[PHASE 1] - First impressions

A group of horses had been taken in by the rescue center a few days ago for various reasons and they contacted me to ask if I had space at home to take in one of them. Taking in such a horse does not just mean offering shelter, it often also means starting over from scratch. For some, it begins with teaching them to trust humans again, comport themself likes horses and then later starting them under saddle.

Of course, I cannot stand by when a horse is in distress, it’s simply not in my nature, I had to do something to help them. So I accepted without the slightest hesitation. I went to the rescue center, where I was shown two horses with very different personalities. I chose the mare because there was something about her that intrigued me. I had never seen a case like hers before, and I sincerely wanted to help her, not everyone can take care of a case like this but I’ve had previous experiences with past rescues horses and I wanted to offer her the best life possible. I felt something special when I connected with this horse, a kind of chemistry you don’t come across every day.

After making my choice, it was time to bring her home and begin the work that would hopefully lead her to the life she should have had from the beginning.

Upon arriving at the stables, the trailer was slowly opened. Total silence: no whinnying, no clatter of hooves. The trailer seemed empty; you’d wonder if there was even a horse inside. She stood frozen, her eyes wide open, her muscles visibly tense from stress, yet her gaze was completely blank, as if her soul had left her body.

Worried, the transporter told me the horse had been like that since the moment she was loaded into the trailer, she hadn’t moved at all, barely even breathing. It was as if the light inside her had gone out.

I approached slowly, climbed into the trailer as quietly as I could, and reached out my hand, avoiding any sudden movements, just like I do with every horse, to let her catch my scent and show her I meant no harm. Usually, this triggers a reaction: either a flinch of fear or a cautious sniff. But this time… nothing. She didn’t recoil, but didn’t stretch her neck out either. She remained utterly still and closed off.

This horse seemed to have been conditioned not to respond at all. She looked like a lifeless doll. There was no spark in her eyes, no twitch of a muscle, nothing but the beat of her heart gave away that she was even alive.

It took us several hours to get her out of the trailer. No sudden movements, only patience and gentleness. I began by securing the surroundings and closing the paddock gates. A clear path had been laid out leading to her designated paddock, so I could afford to take things slowly and even let her go if needed.

Once everything was in place, I opened the safety bar. Any other stressed horse would have bolted, but not her. I tried tempting her with sugar cubes and carrots to elicit some kind of reaction : still nothing. After many attempts, I finally managed to get her to step out. She followed the lead rope with slow, mechanical steps. She followed me without resistance to the paddock, but not once did she glance around or turn her head to observe her surroundings. I had never seen anything like it.

Some people might say it’s convenient to have a horse that doesn’t react, like a "fully insured model." But there’s a world of difference between a desensitized horse who can remain calm under pressure, and the mare walking behind me. Her behavior was far from normal. This wasn’t desensitization, it was conditioning. Any trace of life had been stripped from her to turn her into a rag doll. (And I won’t speak of the likely unethical methods used to get her to that point.)

Once in the paddock, I removed the lead rope but left the halter on, just in case. I didn’t know how she might react if I had to put it back on.

The paddock had been prepared carefully for her arrival : no walls, nothing that could feel confining. I had also paid close attention to the materials : no metal to avoid jarring noises. There was a large water trough and unlimited grass. I had made sure to keep the other horses on the far side of the property, preferring a slow introduction to avoid any unnecessary stress.

Despite all these precautions, she stood in the middle of the paddock for hours, completely still. At first, I figured it would be best to leave her alone for a while. She had, after all, just undergone a major transition from her previous home, to the rescue center and then to my home. I didn’t know anything about her past, but one thing was certain : for a horse to be in such a state, she couldn’t have had an easy life. She must have been taught that reacting was pointless.

Still seeing no response, I eventually tried to approach again. I came back with carrots, sugar cubes and apples, hoping to elicit even the smallest sign of interest. But nothing worked, I was still faced with a motionless statue.

When the evening came, I returned to the paddock but didn’t try anything. I simply sat on the fence, not even looking at her.

I used the time to think of a name for the beautiful mare, after all, we couldn’t go on calling her “the horse” or “the mare” forever. I needed a name that would suit her. Why not Selene? The name of the moon goddess : white as your coat. It would symbolize a new beginning. I promise you, no matter what you've been through, from now on we will treat you like a goddess.

—“What do you think? Selene, does that name suit you?”

To my surprise, the moment I spoke those words, something changed. I saw her muscles loosen slightly. She lowered her head, took a few steps, and went to drink from the water trough. Finally, after an entire day, she moved.

I decided to gently approach Selene. I got off the fence and quietly walked over to the trough. Once I reached her shoulder, I waited for her to finish drinking. When she raised her head, I slowly extended my hand toward her muzzle, without touching her. At first, she froze again, just like before. I also noticed scars scattered across her body, signs that she had been hit and more than once.

Not wanting to stress her further, I began to pull my hand back, but at that moment, she moved her head slightly. I left my hand where it was to see what she would do next. And to my amazement, she leaned her head forward and sniffed it.

It may seem like a small gesture, but given the day we had just lived through, it was a tremendous step forward.

I hope this marks the beginning of a new friendship : one that, I hope, will last a very long time.