Willow's Journey

When I met Willow, she was quite literally untouchable. Nobody could get within meters of her - she would just run away from people, destroying a few fences in the process. A lot of her history was unknown, so this was a complete surprise to her owners at the time. They had bought her at an auction in Wales, where she had seemed calm and placid, only to bolt off the trailer as soon as they got back. From this reaction, it is likely that she was administered some form of sedative at the auction. 

 

Her owners, completely out of their depth, brought people in to try to help her. One person tried an inexperienced attempt at join-up work. Another snatched the headcollar that she was still wearing from the auction she was bought from, and forcibly lifted her feet, sending her into a state of freeze and learned-helplessness. 

 

My approach was wildly different. It was clear that she was terrified of humans, so I knew I had to be as calm, quiet, and predictable as I could be. I spent hours sitting just outside the fence of her field, doing nothing, so she could get used to my presence. Eventually, I moved inside the fence, then slowly, slowly, closer to her. This was a long process, requiring a lot of patience and presence. But I knew that if we were going to get anywhere together, it had to start with her feeling safe with me. 

 

Of course, there were times when I would accidentally scare her. I learned that one of her triggers was people’s hands going up, after I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and she shot away from me. This was a clear moment of re-experiencing - she wasn’t responding to my nonviolent actions in that moment, she was reacting to a traumatic, somatic, instinctual remembering. When there were moments like this, I made sure she knew I wasn’t going to do anything. I would walk away, soften my posture, and even step outside the fenceline if that was what it took for her to come back down from the shock. This period of our work was all about understanding and implementing the principles of rupture and repair. 

 

The key part of rupture and repair work is about building trust. She was given the opportunity to observe my actions in these moments. She got to find out how I responded in those moments where there was a rupture. By constantly repairing, in a way that made sense to her, she got to see that I really had no intentions of harming her. Slowly, we were repatterning her understanding of who humans are and what they do. 

 

I also spent a lot of time attuning to her. I would stand a little distance away while she grazed, and match my footsteps to hers. I would look up when she looked up. I would curve when she curved. This form of inter-species co-regulation sent a somatic signal to her body and nervous system - a signal that says ‘This being sees me. This being hears me. This being gets me.’

 

This is the foundation upon which all mammalian social bonds are built. Without this, we really couldn’t have built a meaningful relationship. Horse to horse relationships are especially sensitive and attentive. When we get really observant while watching them, we slowly realise how many subtle body language signals they are sending each other and responding to all the time. 

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Eventually, we got to a place where she would accept food from me. This really helped her build positive associations with me, as so far I had been focusing on changing her perception of me from a scary one to a neutral one. Now I could become someone she wanted to be with - but I made sure that it wasn’t just because I had food. Horses are deeply social mammals who are quick to co-regulate, so I spent time finding ways to support my nervous system so that it felt safe and comfortable for her to be around.

 

People may assume that working with traumatised horses is dangerous - and it is, if it isn’t done mindfully. However, one of the most important elements of Willow’s trauma recovery was keeping our sessions as uneventful as possible. This means going slowly, and being measured, thoughtful and attentive. From this approach, we built a strong and steady foundation, which made all of our work in the future ten times easier. 

 

When I first led her with a halter, it was simple, slow, and easy. I focused on using body language cues and movement synchronicity over pressure. We did small sessions that built up her confidence, and I always paid careful attention to her emotional state, making sure I didn’t send her over threshold or into shutdown. 

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Now, she is the most responsive horse I have ever known. We spend time working mostly at liberty, and she trots just from a breath cue. She is deeply attuned to me, her surroundings, and my intention, making being with her feel light and often other-worldly to be in relation to. I am endlessly grateful for her, for everything she has taught me, inspired me, but mostly just who she is as an individual. 

 

I can’t wait to see where our life together goes next!