To the horses I've known... an apology

Recently, I’ve had the unique pleasure of reuniting with a horse that I started under saddle twenty years ago.  Ben was not my first green horse; my family raised Arabians and I was very hands-on with the starting process.  But, he was the first one that was ALL mine.  I had supervision from my trainer and my dad, but I did the groundwork, the riding and the showing.  I sold Ben ten years ago and recently adopted him back.  He had been in a terrible situation and starved within inches of his life.  He is now recovering and I felt like climbing on him again, just for old times sake.  As I sat on this horse, with which I have so much history, whom I left behind for so long, I want to apologize.  I want to apologize to all the horses I’ve worked in my life.

Not because Ben is a bad riding horse or has been trained poorly--no, quite the contrary.  Even after all he’s been through, Ben still responds to light seat and leg cues, picks up a rhythmic trot and softens his neck and back to the rider (even without a bit in his mouth).  Ben is a lovely riding horse.  I want to apologize because I didn’t enjoy him enough when he was mine.  

I didn’t see the horse he was because I was so wrapped up in what I needed him to be.  There was always another show, another movement, another level to master.  I was never good enough, so my horse was never good enough, either.  Ben and all the other horses I’ve owned, I wish I could have enjoyed your gifts a little more and pushed you a little bit less.

As I write this, I need to clarify, I was not an overly tough trainer.  If horse trainers were rated on toughness from 1-10, I would probably fall around 4.5.  I probably would have been more successful if I’d pushed my horses and my clients just a little bit harder.  I often erred on the side of caution and I did not always produce the results that my clients and I desired.  Still, now that I do not make my living by riding, I can see more clearly the mistakes I made.

I am sorry, Ben, and all the other horses...

I am sorry when I pushed too hard, when I didn’t notice your frustration, when I didn’t credit your effort with a break.

I am sorry when I wasn’t clear enough with my aids and you were confused.

I am sorry when I punished you for my own mistakes.

I am sorry when my ambition blinded me to your needs, even for a few moments.

I am sorry when you weren’t enough for me.  Honestly, no horse could have filled up the pit of my ambition when I was twenty-one years old.  I was driven, focused and determined to be a professional dressage trainer.  I am sorry when I looked at my horse as a vehicle for my career, instead of seeing what the horse needed.

Every successful rider is driven, there is nothing wrong with that, as long as that drive does not overtake horsemanship.  There is a fine line between demanding much and losing sight of the best interests of the horse.  The best trainers live on that line.  Their horses work towards their highest potential, with healthy bodies and happy hearts.  The rest of us, well, we struggle to find the balance between our goals and our horses’ needs.

You horses have an incredible burden when a person mounts their back.  You not only carry our bodies, but our dreams and ambition.  You are not only our partners, friends and pets, but our vehicles.  Vehicles, literally, across space, and figuratively, forward into our riding ambitions.  No horse ever asked to be a national champion, a Grand Prix horse, a stakes winner.  You have no goals beyond your next meal, your next friend, your next romp in the pasture.  You never asked to be ridden, and we expect you to fulfill my dreams.  

How heavy I must have been to carry, Ben, with the weight of my future on your back.  How I hope you know how much you meant to me, even though I kept pushing for more and better.  How I hope I can appreciate my now and future horses for the gifts they offer, without demanding more so quickly and so often.  How I hope I can enjoy the ride.

To your credit, my horses and teachers, you did fulfill my dreams, in so many ways.  Although I was the trainer and worked to mold you into the competition horses I needed, you also molded me.  You molded me into a more patient, more kind, more determined, more responsive, more aware person.