safe relationships. Horses are non-judgemental and offer a safe environment for people to reflect on their wellbeing. I love seeing clients grow in confidence, and to know that the growth can happen from Equine Assisted Therapy sessions gives me great pleasure in what I do.

Noni has now fortunately healed and is doing well! She is back with her herd, surviving and

thriving.