Horses in a Herd Learning to Interact

Slowly over the years some of their faces have changed, and others have been added. The herd is now 21 horses, meandering over several very large grazing areas. As I watch the horses grazing and playing through their days, I realize that they have clear but dynamic relationships with each other.

Several of the horses dominate the herd with usually benevolent, but occasionally very aggressive actions. A few others always take up the bottom rung of their social order. The majority fit somewhere within these two extremes. Regardless of where they stand on the rungs of their social ladder, each of the horses seems content with their lot. To a casual observer, their group might seem amorphous - just a large group of horses drifting around nibbling grasses and swishing tails. To me they are like a very large extended family. Some of them are sweet, some insecure, others bossy or downright grouchy. Some stick together is goofy, playful groups, while others are very clear that they want to be left to peacefully graze or rest.

The group works together so well that I seldom need to think about how they get along. Usually they just do. However, when a new horse is introduced to the herd, I see that they are like, well, a river. Underneath the calm surface run all kinds of currents. A new horse stirs the waters, and the ripples are felt throughout the herd. We recently introduced a big strapping sorrel gelding to the herd, giving me the opportunity to observe his integration. Was he going to enter at the bottom rung of the social ladder, settle somewhere in the middle, or dominate his way right to the top. And what actions would determine that?

The gelding, named King had previously had the opportunity to blow into the noses of most of the horses over a wooden fence, so he wasn't entirely unknown to the herd. On that first day, I let him out with a portion of the herd, comprised of 8 horses. By the time I had his halter off, 4 of those horses had wandered off up the meadow, so my initial observations are of his meeting only the remaining 4 horses, 3 geldings and a young mare.

The initiation was actually quieter, and more drawn out than I had expected. King wandered, almost casually into the area where the horses were grazing. For several moments, it appeared as if they were going to ignore him, but then Dancer, the most dominant horse of the group, lifted his head and walked over to him. What followed was a pattern that I saw repeated over and over during the next hour or so. They brought their heads together with necks arched, and appeared to either sniff - or blow into each others nostrils. Suddenly one of them would squeal, and they would jump apart, one or both of them striking out. They would return to grazing as if nothing had happened, but within a few minutes the "greeting" would be repeated. Occasionally, rather than touching noses, the two would appear to sniff each others shoulders, and down their front legs, or each others flanks. While I thought they were getting to know each others smell, it might have been a very different action that I was witnessing; sometimes I noticed that they appeared to be lipping each other, rather than just sniffing. And again, they would sometimes end their interaction with a squeal and sudden jump apart. I was entranced. What is it, exactly, that they were communicating during these exchanges? Were they getting to know each other, or playing chicken?

Ollie, a less dominant gelding of the herd remained out there grazing with them, but when King headed in his direction, he simply moved off a little. Ollie did sniff at King's tail and hind quarters, but they did not blow into each others noses. King also approached the young mare briefly. She pinned her ears tightly to her neck, and shook her head at him, and he left her alone.

I eventually left the 4 horses to finish getting acquainted. Over the intervening several weeks I have seen King and Dancer approach each other several times with their necks arched, to repeat the greeting that I witnessed that first day. King has settled into the middle of the herd, and Dancer remains very near highest level of leadership. The ripples caused by the new social interactions are smoothing out, and calm is returning. King has found a place in the herd. Or the others have made a place for him. I sometimes wonder how these horses perceive their own place. Any one of them is capable of inflicting great damage on the others. Yet, by whatever social agreement horses are born with, as long as their needs for food, water and space are met, they live in relative harmony with each other. They all seem to deal with disturbances such as the addition of new faces in the herd, with relative equanimity. Perhaps their willingness to accept such changes is one of the reasons that we humans have been so successful with them.