Horse-whispering. . .

(It is 5 horses in this picture. Can you see them?)

By Kirsten Nour Namskau

The word horse-whispering is an umbrella-word for the ability to talk with the animals.

Animals talk through signals, body-language, they can hear the sound-wave of the thoughts and the sounds they give is of lower importance if the other part is inside view. If the other part is out of view, then the sound is the signal of its presence and to support its thoughts over distance.
Rule number 1-one in the animal’s world . . . is respect. If one doesn’t show respect, it will in worse cases, be excluded from the pack, herd etc.

You don’t have to believe this . . . it is like this anyway.
But if you want to learn how to talk with the animals . . . then . . . you have to believe the above mentioned.

If you want to “talk” with the animals, you have to learn the rules, signals and body-language of the species you want to “talk” with.
That takes time . . . . You must never make a sudden move when you are in contact with animals.
A sudden, unexpected move in the animal’s world, means . . . fear, danger or anger.

Many years ago, I watched a film at “Discovery Channel” on TV.
A man studied a pack of wolves in Alaska. For three months, he was only observing the pack to learn their communication rules.
One day, he dared to howl as a single wolf searching for company. The pack answered him. . . They communicated for a while when he suddenly discovered that one of the wolves had come up behind him and was watching him. He went down, laid on his side and lifted one leg to make the signal of humble respect.
The man slowly got accepted by the pack of wolves, as one of them, to that extend that they wanted to share the food with him and he slept among them at night.

Many years ago . . . I lived on a small farm with Hamada. Hamada used to call me Hoda.
We had two sheep, two goats, 10 hens and a mole-dog / Mule. (A mix breed between a donkey and a horse.)
Hamada was bricklayer, so he went to work every day. I kept the farm and cultivated vegetables after the bio-dynamic agriculture method.
“Mulle” was my dearest animal . . . it was him which brought me and my vegetables to the marked every Friday.
My vegetables were always the best on the marked, simply because . . . usually the farmers here in Egypt let the vegetables stay in the soil too long. Because of that, all nutrition in the vegetables has gone back to soil, so the vegetables look big but sloppy and discolored.
One day I was as usually in the field to weed the vegetables.
It was a hot day and the flies were incredible insistent. At the end, I gave up waiving them away.
After some hours, I went in to take a shower and start the dinner. As I looked in the mirror, I felt something was not right with my eyes. I drew down the lower lid and discovered a lot of fly-eggs. I got terrified . . . if one doesn’t get out all eggs, they will hatch and you get an eye illness called Trachoma. This can even cause blindness.
I started to rinse and rinse, and used a teaspoon to scoop out all the eggs. At the end I had to stop, but after a few minutes it felt as if I got blind. I couldn’t see.
I run out . . . everything was dark. I called for Mulle in panic. He was grassing in a field cross the vegetable-field.
Suddenly I heard Mulle blow slowly with his nose on distance, (I’m here)
With all the fear I had in my mind and thoughts, I said to Mulle: “Mulle, you have to bring me to the pharmacy down the road. You have to stop under the tree at the blue poster.”
I continued: “I can not see, Mulle. I can not see”
When I used the word “blue” I called on the “colour Sky” in my mind.
Mulle understood my panic. I couldn’t put on him a saddle, so I jumped up on his back and took a grip on his mane.
“Run Mulle, run as fast as you can.” I called to him.
Mulle started to run . . . faster and faster. Suddenly he slowed down and stopped.
I wondered if I had come to right place. If so, it should be a tree here. I went down and searched for the tree. I found it . . . then the stairs up to the pharmacy should be strait ahead approximately 5 steps. I counted 5 steps and searched with my foot for the stairs. I found it. Then it should be 8 steps up . . . I counted . . . 1~2~3~4~5~6~7~8
I called out: “Is this the pharmacy?”
The pharmacist came out and said: “Yes Hoda, it is here but what is wrong with you, Hoda?”
He took my arm and led me in as I told him what had happened.
He examined my eyes and told me that it was no eggs left in the eyes, but I had overdone the cleaning, so the eyes was swollen and I had ruptured blood-vessels. He put something on my eyes to relax them and gave me a chair and told me to rest for 20 minutes.
After 20 minutes, he told me to try to open my eyes. Slowly I opened them . . . and I could see. . . . . It felt like a miracle.
My eyes was still swollen and light blue-bruised, but I could see.
When I came out again, Mulle was still standing under the tree.
I jumped up on Mulle and on our way home, I went into a tailor and bought some tulle (a fabric which look like mosquito-net.) After that day I always used a hat and over the hat I put the tulle and tied the end around my neck, so I looked as if I was working with honey-bees.
But Mulle . . . . in all my panic . . . he understood exactly where I wanted to go . . . . I could not guide him . . . I had to trust him.