Poppy’s Playmate

If you squint, it’s hard to differentiate the two little black mares who came in together as part of the Graham 27 seizure. They’re both small of stature, both rather narrow, both almost fully black. In the shadows, it’s hard to even tell they’re there. When night check makes their rounds to feed, I can imagine on moonless nights all they see is the glint of four pairs of eyes, waiting for hay in the darkness. And it would be four pairs, two right beside each other, because these girls are never apart long. In the human world, we might call it codependent, but in the horse world, it goes by herdbound. While it is sweet to see them together, it means that if and when they are separated, the little ghouls in each of them (if we’re continuing the spooky motif) emerge, and boy howdy do they sure know how to howl.

 

Herdboundness is not a positive trait. At the heart of it is an inability for the horse to feel comfort away from its friends, and all the feelings and actions of insecurity that result from that. When Moshi would inevitably have to leave Poppy’s side, or vice versa, the two would hoot and holler at such an ear-shattering decibel it’s remarkable any of us still have our hearing. They had a hard time focusing on what was being asked of them in a working context, and instead would spend their time in the round pen looking frantically for their missing friend. Though they loved being together, it was clear it was ultimately to their detriment. We would have to pull them apart for training, or if one got hurt or sick, or on the day when one was adopted.

 

So we made the difficult, but necessary, decision to vacation them from each other for a little while. Off to opposite sides of the property they went, at first protesting quite loudly, but we were careful to watch them for any potential self-injurious behaviors.

It didn’t take them all that long to quiet down, and they both adjusted well into their new spaces with their new neighbors.

 

The difference was marked. When we had to bring them both into stalls, we separated them there as well, and attempted to be sneaky about walking one past the other. But we needn’t have worried – after the initial call of recognition, they both settled back into their respective areas.

 

And then, one afternoon, we brought them back together. We needed to consolidate paddocks, and to pair up two existing friends was the easiest choice. Their reunion was a happy one, to be sure.

 

But the best part of this story? Their intense herdboundness is much reduced. You can take Poppy from Moshi, or vice versa, and not see (or hear!) the other go off the rails. And they get the best of both worlds: being able to enjoy each other’s company and still feel secure in themselves and the support they get from the humans who are interacting with them. Sometimes, distance really does make the heart grow – if not fonder, then definitely stronger.