Attachment Trauma and Repair
Tigger, our little Miniature Shetland, is an incredibly sensitive soul. I truly believe that some of this sensitivity stems from early attachment trauma. One of the greatest challenges for Tigger is when the local hunt comes near. The mere presence of the hunt fills him with agitation, restlessness, and a heightened sense of alertness—he becomes hypervigilant, and his stress is so intense that he often defecates repeatedly. Even though the hunt kindly informs us in advance and we give Tigger a calming supplement, and even though they avoid coming close to our field, the distant sounds alone are enough to deeply unsettle him.
When this happens, Tigger withdraws from the herd, isolating himself as a vigilant lookout. His body language speaks volumes: wide, anxious eyes, head held high, ears pricked forward, every muscle tense as he scans for danger. He stops eating, consumed by the need to keep watch. In contrast, the other four horses, though aware of the hunt, manage to stay together, grazing and only occasionally glancing up. But Tigger stands apart, up by the fence, choosing the spot with the widest view, alone in his vigilance.
During one session, I asked my client how they felt witnessing Tigger’s distress. They admitted it was hard to watch—it simply didn’t feel right. Together, we explored ways to support Tigger. My client suggested creating distance between him and the hunt by taking him for a walk down the lane. Tigger agreed, following us willingly. Though he still carried a lot of nervous energy, the movement seemed to help him release some of it. Throughout, my client and I stayed mindful of our own emotional states, offering Tigger the gift of co-regulation—being calm and present so he could draw on our steadiness.
As we walked, a neighbor started up a ride-on lawn mower. Tigger immediately turned, needing to see the source of this new, loud noise. He made it clear, through his body language, that he needed to investigate, so we followed his lead. With so much already weighing on his nervous system, it was important to let Tigger do what he needed to feel safe. When we reached the neighbor, she kindly paused her mower, understanding Tigger’s need for reassurance. Still, he wasn’t fully comforted and asked to return to the yard, which we did, always mindful of his heightened arousal and using our own calm as a container for his experience.
Back at the yard, Tigger immediately resumed his lookout, scanning, listening, and watching. When the hunt drew closer, the barking hounds and shouting men—unseen but unmistakable—sent Tigger running in distress, desperately searching for escape. Witnessing this, my client connected deeply, recalling a difficult personal memory that resonated with Tigger’s experience.
We reflected on how Tigger, in his moments of greatest stress, doesn’t seek comfort from the herd. Instead, he faces his fears alone. Found as a foal without his mother and rescued by Mini Munchkins Shetland Rescue, Tigger’s earliest bonds were broken. Alone, he learned to manage threats by himself. Is this why, in times of extreme stress, he separates from the herd? Is it a familiar pattern from his earliest days? Does he struggle to turn to others for support? My client decided that the best way to help Tigger was simply to stand with him, to share space, to let him know he wasn’t alone. We offered him our presence, our calm, and our willingness to co-regulate—just being there with him as he tried to manage the storm inside.
We stayed by his side for a long while. As the session drew to a close, we gently moved away toward the other horses, inviting Tigger to join us. He paused, then turned and followed, choosing connection over isolation. He joined Gizmo and, at last, began to eat, settling down a little.
That moment felt like a profound act of repair and reciprocity—for both Tigger and my client. Tigger didn’t have to keep struggling alone. Through our shared presence and co-regulation, he felt safe enough, calm enough, to leave his lookout and rejoin his herd. In that simple act, Tigger found connection and the support he so deeply needed.