The Horse Eye

It is disconcerting, your horse eye. Someone took a picture of it, thought it would be a nice piece of art. I’ve done that before, tried to capture a horse profile, tried to single out the bulbous globular protrusion. I’ve often thought that if a grand photographer captured a horse eye through a macro lens, you’d see the clouds of distrust swirling. Horses, like people, don’t like to be crept up on.

No one likes their blind spots memorialized.

I learned this lesson once by watching Miles, the shepherd schnauzer. He ran headlong into the field leading an imaginary canine cavalry against the stalwart horse throngs. The horses stood tall, unafraid and only slightly annoyed. Miles crouched, jumped, threw his chest out, and yipped. Horses don’t mind a yip or two I suppose, but when Miles moved to the blind spot, the one-eyed profile side, the Horse became agitated and caught Miles with a glancing right rear hoof. He didn’t aim to hurt Miles, just warn him.

Stay where I can see you with both eyes.

Last week, I dug The Sun out of the mailbox and was greeted by that wary right eye. From the mailbox to the front door that horse sized me up, made me feel uncomfortable. Were it not for the absurdity of it all, I might have ripped that cover off and left it in the bin where it could have stared down its to-be-recycled magazine cousins, or better yet, rotting banana peels. Somehow that seemed disrespectful.

A staring eye can make you feel that way.

Amber took the magazine, promptly placed it the thinker’s spot. And I think that’d be all fine and good were it not staring at me every time I tend to my business.

Stop looking at me horse. I know what you’re thinking.

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7 Responses to The Horse Eye

  1. i think you’re right about those clouds of distrust.
    when a real horse looks at you that way, you certainly don’t stay a while.

  2. It puts me in mind of an old hymn and one of my favorite lines within:

    “He speaks to me everywhere . . . ”

    Even, it seems, through a photo of just an equine eye.

  3. We’re just like that horse, humans don’t like to be crept up on, either. The picture made me laugh. Thanks.

    • sethhaines says:

      Oh man, do I HATE being crept up on! Except…

      Every morning Jude wakes up and creeps out of his bed room. We have this game. I pretend not to see him and he pretends to be as quiet as a Mohican. I wait until he gets about 6 feet away from my reading spot and then I jerk like I’m scared (or suddenly awake).

      I like that kind of creep’n I suppose.

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