I can't imagine dealing with a biter, day in and day out. I want
the ones I can trust to park their nose on my 5 o'clock shadow
and enjoy the scratchiness, or to stick their nostril on my
lips and exchange breaths and thoughts for a couple of minutes.

(That's what 'horse whispering' actually is; horses are telepaths
and communicate with each other this way. If you don't believe me,
watch two horses put their nostrils together and breathe back
and forth just before they gang up on you with a brilliant plan
to get the better of you and make you spill a bucket of grain.
There's nothing unusual or fantastic about it.)

This afternoon, while the two horses were in a stall having finished
their grain and were munching on some hay, it still being 85 degrees
out, I was filling the water troughs out in the field. The stall door
was open to the field. I called the name of the 5-year-old Rocky
Mountain Horse who's just starting his training, but who seems to
like me for some silly reason.

He stopped eating, trotted outside in the heat and flies, came up to me and seemed to say 'So, whaddya need me to do, boss?'

Made my day.