Lukas Plays Around - Games From the World's Smartest Horse

Following Lukas' second bout of impaction colic (due to dehydration), I became nervous about his water intake. As strong and powerful as they look, horses' digestive systems are surprisingly delicate. Unlike cattle who have several stomachs, horses have only one small stomach that functions best if never quite full and continually lubricated. Horses are unable to vomit because of a one-way valve between the esophagus and stomach, and they need a minimum of 5 - 10 gallons of water per day. Most horses will lick a salt block which then activates their thirst mechanism and things go smoothly. In Lukas' case, however, he completely ignored any type of additive blocks or electrolytes, so I used loose salt mixed in with his evening mash. I also wondered if I could teach him to drink water. Could an automatic, reflexive behavior be put on cue?

So began the water test. "Lukas, drink your water now," I stated and pointed to the bucket. Incredulous, Lukas looked at me and then stared at his water. As if to placate me, he lightly grazed his lips over the water's surface. "That's right, now drink it, buddy," I told him. Lukas responded by dunking his lips into the bucket and coming up dripping. "Stay there and swallow, Lukas," I directed. Once again, he dipped his lips and held them still in the water while glancing up at me. Amazed, I busted out laughing, I could tell he was pretending to drink because his throat muscles hadn't moved and no slurpy sounds were coming from his mouth. "That's not drinking, Lukas," I playfully scolded him. By now, he had enough; he dropped his mouth deeply into the bucket, sloshed it against the side and thoroughly drenched me. We continue to use this game for summer fun. I did increase his loose salt though to be certain he drank enough water.

Here's yet another deceptive ploy of his. Every night I cut up Lukas' carrots for the next day, taking them out of the refrigerator so they'll be room temperature and chopping them into little pieces. I may have gotten carried away with the small size on one occasion. The next day as we were practicing the yawn, I popped a carrot piece into his open mouth as a reward for his effort. Lukas' head dropped, his mouth shut and he eyed me woefully. Had he dropped it accidentally? I checked the ground and didn't see anything. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I offered him another... only to see the previous carrot sliver resting on his tongue! Now, whenever he thinks the carrot piece is too small, he insists on a second helping. When had he become so creative?

Play seems to be an absolute necessity for Lukas. Theories abound regarding the role of play behavior in animals. Many scientists regard play as an encoded programmed activity of youth. Prey animals practice dodging and darting to avoid being eaten, and predators improve their abilities to catch and kill their meals. Lukas is as playful now at age 18 as he was at half his age. His manner of playing though has evolved to a different level. Years ago, he was intent on only running fast. The wind in his face was enough to give him pleasure.

As his thinking developed and his understanding improved, games interested him more and more. Evaluating, assessing and solving became his new preoccupation. Solo liberty play turned into flamboyant twists and turns, hops and jumps, as if choreographing an elaborate dance. Fast and furious were replaced with fancy - all done right in front of me, of course. At the finale of every performance, he finishes with a towering rear as if to proclaim, "I'm the man - it is ME that Karen belongs to!" As I clap in enthusiastic approval, Lukas poses in pride. Mental games are his ultimate preference. As I set up his desk, he emits a low rumbling sound "huhuhuhuhu". While I choose the game, Lukas repeatedly touches his tabletop as if to say, "Put it here, right here, let's go."

Thoroughbreds are a breed of extremes. Their energy and spirit set them apart from all other types of horses. Bred for centuries for speed and heart, they developed in the 1600's to become the supreme athlete. Their raw power enables them to excel in all levels of competition including the Olympics. Clocked at over 40 miles per hour, they're frequently used to improve other breeds worldwide. The Thoroughbred registry is the only one that requires live cover (no artificial insemination) exclusively to prove foal bloodlines. In my opinion, this gives them an added edge - something special related to an actual event between two creatures. That Lukas is so attached to his desk and focusing on his tasks is probably the most astounding surprise to most people, yet this shows his devotion and loyalty like nothing else could.

Copyright 2012 Karen Murdock is a retired psychiatric nurse, who has been fixing problem horses for over 30 years. Owner of PlayingWithLukas.com. She uses a combination of shaping techniques, a specialized version of clicker training and positive reinforcement. Her unique approach uses games and play as a way to connect and bond with horses to develop confidence, increase focus, improve performance as well as build willingness and trust. All of her services and proceeds go to benefit the horses.

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Lukas Voices His Opinion - World's Smartest Horse and Touching

Touching is an essential part of our day together. In the wild, horses live in herds and stay close to each other for survival. Very social creatures, they tend to pick certain friends and engage in mutual grooming and games with them. Often forming life-long attachments, they've been known to recognize childhood friends after over twenty years of separation.

From the moment of Lukas' first greeting kiss, we're in almost constant contact. I pick something up, Lukas nuzzles my shoulder. I turn and his face grazes my cheek. I bend over and he pulls on the back of my shirt or rests his chin on my head. It's a comical show - like having a messy and disorderly shadow. No sooner do I put something down, Lukas is handing me another towel. Trying to sweep includes pushing his nose out of the dust pan. Cleaning his water bowl requires that I sprinkle his muzzle as well to spiff it up. Even brushing him and applying fly spray is an intimate encounter for Lukas. "Over here, this way, higher up," he seems to say while supervising my every move - nudging me in the correct directions and rubbing any parts of me he can reach to reciprocate my efforts.

Horse's eyes are the largest of any land mammal and are placed laterally on their heads for better range. Their view reaches even slightly behind them - close to 350 degrees in order to monitor their surroundings and detect predators. Lukas' eyes have a startling appearance and are what many people notice first and tend to remember. Most horses have a brown pupil rimmed with a light shade of gray - dark and plain, without much variation. Lukas' eyes have a glowing amber hue with striking intensity - flecks of gold and onyx give them depth and complexity. It's often said that horses don't like to be looked at straight in the eye - in nature direct eye contact tends to be interpreted as a threat. Lukas is most certainly an exception to this. He will contort himself in the funniest positions or pop up out of nowhere so I have no choice but to stare deeply into his mesmerizing gaze. "Look here, Karen, aren't I fascinating? What about now - isn't the light spectacular from this angle?" He's only satisfied when I assure him, that yes indeed, he does have impressive peepers. I've also come to realize that this is a way for him to connect with me - a comforting ritual that soothes him. In the wild, horses rely on each other for their well-being. Acceptance and belonging to a group is an instinctive and crucial element for daily survival. Any rejection is viewed as a very upsetting occurrence. This could jeopardize their position in the herd and make them vulnerable to being ostracized, a most certain doom.

Most often, our locked eyes are accompanied by low murmurs of adoration and feather-light touches by me. Thoroughbreds are notoriously thin-skinned - part of their sensitive nature. Out grazing, Lukas will fidget and squirm while I examine every inch of him until I find the offending speck - a tiny leaf on his back or a minuscule twig touching his legs. This has resulted in some peculiar penchants of his, for example: no running water sprayed on him, period. The ticklish drips drive him crazy and his tail swishes and flicks in outraged annoyance. Instead, I gently wipe him with a damp towel to remove sweat or to cool him off on scorching days. Any scratching is to be avoided at all costs - the grating is too much for his tender nerves and he literally sinks to avoid it from uneducated visitors. Brushing is to take place with light strokes, and his forelock and tail are hand groomed to avoid painful pulling of tangles. His long mane is also only touched by my hands, and he gracefully lowers his neck while I run my fingers through the long strands and re-braid the sections to prevent knots.

Lukas allows clipping and will stand quietly for all procedures (done by me) without using any type of equipment or restraint. As long as I explain prior to the event and show him what I have in my hand, he's accepting of what I do as if he understands that it's for his own good. In the early years, I made the mistake of surprising him with a tube of de-wormer. I plucked it out of a back pocket, stuck it into his mouth without an explanation and plunged the contents past his teeth. His expression of indignant violation was obvious - he spent the next half hour making gagging noises and avoiding me in a sulk. Since then, even Lukas' vet carefully describes the purpose of visits and patiently waits for his sigh of tolerant resignation before proceeding. Not long ago, an on-call vet stopped by to vaccinate Lukas - a routine annual nasal administration. Things got off to a bad start when the vet entered Lukas' stall without an introduction and proceeded to reach for his halter. Wide-eyed, Lukas pulled back and needless to say, the vet left without Lukas' cooperation. So embarrassing! "I thought he was the world's smartest horse," the vet snapped in irritation. Apparently, he's also the world's most opinionated equine as well.

Copyright 2012 Karen Murdock is a retired psychiatric nurse, who has been fixing problem horses for over 30 years. Owner of PlayingWithLukas.com. She uses a combination of shaping techniques, a specialized version of clicker training and positive reinforcement. Her unique approach uses games and play as a way to connect and bond with horses to develop confidence, increase focus, improve performance as well as build willingness and trust. All of her services and proceeds go to benefit the horses.

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The Seasons - According to Lukas, World's Smartest Horse

I'd give up a week's worth of carrots to have a pair of hands right now. Just to scratch that spot on my back that's been driving me crazy for the last 4 hours. The seasons mean more to us horses than bright scarves, new windshield wipers, the dreaded swimsuit ordeal and turning the clocks this way and that. As the days get shorter and cooler, our internal switch flips and things start to change inside us. Our coats become thicker and darker - no longer the sleek, flat look of summer and we look bundled up in our own hair. As a California horse and a Thoroughbred, I am spared a wooly mammoth likeness, however it is still an itchy and annoying mess come springtime.

Karen, my owner, does her best to help with the shedding - a pumice to pull and scrape the old clumps of fuzz away from my skin, a soft brush to rid me of its prickly presence, and smoothing with my terry towel to regain the plush shine. I often wish people knew about the importance of the seasons and how our lives mimic nature. The exuberant romping in fields during the high-spirited spring of youth, excitement and newness around every tree that is typical for this time of birth. While summer resembles the bursting exhilaration of adulthood, families and careers - relishing the seemingly infinite abundance. As fall enters our lives, we reflect and ripen - perspective and contemplation take precedence. Winter brings an individual acceptance and realization that our significance is dependent on the fulfillment of our personal destiny's duty. Not some vague general "meaning of life" concept removed from reality, but a private culmination of countless small daily choices that produces the worth of our lives.

To distract myself from the incessant desire to scratch myself, I hang my whiskered chin over the stall door to watch the world. I take in the fervent activity around me - plump squirrels with stuffed cheeks, bumblebees intently rushing from one spot to another, butterflies and hummingbirds heralding the arrival of yet another blooming bush, and buds that whisper, "Soon, Lukas, very soon, things will change again." Unbelievably another birthday has come and gone. All Thoroughbreds become a year older on January 1st - to keep the age groups easily defined for race conditions, though Karen waits for my actual birthday, January 17th, to celebrate with carrot cake. I try very hard not to think about birthdays and what they mean.

The property where I now live is bordered with magnificent towering trees. Not just any kind of trees, Karen tells me, but her favorite, pine trees. It reminds her, she tells me, of a faraway place where she grew up. And almost before I can see it come and go, a look crosses her face that makes me want to cry. According to scientists, the only land mammal that sheds "real tears" are elephants; the poor things have it rough, I've heard. Dolphins and crocodiles are also given this distinction for water mammals by some accounts. "Tear duct cleansing" is what they call what horses do - deeming us not capable of the big five: anger, fear, worry, grief and joy. These are too complex for such simple creatures, it is claimed. Yet, new research shows that fish and even plants experience these to some degree. Aah, the folly of egotistical scientific theories. The only thing that stops me from bawling is Karen. She smiles at me, like she always does, and asks me if I want to go for a walk.

Walking with Karen - this is what I live for. Everything about it still thrills me. And so begins our special game, so touching and familiar it's almost embarrassing to give the details here. Karen carefully buckles my halter so it doesn't pinch my skin - the leather so supple and well-fitting. "Oh, how handsome you are!" Karen never fails to exclaim as I nod in agreement so I can hear her laugh. A kiss completes the ritual and I feel like a fresh colt again. The first step into the sunshine when I take a huge breath that reaches down to my hooves - even the air is better out here! - celebrates the exploits awaiting us. This trip leads us along the path under the pine trees - a lacy canopy of branches above us and cushiony needles under our feet that make muffled crackling noises as we amble along. Pungent aromas from decades of decomposing layers mingle with the fragrant scent of wild honeysuckle patches climbing on the ancient winding fence. Lost in our thoughts yet still linked together, our steps fall into a matching rhythm and even our breathing follows a similar pattern. Out here on the trail with the breeze to soothe us and the birds serenading lyrically, there is nothing between us and we are recharged once again.

Four hawks nest in these trees and they float high above us scanning the fields for meals while calling for each other like children searching for their playmates. If you believe in legends (as all horses do), hawks symbolize strength and vision, and according to Native American lore they represent interconnectedness and reverence for life. Occasionally, we are treated to a fabulous aerial display of sensational swoops and seemingly motionless hovering - straight up and down with dizzying speed, sometimes so close their wings appear to touch and other times in a symmetrical loop balanced to a feather. Often, we notice that their flight has less to do with looking for food than the absolute pure joy of soaring together. When Karen and I are very still, completely absorbed with the spectacular scene, time melts away and we can glimpse into blissful eternity.

It was during one of these magical outings that I finally understood birthdays and what they mean. Karen's love for me has given me a way to see and understand many things, and in the process, I also became more aware of feelings and developed a broader range of emotions and experiences than is typical for most horses. While this deepened bond will no doubt cause much pain upon parting, what will make it easier to bear is the precious closeness we now share and hold dear. Had it not been for our miraculous convergence and unusual combination, birthdays would only mean the passage of time rather than treasuring each and every moment together. The honor and gift of real tears comes from the depths of true love.

Copyright 2012 Karen Murdock is a retired psychiatric nurse, who has been fixing problem horses for over 30 years. Owner of PlayingWithLukas.com. She uses a combination of shaping techniques, a specialized version of clicker training and positive reinforcement. Her unique approach uses games and play as a way to connect and bond with horses to develop confidence, increase focus, improve performance as well as build willingness and trust. All of her services and proceeds go to benefit the horses.

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