Anthropomorphism - our tendency to assign human characteristics to non-human animals isn’t inherently a mistake. Often it’s the bridge that allows us to care. But it’s layered: there’s empathy and intuition for our fellow mammals and then there’s supplanting our identity onto them to serve ourselves.

That’s the tension we navigate in our work. The question isn’t whether we anthropomorphize, but when it helps and when it gets in the way.

The language we use to refer to our horses sets the tone for how we relate to them. Too often they are spoken of as objects: it. Or infantilized as ‘my boy’ or ‘my girl’. Relationships are framed in transactional terms like buyer, owner, or rescuer. But what if your words reflected the deeper truth of your bond?

This piece is a reflection of Say What You Mean and is an English translation of the original Spanish commentary. This reflection does not equate the experiences of enslaved people with those of horses. Rather, it questions how language and expectations reveal a shared pattern: treating living beings, human or non-human as objects meant solely for use.

I love this question because it touches on the profound nature of our relationships with equines. Writing a response required introspection and a willingness to confront some uncomfortable truths about how humans have historically interacted with and “loved” horses. Concepts like love, connection, and trust are particularly hard to define—especially when applied to nonhuman animals. Rather than attempt to pin down a single definition, we’ll explore how horses may express these qualities in their own unique ways.

There is little definitive knowledge about how horses in the wild or those living freely experience the illness and death of a companion. Anecdotal accounts vary widely. Some horses refuse to leave the side of a struggling friend; others linger near a body that has already grown still. Some stand guard in quiet solidarity, while others seem to recognize the inevitable and accept it without hesitation.