The Helping Horseshoe Therapeutic Riding Club

Interesting read. And it will never get easier.
Kara Stark McGrew

✨🧬 WHY LOSING A HORSE HURTS SO MUCH
And why this time of year brings it all back 🐴💔

People outside the horse world often do not understand why the grief hits so sharply. Yet the science is clear. The bond between humans and horses is not imaginary, sentimental, or exaggerated. It is neurological. Physiological. Relational. And something else that sits in the space we still call magic.

Here is what research tells us.

🌿 1. Horses meet the criteria for attachment figures
Attachment theory says we form deep bonds with those who feel safe, steady, and emotionally reliable.
Horses do all of this.

• We seek proximity.
• They act as a secure base.
• We turn to them for comfort.
• We feel distress when separated.

Studies on the human–animal bond confirm that animals can be both caregivers and receivers of care. Horses are especially good at co regulation and emotional presence.

🧠 2. Your nervous system literally bonds with theirs
Oxytocin, often called the bonding hormone, rises in humans when they stand near a horse.
It rises in horses too.
Two nervous systems responding to each other in real time.
That is why the connection feels grounding, calming, and honest.

When this becomes part of your daily rhythm, the bond embeds itself neurologically.

💔 3. Grief is not a neat, tidy process
Modern neuroscience describes grief as a total rewiring of your internal map.
Your brain organises whole routines around the beings you feel attached to.
When the horse is no longer there:

• The map collapses.
• The routines echo.
• The body keeps searching for the presence it expects.

This is why walking into the stable after a loss can feel physically painful. Your nervous system is trying to update information it does not want to accept.

🌀 4. The “reward centre” of the brain is involved
In complicated grief, the nucleus accumbens stays active.
This area usually lights up when we see someone we love.
After a death, it can activate when we see reminders of them instead, creating a loop of:

cue → longing → sadness → craving the connection

Attachment does not switch off. It tries to continue.

🫂 5. Society often dismisses grief for animals
This is called disenfranchised grief.
No rituals.
Minimal acknowledgement.
A subtle message that the loss is “less than”.

Yet research shows animal bonds can be as significant as human ones.
Your grief is legitimate, even if the world is awkward around it.

❄️ 6. Winter amplifies old grief
Short days.
Cold mornings.
Slower routines.
The nervous system becomes quieter, and what was once tucked away becomes louder.
This is normal.
This is human.
This is attachment.

🌟 The Equimotional View
The human–horse relationship sits at the crossroads of science and something beautifully unmeasurable.
Horses shape our nervous systems, our identity, our steadiness.
When they go, the grief reflects the depth of that connection, not the weakness of the person feeling it.

If the winter months feel heavy, nothing is wrong with you.
You are remembering.
Your body is telling the story of a bond that mattered.

And bonds like that do not disappear.
They change shape.
They stay with us.
Quietly. Powerfully. Always.

My college bestie shared. Also wanted to share
Kara Stark McGrew

There is a state in the horse’s nervous system that can be so quiet, so still, so compliant on the outside that it easily passes as calm.
A state where the horse does everything asked, doesn’t resist, doesn’t react, and doesn’t offer much at all.

Shutdown.

Shutdown is one of the most frequently misinterpreted states in the horse world - not because people lack compassion or experience, but because it so closely resembles the behaviours many of us were taught to value: stillness, obedience, focus, good manners.

And because this state is subtle, internal, and largely silent, even dedicated riders, trainers, and equine professionals can miss it.
Awareness is growing - across disciplines, welfare science, and training approaches - but shutdown still hides in plain sight.

This isn’t a criticism of any method. It’s a reflection of how we were all conditioned to read horses.

Shutdown isn’t dramatic.It isn’t loud.It doesn’t spook or bolt or buck or rear.

Shutdown disappears.

And anything that disappears is hard to see - until you learn what you’re looking at.

So what is shutdown really?

Shutdown is associated with what current nervous-system models describe as a dorsal vagal immobilisation response - a biological conservation state the body enters when:

• fight or flight aren’t possible
• overwhelm builds faster than the system can process
• expression feels unsafe or futile
• the horse feels stuck with no clear option
• the body protects itself by going inward

It is important to not that It is not chosen. It is not calm. It is not softness and it is not willingness.

It is survival.

Of course, not all stillness is shutdown. Horses can absolutely learn genuine relaxation and self-regulation. They can rest in the herd, soften into touch, settle into co-regulated calm, or focus quietly without distress.

The challenge is that shutdown can look incredibly similar from the outside - which is why understanding the difference matters.

However, shutdown exists on a spectrum and often blends with other states.

Nervous-system states are not separate boxes.
They overlap. They interact. They blend.

A horse can be “mostly shut down” with flashes of sympathetic activation.
A horse can look still on the outside while internally bracing for flight.
A horse can be expressive in the herd yet collapse around pressure or human interaction.
A horse can remain functional until a specific cue or environment matches an old pattern.

Some horses go numb until a threshold is crossed - and then they bolt. Some horses look compliant until confusion or fear spikes - and then fight comes forward. Some horses dip in and out of shutdown depending on context, sensory load, or request.

Shutdown is not a permanent identity. It’s a nervous-system pattern that appears, fades, resurfaces, softens, or intensifies moment by moment.

Braveheart (my horse) is a perfect example:
He can be internally withdrawn and externally still - and then, with the wrong kind of pressure or confusion, he can surge into fight or flight. Both states can exist simultaneously. Both states are adaptive. Both states make sense when you understand his story.

This blended-state behaviour is extremely common - and often mislabeled as “inconsistent”, “moody”, or “unpredictable”.

But the horse is not unpredictable. Their nervous system is responding to perceived safety in real time. Shutdown doesn’t replace other states. It layers with them.

This complexity is why reading behaviour alone never tells the full story- but reading the nervous system does.

Why is shutdown so often misread, let's explore.

Because shutdown presents as the absence of the behaviours people find difficult:

• no spooking
• no resistance
• no opinions
• no visible stress
• no “problems”

And because so many of us were taught - across disciplines, generations, and cultures - to prioritise obedience over expression.

Shutdown often looks like:

“I’m being good.”
“I’m being calm.”
“I’m doing everything you ask.”

And, most misleadingly:

“I’m fine.”
But stillness is not always safety. Sometimes it is conservation.

What Shutdown Gets Mistaken For:

Relaxation
Shutdown produces stillness without fluidity.
Relaxation produces stillness with softness.

Respect or Willingness
A horse who stops offering opinions may simply feel they have no other option.

Submission
Submission can sometimes mask internal overwhelm - learning to tell the difference protects both horse and human.

Training Success
Quiet behaviour is not always evidence of learning. Sometimes it is evidence of coping.

These are the signs that most people overlook:

Shutdown rarely announces itself. Instead, it dissolves expression:

• distant or glassy eyes
• shallow breathing
• delayed responses
• heavy stillness rather than soft stillness
• mechanical or disconnected movement
• limited orientation
• low curiosity
• flat facial expression
• difficulty initiating movement
• a horse who is “too good”
• lack of seeking or question-asking

No single sign confirms shutdown. But patterns, context, and the feel of the horse tell the story.

Where can shutdown lead to?

Shutdown itself is not the enemy - it is a survival strategy. But repeated or prolonged shutdown can contribute to:

• digestive changes
• immune stress
• musculoskeletal bracing
• fascia tension
• pain behaviours
• emotional withdrawal
• difficulty learning

Some horses eventually “explode” when sympathetic energy finally breaks through the collapse. Others never explode at all - they simply retreat further inside.

Both patterns matter. Both impact welfare. Both deserve understanding.

How have we learned to recognise shutdown? Well, not from books. But from many many hours staying present with horses who had learned to go quiet inside.

Over time we realised:

• behaviour is the last thing to change, not the first
• the nervous system always tells the truth
• softness is something you feel, not just something you see
• presence is different from stillness
• a regulated horse is expressive, curious, connected
• a coping horse grows quieter and quieter

Anyone can learn to read these layers. It doesn’t belong to one discipline or method. It belongs to anyone willing to see.

Whether you work Western, English, classical, liberty, bitless, or in-hand - shutdown is relevant because it is not about training.
It is about biology.

Recognising shutdown matters! Because recognising shutdown gives horses their voice back.

When you understand shutdown:

• behaviour becomes communication
• tension becomes information
• stillness becomes something to explore
• partnership becomes possible
• horses become participants in their own experience

If you’re reading this and thinking, “I think I’ve seen this in my horse,” that doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

It means you’re attuned enough to notice - and that awareness is where change begins. Shutdown isn’t the end of the story.
It’s the beginning of a new one.

A story where calm is real, not collapsed. Where connection grows from safety, not silence. Where horses don’t just behave - they return, soften, breathe, engage, and come back to life.

If this opened something in you and you’re wondering how to move forward gently, the HOW - the moment-to-moment process of helping a horse emerge from shutdown - lives in our subscription group.

And when you need guidance crafted specifically for your horse, your history, your nervous systems, Nicola and I offer online sessions where we can hold that space with you.

Borrowed this ! I love how this is explained !! And i hope i have not fallen into this and have always tried to choose wisely !

Pathological Altruism

Sometimes what looks like kindness or selflessness can unintentionally cause harmful outcomes... to our students, our horses, our volunteers, or even ourselves.
Dr. Barbara Oakley calls this pathological altruism:
"Altruism in which attempts to promote the welfare of others instead result in unanticipated harm."
In our world of adaptive/therapeutic riding, this might look like:
• Saying yes to every student because we don't want to turn anyone away.
• Letting policies slide to "be nice," only to find our horses or instructors stretched too thin.
• Keeping a volunteer or student in the same role long after it's time for them to grow.

It's not about abandoning compassion...it's about pairing compassion with clarity, boundaries, and honesty.
It's about being brave enough to take a good honest look at the actual outcomes of our good intentions and see if they are helping or harming.
Kara Stark McGrew

📣📣 Calling All
Adaptive Riding Programs 🐴🎠
Discover a new way to experience the thrill of horse shows!
Our virtual events culminate in a prestigious year-end performance awards program. 🏆
Join our community and stay updated on Facebook!
Website in the comments !!!