Happy New Year, Friends!
I hope 2025 brings you much joy and peace. I also hope 2025 brings you to the farm!
One year ago, my blog post featured a photo of me making progress with Nutmeg, a little red and white mini mare who had to dig deep to find the courage to connect with humans. She studied her then paddock-mate, a mini donkey named Brownie, who modeled confidence and friendliness, and the affection he elicited from human contact must have become obvious. Slowly, she found she too could benefit from interacting, and over time, she became a happy, self-assured greeter and a leader-figure to the other minis in the herd.
In the last year, Nutmeg and I have gotten to know each other, and I feel so proud when she nickers and welcomes me like an old friend. Time spent on face rubs, neck scratches, even full-on cuddling seems to have paid off. When I tell her she’s beautiful and special, she nibbles on my shoes as if to say, “Yes, yes I am.”
While there will always be more to do with Nutmeg, I want to stop and acknowledge the role she’s playing in helping her paddock mates — two reticent mares — to develop their own confidence. In other words, what Brownie did for Nutmeg a year ago, Nutmeg now does for Cecilia and Desert Rose.
When I first met shy Cecilia and skittish Desert Rose, they exhibited curiosity, but also signs of past trauma. Each visit, they followed Nutmeg over to me to say hello, but the minute I offered my hand to sniff, they backed off. Actually, bolted. I learned quickly to let them approach me without trying to touch them, and my stillness helped, but any less-than-smooth movement on my part sent them charging to the other end of the pen, their frightened hooves kicking dust into the air around us.
However, they never stopped watching my interactions with Nutmeg, even from afar. Was that longing I spotted in their little faces? I chose to believe it was.
I generally don’t take treats to socialize with horses, but I tried treats a few times with them, hoping to tap into what I perceived as their desire to connect. The bite-sized cookies helped to break the ice with Cecilia, and she tolerated my touching her face as long as a treat followed. Interestingly, I didn’t need the cookies for long. I’m excited to share that Cecilia discovered the joy of treatless visits replete with face rubs and neck scratches, and I believe we’re on our way to a full-fledged friendship.
Each mini is different though, and Desert Rose’s no-touching rule is still in effect. She greets me and comes close enough to mouth my jacket, but it’s obvious that her trauma runs deep. I’m optimistic, though. Desert Rose studies my interactions with Cecilia the way Cecilia studies my interactions with Nutmeg — the same way Nutmeg studied my interactions with Brownie.
Before 13 Hands, my experience with horses was limited to full-size equines — the ones who weigh a thousand pounds or more. But there’s something to be said about walking into a pen with three mini mares who march over, their manes dancing rhythmically on their necks, their faces wearing expressions that (I believe) reflect their eagerness for friendship, as well as their propensity for genuine, deep affection.
I hope you’ll come to the farm to meet these amazing girls — Nutmeg, Cecilia, and Desert Rose — and all the other 13 Hands minis who have so much to give. They might be tiny little horses, but it’s become clear to me that their capacity for love is giant.
Karen
