“If wishes were horses all beggars would ride.” – Unknown
I am confident that many of my clients have a well-intentioned
sympathy for my plight. Just about every day, I get to try
to figure out what and why a half-ton quadruped with a brain
the size of a lemon has done now. Undoubtedly spurred by a
sort of veterinary Stockholm syndrome (both of us hostage
to the horse), my wonderful clients will often express a wish
on my behalf, as to how they think my life could be easier.
When I am in the process of unraveling the clues that the
horse may give as to what is really wrong with him, there
are certainly times that I think how much easier things could
have been, “If only.” When it comes to preventing or impeding
the unraveling of clues, horses seem to be endlessly resourceful,
and daydreaming doesn’t help. Nevertheless, from time to time
I do find myself wondering what things would be like if my
clients’ wishes could come true. And, when I’m finished wondering,
I’m confident that even if they could come true, things probably
wouldn’t be much different than they are.
“Don’t you wish horses could talk?”
People seem to have the general idea that the most difficult
thing about horse medicine is that the animals can’t tell
you what their problem is. I suppose that a talking horse
might be helpful, on occasion. Still, speaking hasn’t really
made human medicine much easier in most cases, so I can’t
imagine that things would really be all that different if
horses could verbalize their problems. Besides, with physical
cues like lifting a hind leg (“Don’t even think about catching
me”), laying back ears, (“Oh, no, not you again), and picking
up the head with an eye as wide as a saucer, (“You are NOT
going to give me a shot”), they really don’t need to say much
else.
But there’s another side to the horse talking scenario. How
about this? You get on your horse, and, not eager to complete
yet another 20 meter circle, he says, “Hey, you put on some
weight up there?” You decide to bandage his legs, and he opines,
“Red is such a dreary color; I’ve always preferred blue,”
(oh wait, some horse “psychics” already seem to understand
this, even overlooking the fact the horses are largely color-blind).
You decide to go out on your favorite trail ride: “Again?”
Speaking is definitely a double-edged sword. Or, as another
famous aphorism tells us, “Silence is golden.”
Here’s another one. “Don’t you wish horses could be kept in
padded stalls?”
This one seems to come from the idea that the poor unfortunates
injure themselves merely because of the confines of their
surroundings. I suppose there’s some truth to that, but, honestly,
doesn’t it sometimes seem that a horse is looking for trouble?
They are devilishly creative at finding ways to get into trouble,
a fact to which anyone who has seven latches on their stall
door can attest. So, sure, it would be great if we could eliminate
all threats from a horse’s environment, but, there’d still
be a problem: the horse. I mostly think that if a horse was
kept in a padded stall, it would just figure out some way
to eat the padding, and then colic.
Of course, my clients (generally female) sometimes have an
equine-related wish or two for themselves. One in particular
seems quite personal, and is usually muttered in the middle
of a grooming session, or after a particularly good ride,
to wit, “I wish my husband was more like my horse.”
I’ve never had the courage to ask anyone why this might be,
nor have I asked if they’ve really given that particular wish
any deep thought. There must be something in having someone
around who doesn’t argue much, or that takes you where you
want to go when and where you want, or that stands happily
while you give him attention, that appeals to some deep human
care-taking emotion. Apparently, that something is enough
to even want it in a spouse.
Still, as much as I don’t understand this last wish, from
a husband’s perspective, I can see a lot of advantages to
being a horse. The way I look at it, if I were a horse, I’d
be kept in a relatively safe environment (no predators), I’d
be well fed, I’d be groomed and cared for, I’d have regular
exercise, and, I’d be left alone for twenty-some hours a day,
with a few friends around. (And don’t even go to the scenario
of being a breeding stallion.) About all that would be missing
would be cable TV. But as much as I like trying to make my
wife’s wishes come true, I don’t think I’ll be proposing that
any time soon.
