Today, I was riding my friend's horse, a big, old-as-dirt palomino Quarter with a snarky, I-don't-care way around people. I saddled the guy up and took him to the obstacle course. I didn't know if he had ever been through it before, so I went slow and easy. He didn't bat an eye at any of the obstacles until I came to the "wash rack", which is a maze of logs which you must weave through backwards. So I started him backing up.
We went back about four steps and started into a 90 degree turn. I pulled the rein left and tapped him with my heel. He froze immediately, turned his head to look at me, and stared at me with almost squinted eyes, asking as clear as a horse can ask, "What the hell are you doing?"
A few weeks back, I was also "spoken to" by another horse, a Walker named Missy, whom I had always imagined as being the equine version of an overly strict grandmother. She had been here, there, and everywhere, and took great pleasure in that nothing ever caught her off guard.
I was riding her around, just messin', when I decided to see how she would do handle the "octopus curtain", which is line of pool noodles hung on a string between two trees, forming a curtain.
I got off and let her look at it first. She turned to me, confused, like old lady listening to rap music for the first time. I wiggled the noodles around and held one up to her nose to smell. She then stared at me, her mind absolutely blown. "You want me to eat life saver tree?!"