A student said to me, “The most important thing is that my horse loves me.” And it made me think some more about just what that means.

If I’m preaching to the choir forgive me. But it’s important to understand how horses’ minds work, how they think. They aren’t dogs. They aren’t people. They’re—surprise— horses! Love as a concept is mysterious enough even between people. It’s all mixed up with the expectation of rewards, with co-dependency, with self esteem, with sharing pursuits, with security and safety and a thousand other things.

My sister once had a pet hermit crab and later an iguana. Without casting aspersions, I’m wagering the love between them was somewhat less deep than you might expect to find between higher mammals.

I (theoretically) love my rabbit. And (if I had one) my ferret. How much they love me is somewhat harder to measure. Are they devoted to the dish which I put in front of them twice a day? Presumably they’re smart enough to figure out who’s dispensing the food. But is that love?

Cats are a whole other inexplicable thing. I don’t know of pigs or crows or dolphins. I do know that I have had dogs who seem to take immense pleasure in my company (I hope not just for material gain, but who knows?) And it’s a mutual pleasure which includes an expectation that we’ll always be there for each other.

If you’re lucky you may find that sort of relationship with a horse. I’d like to believe that I have once, maybe twice. It is glorious because it’s something they award to you. I would venture you can get things from horses that they’re not actually “giving” you. Yes, they do give some things, but in a larger sense they just are. They understand that a hierarchy exists among their kind. You see it in herd behavior all the time. It’s not a democracy. They understand respect. They understand order. They want to know how they fit into the greater scheme of things. And along the way, they may be sweet and kind and nuzzle you. Is that love?

Between horses and people it comes down to a bond, whether born of the struggle for mutual survival or of enough shared and accomplished tasks that you become partners. That’s more than you mellowing out as you sit by their feet in the meadow.

It can only happen in the realm of endeavor. As in the herd there must be a leader. If you want to do dressage, they have to believe that your way is the way it has to be. If you do it right, dressage is cooperative. It’s not dominant. But it has to proceed from an assumption that you are the alpha, and the way you choose is the way it simply must be. Believe me, it’s not unkind to take the lead. In a sense it is more unkind if you don’t.

This thought springs from a conversation with an owner who wants only the best for her horse. I am totally on board with that. But unlike those people I encounter who massively override and force things upon their horse, this person wants more than anything for her horse to be her friend. But since he is a strong-willed stallion, the way he interprets her wishes encourages him to take unreasonable advantage. Does it promote two-way love to facilitate such an unbalanced equation? If so, you had also better rethink your objections to domestic violence.

I may be Old School and without the sensitivities of the Millennials but, bottom line, if you are kind and you are reasonable, your horse won’t mind that you show him how to comfort himself. In fact, he’ll be grateful to understand his job. You’ll have the best chance to establish that special bond of shared purpose. And you’ll really be onto something—you know . . . “It’s only love . . . and that is all.”