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Tied Up in Knots
One of my absolute favorite
characteristics about Haflingers is their
long lovely manes--the whiter, and wavier, the better. I enjoy
everything about that long hair -- except sometimes the
maintenance
involved. It usually doesn't take alot of fuss, but this time of
year,
when the air is moist and there is frequent rainfall, I find that
those
long manes come in from the fields all a-tangle and frequently in
elaborate tight knots. Not just uncombed dreadlocks, but tight,
cinched
up and truly snarled knots.
I have two theories about how these knots and tangles happen:
Most likely, I suspect the Haflingers tend to toss their heads
and shake
their necks more in the rain, to shower off the raindrops that
are
dripping down their faces. There is something about this
repetitive
movement that causes the long mane strands to knot and then flop
and
fold back into themselves with each neck shake, so that there are
sometimes three, four or five successive knots tied in a
collection of
strands.
A second theory involves one very agile Haflinger mouth, tying
knots in
her unsuspecting pasture mates' manes. I haven't witnessed this
personally, but this theory is suggested by the fact that I have
several
horses who always come in with knotted manes and one who never
does.
The "knotter" and the "knottees?" Perhaps....
My Scandinavian friends tell me
there is a little gnome named Tomten
in a gray coat and red cap who lives in the barn and ties knots
in pony manes as a way to
show how much he is caring for the farm. I haven't seen him at
work, as my
little Tomten gnome swings on a swing in our back yard and I have
yet to see
him do anything except smile and make me happy when I look at
him. But I like
the thought that he may be responsible for these tangles.
So these wet evenings, I find myself working down the barn aisle,
releasing all these knots that have formed during the day. This
can be
a bit time consuming and not a little aggravating, but necessary
if I
hope to keep these three and four foot manes intact and growing.
So far
I've not had to take scissors to any, but that is only because in
matters of Haflinger mane, I'm extremely motivated and patient.
Long white flowing wavy manes are part of the "fairy
tale" that
Haflingers embody. They are sadly being lost in some of the
modern
bloodlines, as the trend is toward a lighter weight hair that is
more
easily hunter braided and thinned, more like a warmblood type
sporthorse's minimal mane. True, all the long Haflinger mane can
get
tangled in the reins or the lines and represent a hazard, and
though
there is always the question of just how much a Haflinger can
actually
see through all that forelock, nevertheless, I want the hair to
stay,
and it kills me to even cut a bridle path.
What is the good of all that hair besides aesthetics? It surely
is an
outer protective layer in the harsh weather conditions to which
Haflingers had to adapt long ago, and it is amazingly effective
at
keeping the head and neck warm and dry. The double manes are
incredible
umbrellas, allowing the rain to drip down that top oily layer of
hair
and drop to the ground, never touching the fur and skin
underneath. But
what a sauna it creates in the heat of summer!
There are times I wish I wore such a "veil"
myself--able to hide my face
when I need to, and impervious to the harshness sometimes flung
my
way--i.e. the "slings and arrows" of every day life.
But when things
heat up, it can be quite a liability with the heaviness and
uncompromising barrier it creates. A difficult trade off for the
potential comfort of privacy and protection risking smothering,
knotting
and tangling. Like the Haflingers, I can only hope that when I'm
all
tied up in knots, someone will care enough to untangle me gently,
smooth
me out, and braid me up so I feel relief in the midst of heat,
respecting me enough to not destroy a characteristic that helps
define
who I am.
So I keep caring for those manes, knowing their loveliness has
its
downside, and recognizing they are part of what makes my horses
"Haflingers", the fairy tale horses that dance in my
dreams, which are
part of what makes me who I am.
Emily from BriarCroft
http://www.briarcroft.com/emily.htm