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Happy October! What equine related paranormal/unexplainable stories does everyone have?

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    Happy October! What equine related paranormal/unexplainable stories does everyone have?

    I'm bored and curious to see what stories everyone has to share (if any at all). I've seen this posted in other forums, but never here, so I thought I'd start this.

    I don't really have much of anything except a small story. I was grooming a young racehorse (he was 3 years old at the time, I believe). This isn't a spooky horse, he was usually sweet and quiet. When I was grooming him he was standing rock solid with his head down and eyes half closed, I didn't even have to tie him! Out of nowhere I heard foot steps up in the hay loft (this wasn't at the track. He was at a private barn for a layover between race meets). It sounded like slow foot steps by someone on the smaller side. His head shot up and he became restless and spooked. I asked who was in the hay loft later (as whoever/whatever it was was spooking the horses). I got looked at quizzically and told no one was up there or had been up there all day.

    Not really paranormal but my childhood horse that I had since I was 10 coliced horribly the day before I found out I was pregnant. He was PTS. It really just felt like that chapter of my life was over and I was able to move on. I just kinda *knew*

    I had moved several states away and wasn’t able to take him with me. He was a horrible keeper, horrible in the trailer and the winters here probably would of done him in. My mom was very nice and retired him for the 2 years. He honestly looked like he was mid 30s with his swayback, grey hairs, and skinny appearance.


      I’ve gone out in the morning to find horses in the wrong stalls or paddocks. Could have been the ghosts... or wine. 🤷‍♀️ Happy Fall y’all!


        I have one!

        Many moons ago I exercised foxhunters for a private barn. The farm had extensive trail access that we rode out on to keep the horses fit. There was a good trail head up on the hill by my apartment that I found walking my dog. When I asked why we never went that way, I was told the horses all freaked out uncontrollably and the trail was avoided at all costs even though it was the best route to the gallop track. In my naivety, I attempted to hack out the one of the best horses that way. Bad plan. Horse tensed up when I pointed him at the old, empty barn that stood near the trail head. Now this horse was a retired international event horse with several years of good hunting experience an was a good egg sort and he flat out refused to go anywhere near the old barn or that trail head.

        For an unrelated issue, an animal communicator was hired. This person reported that the horses were nervous about the ghosts up on the hill.

        Further investigation of the farm history revealed that the old barn had housed stallions kept in less than ideal circumstances and that the stallions were buried near there.


          Right out of college, I worked for a racing barn. That's relevant because it means my day started at dark o'clock. I had to be at work at 4:30 am and it was a 25 minute drive from my apartment.

          Along my commute, I passed the farm of a prominent equine veterinary in the area. He practiced from his farm, but also bred and boarded horses there. I was driving past his farm in the moonlight when a horse galloped across the road directly in front of my car, almost colliding with me. I slammed on my brakes, narrowly missing it, then pulled off the road and jumped out to go catch it. Yet there was no horse to be found. There were also no signs of a loose horse like hoof prints or broken fences. But I swear to you I saw it vividly! There was no mistaking it. I saw it clearly enough I could have identified markings and picked it up out of a line up.

          Later that morning, I called the vet to ask if he had a horse get loose overnight. Nope.
          Don't fall for a girl who fell for a horse just to be number two in her world... ~EFO


            A group of friends and I used to do "moonlight" trail rides. At first we'd ride out when the moon was full or nearly full, but eventually we had so much fun riding late at night in the pitch dark, we'd just go out whenever. Our horses really enjoyed it, and they knew the (very flat, very wide) trails even better than we did, so on more than one night, while completely lost in the pitch dark woods, we just dropped the reins and let them walk us home. They got to be very seasoned at it. Nothing spooked them. We rode on only one road and it was a dead end through a locked gate into the forest, with no houses on the stretch where we rode. A little ways down the road, a hanging tree marked the start of the forest on our left and open farm fields lay to our right. Where I'm from, a hanging tree is any massive, old tree with branches of a certain height and width to be good for doing dark deeds. We called it the Sleepy Hollow tree because there was something about its bare winter branches against the sky that just gave you a feeling it had in fact been used for those dark deeds. Even in summer, when it was green and bushy, it just never looked friendly. One night just the two of us went out. Moonless night. Fall in the air. Probably ten or eleven o'clock, lights going off in the houses at the other end of the road.

            That night we were riding along in the dark, chatting, when the horses began to spook and stop, ears pricked, bodies quivering, staring. Again, these horses had ridden this trail weekly if not nightly for months. They knew it backwards and forwards and never blinked. My friend kicked on but I was getting a bit of a bad feeling and slowed up, steering my horse away from the spot where the forest started at the base of the Sleepy Hollow tree. That was definitely what she was spooking at. Then, out of nowhere, absolutely nothing shot out of the shadows of the tree. Not a shape, not a creature. Just noise, something rushing in at our horses' hooves, growling and grumbling. Let me be clear, it was dark. It was not that dark. I could see the patched spots in the asphalt where it was a little darker in some areas. I could make out every inch of my friend's horse ahead. I could not see what was rushing us. Our horses couldn't find it either. They spun this way and that and the whole time the noise was right there at our feet. Both horses finally spun and took off down a dirt road leading into the farm fields. Not going to lie, I didn't even try to stop my horse, I just wanted to be away from whatever it was. We ran maybe a hundred yards down the lane, but the sound didn't follow us off the road. The horses let us stop them and we waited around, deliberating. There were multiple ditches between us and the way home if we tried to cut through the fields and I wasn't keen on testing our luck at getting our horses safely through them. This was before the days of phones having flashlights and in hindsight, wouldn't a flashlight have been a smart thing to bring along in case of an emergency/demon from the great beyond? With no other options we crept back to the road. Our horses looked up and down the road, heaved a sigh of relief and turned to take us to the trail, glad to move past it. I was not and I immediately voted to go home, because I did not want to go trail riding in the dark for an hour, only to try to come home by the road and find ourselves blocked by something we couldn't see.

            We never met it again. To this day I have no idea what it was. If I'd caught a glimpse of a shape, a shadow, a movement, it would be one thing, but it was the absence of anything that really bugged me. You could hear it. You could hear it come onto the road at you. You could track the direction it came from. You could hear it bristling its way up to you. You just could not see it. I still think about that one. I miss those moonlight trails. I do not miss whatever that thing was.

            Probably some pissy mammal we disturbed, right? To this day my friend and I still call it "the demon," and it'll stay that for us.


              I've got nothing...but love these stories and you are giving me goosebumps!
              Humans dont mind duress, in fact they thrive on it. What they mind is not feeling necessary. Sebastian Junger


                This is probably not paranormal, but how does my mini know when I am looking at him on the security camera? He will walk over to the side of the stall it is aimed at and look RIGHT UP INTO the camera and stare back at me. Who's spying on who ? I could get paranoid.


                  i was told this story by a local trainer I used to know. When she was young (elementary school age) she and all her friends would go trail riding and they always went the same way. On their way out one day they saw a man sitting by the bottom of a very large tree. Not far away, but close enough that they could kind of see him and he could hear them. They waved at him and called out hi to him but he didn't answer. On the way back he was still there and they called out to him again. Next day, same thing. Following day, same thing. They thought nothing of it, just that maybe he came out every day at same time and that was where he took a break. Fourth day, fifth day, sixth day - guy is still there. Now they were puzzled but just thought he was not interested in responding. Day 7 one of the girls tells her father about this weird guy they've seen and he gets very interested and asked her to take him to where they had seen him. Two of the other fathers went along. They arrive at scene, girl goes "See, he's still there!" They went over to check. He was dead. Had apparently tried to hang himself but wound up strangling to death. She told me that ever after the horses always acted spooky or shied when they went thru there.

                  Happy Hallowe'en, y'all.
                  "Cats aren't clean; they're covered with cat spit."
                  - John S Nichols (1745-1846,writer/printer)

                  Don't come for me - I didn't send for you.


                    I'm not sure this is paranormal, but it is definitely in the category of horror and probably something evil. And sadly, it is an experience I wish I could vanquish from my memory almost 50 years later.

                    I grew up in the 1960s in a small town that was transforming from large estates to neighborhoods. We were in a new neighborhood with one small farm nearby, and some neighbors down the road who were extremely religious and very odd. Their house was filled with religious icons and their stair railing was some kind of forged religious symbol. When two of their children died at their home, there was no investigation or follow up into the deaths. When the second child died after being run over by a car in their driveway, my Mom and her best friend went to the house to offer casseroles and their condolences. The mother scoffed at them and sneered at them, calling them 'the neighborhood condolence society' before telling them she didn't need their sympathy because she made an angel. I was the same age as their daughter, Susan.

                    When I was six, my best friend, Katie, and I were playing hide and seek at Susan's house. They had a low grotto in the yard where a stream ran through, with a statue of Virgin Mary inside an upended bath tub. It looked like the perfect hiding place, so while Susan was counting, I flew down the hill to hide behind the bathtub. When I got to the bath tub, I was stopped in my tracks by a sight that is still horribly emblazoned in my memory. In front of the Mary statue, placed neatly on the ground, was the severed head of a foal. I can still see its soft brown fur and the stark contrast of the pink tongue and the colors of the veins. I must have screamed because suddenly Susan's Dad was there and I was whisked away.

                    I never went to Susan's house again, and nobody followed up on the mystery of where the foal's head came from. If that happened to one of my kids, I'd have freaked out and followed up, but back then, nobody thought about the effects of trauma on a child. To this day, though, I believe the oddball mother put that poor little foal's head there as an offering of some kind, and I believe there was some evil in that household. I also think that event is why I spent so many years rescuing horses when I grew up, so maybe there was some good that came from it, but wow. My own personal horror story.


                      There was an animal communicator at Equine Affaire in Mass. a number of years ago. I was skeptical after watching one at out barn, but my friend wanted to go. After some introductory remarks I handed a picture of my horse to a couple from Rhode Island. I had one from a different owner, an eventer I think. We were supposed to really zone in on the photo for something like 10-15 minutes. I told the owners of the photo I had that the horse really enjoyed his work. The couple told me they saw red close to my horse. I happened to be using a bright red saddle pad. They said he didn't think his barn name, Speckles, was dignified. He also said he didn't have any friends, which makes sense because he was the alpha. He is 26 now and has delegated some of the herd management tasks to another horse. The established group still functions in the old order. They all know what to do, like getting off the round bale until he picks his spot. Then they fill back in. He is wary of new horses but the old guard keeps an eye on things. There is a second smaller group. The old guard cuts the new group off they head in his direction. He has a buddy, first time ever, a big roan mustang. The entire process has been fascinating to watch. The red saddle pad is retired, He answers to anyone who calls his name - the bald face pops up. And finally he has a buddy.
                      "With hardly any other living being can a human connect as closely over so many years as a rider can with her horse." Isabell Werth, Four Legs Move My Soul. 2019


                        For several weeks after my first horse was euthanized several times I saw him in the pasture out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes there was nothing there when I looked straight at him. Sometimes another horse was standing there. An easy mistake to make you might say, but the most memorable occasion I saw my 15.3h bright chestnut it was my friend's 14.2h white horse standing there looking at me.


                          Not as weird as some of these, but at my previous barn, the only trail riding available was through plantation forestry. Rows of sitka spruce (very not native to Scotland) packed in like corn rows, and eventually the trees are knocked down and harvested for wood products. It's a big industry and plantations are everywhere. It does not do anything good for native flora and fauna, but that's a digression.

                          Anyway, this particular bit of forestry was near towns and farms, and people used it to fly-tip everything from old sofas to burnt-out cars. Teens would drink there. Drunk adults would wander around shooting rabbits with air rifles. It had an odd vibe to it. And my horse, an old hat trail horse who's seen trails in Colorado, Massachusetts, and assorted places in the UK, hated it. She was never comfortable, not in the eight years we were at this barn. She was on her toes, spooky, would hesitate and require a lot of leg to go in, and require a lot of rein and seat to stop her from flying out. When I finally got out of there and moved to a new barn with better trails, she resumed being a chilled, relaxed trail horse. I will always wonder why she took such offense at that forestry, but on the other hand, it always seemed like the perfect place to hide a body.
                          Help me keep my horse in peppermints and enjoy a great read! My New York City crime novel, available on Amazon.


                            Years ago I had an old TWH called Doc. When I moved home to the midwest he stayed at my friend's place in KY, where he lived out his last years to the age of 29 in a lovely pasture with her 2 mares. My friend always called him the Zen Master because of his calming and wise demeanor. Three years after he passed away I had to retire my riding horse and elected to get another off-track STB. I picked New Horse up from a placement agency in Ohio then went to my friend's place in KY to overnight before heading home. Just before going to bed I headed out to do a final night check on New Horse. Halfway to the barn I heard words in my head - not a voice in my ears as much as a very clear message in my head, saying "Things will be alright. It will work out." I stopped in my tracks and looked towards the pasture Doc had lived in. Somehow I knew it was him. As things turned out, his message was quite prophetic. New Horse and I did not click - at all - for over a year. I even contemplated returning him to the agency, but I kept thinking of Doc's message and eventually New Horse & I reached an accord. He's a good worker, go anywhere, do anything horse. I'm not gonna lie: we're not "soul mates" but things have turned out alright, just as old Doc told me they would.


                              I have been to 2 different boarding facilities both had "areas" that the horses would not go. My TB loved trails and especially loved exploring new trails. If I got lost I could just give him his head and he would figure it out. At one boarding facility there was a very nice wooded area that I thought would be great. My horse bulked and refused to go. When I asked about it I was told none of the horses like that area. Never found out why.
                              The other Boarding facility had a treeline you could ride along. Once you got past the trees there was an open field Every horse spooked at that corner. Once past it they were fine. Again never figured out why.


                                The barn where I used to ride is an old slave plantation (much like almost every farm property in the south... luckily they DID change their name to take the word plantation out of the title, lmao) and they actually still have ruins of the old buildings in a couple of the pastures. There's also supposedly an unmarked slave graveyard somewhere on the property, I don't personally know where it is but there was always one spot where even the non spooky horses would spook every. single. time. I never felt really negative vibes there though, just kind of like ~otherwordly~. I did feel negative vibes from the coyotes doing their super scary cries out in the woods when I'd be there by myself at night though!!!! Literally no sound is more bone chilling!!!!!


                                  This seemed paranormal ...
                                  At one barn, every horse would cut one corner of the indoor arena, from naughty ponies to seen-everything school horses.
                                  Nope, when all the footing was removed and replaced, it was discovered there was a deep hole, size and shape of a 50 gallon drum, filled in with gravel and stones. Horses could feel a difference.


                                    Many years ago I was an admin type at a major west coast public university. Very, very cold October (not yet Halloween and no moon to speak of) and I had been working late. There was (still is) a pioneer cemetery on the south border of that campus and I'd parked on the last south lot just beyond so it was a bit of a stroll. When I say it was cold - it was so cold that sounds carried with ringing clarity. I heard, very distinctly, two sets of hoofbeats -- one set shod and the other not. Also the distinct sound a loose curb chain makes when encountering a bit....and as well the deep murmur of a masculine voice, words indistinguishable, followed by a flirtatious laugh from "his" companion. Still wonder to this day....
                                    Surrealism: once an art form. Now indistinguishable from daily life. (Forgot who said that.)


                                      Originally posted by cayuse View Post
                                      This is probably not paranormal, but how does my mini know when I am looking at him on the security camera? He will walk over to the side of the stall it is aimed at and look RIGHT UP INTO the camera and stare back at me. Who's spying on who ? I could get paranoid.
                                      Because they are the masters of the universe.


                                        Original Poster

                                        Originally posted by Bogey2 View Post
                                        I've got nothing...but love these stories and you are giving me goosebumps!
                                        Oh truth. I've seen these types of threads blow up in other social medias, so I thought I'd see what goodies some COTHers had!