Posts Tagged ‘responsible ownership’
Transitioning your blind horse to their new life
Marco… Polo… Marco… Polo:
LaceyMonkeyGirl has sent us a request for a post giving some guidance on transitioning your blind horse to their new life, along with some additional questions that we would like to answer for you, based partly on our own experience. She has a 27 year old Arab mare who has recently been diagnosed with Uveitis in both eyes. LaceyMonkeyGirl is still riding her quite a bit and after the initial “OMG! I can’t see as well!”, she’s doing really well. She’s a bit more spooky but once she figures out her new seeing/blind areas, I think she’ll be ok. She’s figuring out what words for obstacles mean and we’ve finally re-figured out leading (who knew leading a nearly blind horse was so difficult! haha). I think she’ll transition fine, it’s just getting there that presents itself as a slightly difficult issue.
Moon Blindness/Equine Recurrent Uveitis is an inflammation of the inner layer of the eye also known as the uvea, but it is also commonly diagnosed with any inflammatory process dealing with the interior eye. In layman’s terms, it’s one of a number of causes of blindness in horses that also include cancers, trauma and glaucoma.
Do I keep her in a very familiar field where I visit multiple times a day but is very hilly and tree-y, or do I move her somewhere where I might not be able to visit as often but is more blindness-friendly (flatter, no trees, etc)?
Answer: Move her to a new paddock where there are no tripping hazards or overhanging limbs so she can learn the new paddock while she has some residual vision. It’s hard enough on horses to adjust to their new vision loss and having objects in the way only makes their life harder. The dangers of trees and objects in the way will generally cause more serious damage to a blind horse than the blindness itself. Horses are proficient navigators. They have the ability to memorize the locations of objects and have better directional sense than people. Most blind horses will learn to navigate fence lines, troughs and some objects, but they can’t memorize every tree or rock in a heavily obstructed paddock. Overhanging limbs are a special problem, as are guy wires.
What about pasture mates, do I continue her living with her current “buddies” (2 wild llamas who I do not own) or would it be better for me to start thinking about buying a quiet buddy for her that will move with us if we ever need to move?
Answer: Find a new buddy. If you do not own the current pasture mates, you can’t rely on them to always be there, whether you move or not. You should do this sooner, rather than later. It is easier to introduce a horse to a new pasture mate while it can still see, as blind horses are sometimes bullied by sighted horses while they are establishing the new pecking order. Your girl’s best friend is likely to be another low vision or blind horse who will not take advantage of her vision loss. Contrary to popular belief, they don’t need a “seeing eye” horse, they just need a solid, gentle friend that they can hang out with. And horses like other horses far better than llamas, anyway! The rescues often have blind horses seeking homes. Especially Appaloosa rescues.
What’s “the best” flymask for everyday wear? She has a Kensington Bug Eye that she wears quite a bit, but with daily wear, it does create rubs. I’ve tried other “traditional” styles and they either touch her eyelashes (and irritate her eyes) or come off as soon as she rubs her head on things…
Answer: Probably the best mask out there for blind horses is the Guardian Mask, though we have also always been partial to Cashel’s line, too. The Guardian Mask is specifically made for blind horses in that it offers UV protection and sits high off the horse’s eyes. As you know, eye protection is important because the condition that blinded your girl to begin with is not necessarily gone, just because her vision is. It will be important to keep her comfortable. You will also want to continue any medications that she has been on, as uveitis flare-ups can remain uncomfortable for her.
Adjusting to the blind life:
Becoming blind isn’t easy for a horse and some horses don’t adjust as well as others. They are all individuals and everyone is different. While most horses are able to make this transition fairly smoothly, some never really do and one of the most painful realizations that a caring owner can face is that your horse has lost its quality of life along with its vision. This is not generally the case, though. Most blind horses are hard to distinguish from sighted horses by the casual observer. The fact that you’ve started to retrain her to listen to your voice for guidance is a great start, as is your careful planning for her comfort and safety when she eventually loses her vision entirely. She sounds like she is in very capable hands.
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Post by Ride Like The Wind. You’ll be seeing a lot more from her now! RLTW has generously offered to help me cover important topics. In this way, (hopefully) nothing falls through the cracks and we’re going to aim to have new posts up on Fugly at least 5 days per week! If there’s anyone else who would like to regularly contribute, or even just submit the occasional guest post, you know where to find me
-fuglyblog@hotmail.com
Tips for identifying bad trainers
For reals this time!
Last week I featured a guest post with a title that just a few people thought was misleading. Fortunately, that lead to my latest brilliant idea! (Hopefully that “brilliant” wasn’t sarcastic!) I’ve compiled the tips you guys left in the comments on the original post below and will be putting it into a pdf for people to download, share, and basically whatever floats their boat. But, before the grand compilation begins, is there anyone else who wants to share their horror stories or tips of what to look for and/or how to identify bad trainers?
Here’s what we’ve got so far (my apologies if there’s some overlap, I’ll edit before pdf-erizing):
1. Use a trainer reasonably close to home. Avoid sending your horse to a different state.
2. Ask about visitation. If trainers don’t let people on the property without an appointment (having specific ‘office hours’ is different), then it might hide a problem. I once saw a website that said ‘due to the nature of mule training, we don’t allow the public on the property’. Hrm….what are you hiding?
3. Watch the trainer work with a horse. (The same goes for lesson barns – never sign up for lessons without watching one, preferably with the same instructor).
4. Look at the horses. I always say that if horses are in an aisle with Dutch doors and you don’t get a ton of heads pop out when you walk down the aisle something’s wrong (unless they just got their grain, in which case they might be too greedy to bother saying hi
). The horses should not be underweight. One or two underweight horses might have a good explanation. A horse at our barn had colic surgery and lost 100 pounds over night! He looked awful for about a month before he put it all back on.
5. Look in the tack room. What kind of bits are hanging on the wall? What kind of ‘training aids’ are lying around? Is all the equipment in good condition and clean?
6. Ask the trainer to include a lesson or two for you with your horse. In the case of sending a horse to be started, this should be at the end before you take it home. If you’re doing discipline-specific training, will he or she give you a lesson a week? A lesson on one of their horses before yours is ready? This is really important…your trainer will teach the horse the way *they* ride, which might not be quite the same as the way *you* ride and you don’t want to end up with a confused horse.
-Jennifer R
I would also add that any trainer who shows any indication of discomfort being watched in action is a no go. A good trainer has faithful followers and isn’t concerned with his/her methods being viewed.
There should be few to no flattened ears, sullen expressions or horses tied uncomfortably high anywhere. There should be at least slight evidence of hay in the paddock/stall and there should be adequate turnout for every horse. If there’s only one or two outdoor paddocks and 50 horses – RUN.
Be specific about what you want or don’t want. If you only want your horse dumb-broke but safe, say so. If you want seamless transitions, expect to leave your horse there for at least 3 months.
If you have an aversion to any type of training device (draw reins, martingales, shanked bits, spurs, etc, be up front about it. Everyone has a different view on what is fair and just. Don’t assume anything.
Pop over unannounced. There should be no reason why you can’t show up during regular barn hours to see your horse. “Commercial” barns should be filled with happy, healthy horses and friendly, knowledgeable people. If you can only visit with notice, forget the place.
-blondemare
CHECK REFERENCES. And by the way it’s a really good idea to stroll the show barn aisles after 11 p.m. Just sayin’.That trainer who supposedly has even good references might just be trying something stupid and evil.
-Sunvalleysally
If you’re a newbie or an amateur rider who wants a trainer to start a colt, put some manners or a better handle on a horse, or take you both to a higher level, you have to do your homework about training and horsemanship. This should come from many sources, not only from one trainer who tells you this is how it’s done. Most of all, you need to become a horseman (one who knows and cares about horses and feels a deep responsibility to each individual horse), not just a rider (one who rides at some level) or a horse owner. Horsemen can spot another good horseman, and they can also spot a charlatan. Your goals for your horse’s training should include developing him in such a way that he becomes stronger, sounder, more supple, lasts longer and is happy in his work, not just competitively successful or an obedient slave. What you tell the trainer you want to achieve with your horse–and how you follow through on what you say–will help you separate the good trainers from the bad ones.
-OldGreyMare
if you are there and present at shows and while the horse is in training.. you at least have the chance to notice negative effects on your horse and have a chance to maybe not prevent.. but stop the problem. Even “certified” trainers blessed off by breed associations have their share of lemons. Even so, not everyone completely agrees on what is abuse and what is just a firm tactic. Drugging is not an advisable way to get results.. but from what I have seen in show circles that I was in.. the clients knew it if it was done.
-qhgirl
A line of heads hanging over stall doors, with bright curious eyes and relaxed lips, points to horses that aren’t worried about what is going to happen next. Watch the trainer work with two or three horses– are they all eager to be under saddle? When they screw up, does the trainer react with laughter? When a horse needs rebuked, does the trainer do this without excess violence or any degree of anger?
Watch the trainer as he talks to you, the client. Wander over close to a stall. Does he reach out and pet the horse next to him? Does he talk to his horses? Do his horses talk to him?
All of this should be in place. A trainer might fake being a horse lover, but if you seriously watch him (or her) work, you quickly realize how much of what you are seeing is staged. I recently saw a trainer post a picture of himself, riding his ‘cheap’ horse in a lake, wearing shorts and riding in a halter. Now THAT is a trainer I want to handle my horses. I called him on his obvious love for his horse, and he said, “You can’t train horses if you don’t love them.”
-Charm
Always ask for an ITEMIZED bill, if those types of things go on your board bill.
-Domdaisy
Take EVERY negative thing you hear and see into consideration. I could care less if the facilities are less than par, or that the tack is dirty (means its been used), or if the horses are all pastured. What I care about is TIME.
Is the trainer forcing a horse into a frame using martingales, draw reins, etc….? Or introducing true collection taking time to build the horses muscles. When the trainer goes into a field do the horses run away? Or come to him? Does the trainer allow visitation at anytime (within reason obviously)? Do you see him starting young horses with so much tack that you can’t tell which is which?
Its common sense people. The thing is most grade A trainers use abusive techniques to get from point A to point B, because if you do it properly it takes time, and time is money.
I would sooner use someone just getting started, that maybe takes a little more time, whose methods are less streamlined, but know my horse will not be abused and my horse will be worked as said.
-Shakirah
After owning and riding horse as a child and teenager, I, at the ripe age of 48, decided to start riding again. I took lessons from a local trainer and before I knew I was talked into buying a three year old, half Arab, GORGEOUS, mare that the trainer was excited about training and showing (on my dime). How stupid was I? Very! Over the course of the two years owning this horse I learned a lot, the hard way. The trainer did a good job getting my mare under saddle, she even made it to nationals and got a top ten (while I watched from the sidelines, checkbook in hand). Anyone, including me, should have known that this horse was a completely wrong fit for me. I am not that interested in showing and wanted a good all around horse for life that I could enjoy out on the trail as well as in the ring. My trainer knew that, yet here I was the proud owner of a young Afire Bey mare, ex halter champion, English Pleasure horse that had terrible ground manners and who I could not ride unless under supervision in the bull pen! Again, how stupid was I? Extremely!!!!! However, one learns fast from making mistakes. I learned that I wanted to be truly hands on with my own horse, working with the animal myself instead of the trainer doing that, or whatever unskilled farm hand they delegated care to. Sure, I need supervision and training from people who know their shit, but I am done with having a trainer give me permission touch or ride my horse. For the duration of my show pony experience I felt like a walking wallet whose sole purpose was to shell out dough so the trainer could further THEIR interests, and sometimes their interests were very counter to mine or what was best for the horse…enter more cash infusion for massive vet bills. Now I am the proud owner of a SOUND, well mannered, 7 year old Arab gelding. I moved him away from the previous trainer/toxic barn environment/life in a stall and put him into a pasture in a great facility run by people who can help me grow into the hands on horsewoman I want to be. I get more training from the professionals than my horse does. He’s broke…I’m a work in progress.
-Janalina
Even brief visitation can provide a pretty big picture of how the horse is being treated. Does it look nervous, scared, or angry? Is there any evidence of harsh handling such as welt or spur marks or crusty/scabbed lips? Does the horse seem head shy or overly evasive of the bit? If I came across a trainer that never allowed visitation then I would be suspicious and probably wouldn’t send my horse to them unless they had some pretty damn rock solid reviews.
-Walking Hosses
Any trainer, especially a walking horse trainer, who relies on “secret” techniques that they “don’t want to share” is highly suspect. Their “private” techniques may be their own version of the stomach-turning naked cruelty
-OldGreyMare
1. “Checking references and checking facilities is no way to tell. ” Actually, I do think it is ONE WAY that you can try to figure out whether the place is right for you. Other clients opinions and the barn’s reputation will help you make a decision. No it won’t prevent all problems, but it is at least a start. You can cross off the places that look like tetanus breeding factories and the trainer that is “known” for his aggressive techniques (horse people are big gossips).
2.”This is even more true if you don’t know how to start a horse or how to finish a horse… end.of.story.” I will agree with you there, if you don’t know much about horses.. you will be a bigger sucker when it comes to a trainer lacking in the morals department. This will also apply when you take your car into the service station and the shifty mechanic inflates the repairs when you don’t know any better. Even certified mechanics can overcharge.
3.”Secondly, it always amazes me how many horse chicks want to blame the horse and the horse owner for what a trainer (who was hired BTW) did to the horse. Seriously girls you should take some critical thinking courses.” My response was clear that it was not the horse’s fault. However, I believe the owner has some responsibility to make their best effort to find a place that is safe for the animal. I also expect that they monitor the situation so they can get said horse out of it if things aren’t going as was agreed. The trainer is still WRONG for doing what they are doing, but I am not 100% letting the owner off the hook if there was something they could do (remove animal).
4.”While education does not guarantee that someone will be competent it certainly is a good place to start.” Education and experience are key.. but you can’t teach ethics and morals. There are certifications out there that trainers can get.. and I guarantee that among those certified trainers, there are some aces and some lemons.. So.. we are back to where we started aren’t we? There is “no way” to guarantee your horse isn’t at some risk when he is under the care of another person… all you can do is your best homework and monitor your horse for signs of trouble.
-qhgirl
I bought a show horse from someone who kept him at the trainers. I’d seen the trainer at shows, but didn’t really know him personally. I went to his barn to see the horse. Everything was in order, horses looked good, I saw him win alot at the shows and he seemed nice enough. After I bought the horse, people told me horror stories about him. Told me they were so glad I got the horse out of there because he was so mean and abusive to it. Goes to show you, you never know what goes on behind even the nicest of looking of doors!
-Ponykins
In my opinion, the best way for someone who doesn’t know what goes on behind the scenes is to look at the horses that have been sold from the barn they are looking at. Did that horse win a world championship, get sold for a ton of money then never make it into the showring? Does that trainer even have horses sold directly to smaller barns or people who show without trainers? How different does that “kid safe” horse look with a new trainer (even a big name)?
Those are the questions that you need to think about when you are considering a trainer. If you are worried, then your safest bet is to look for a trainer that will sell horses to anyone the horse is suitable for, even if that means a junior exhibitor who will taking the horse home over the winter. If your trainer insists that your extremely well trained show horse NEEDS to be in full training year round with them even though you have all the time in the world to take them home and know what you are doing, then take a closer look at what is going on with your horse.
If your trainer insists that your horse NEEDS this shot or that injection, get a second opinion, because a lot of the time it’s really not necessary. Does your trainer label trunks when you are at shows? Are there multiple trunks with nothing but medical supplies in them?
There are so many ways to spot a trainer who takes short cuts (or gives any horse a drug concoction whether they need it or not), you just have to keep an eye on what’s going on and be that owner who asks questions. What’s the worse they can do? Kick you out? Trust me, there are plenty of good trainers out there that would love to have you and aren’t as interested in robbing you blind.
-Trisha
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And here’s my contribution:
Just because one trainer is good for one horse, doesn’t mean it’ll be good for another horse. Not all trainers adjust their methods according to your horses specific needs. The best ones, of course, do. But not all. Nope, definitely not all. If/when you talk to others looking for referrals, be sure to find out about their horse’s personality and any training obstacles they may have had to overcome and how the trainer worked through them. I’ve found the best evidence of a good trainer, is anecdotal.
Why do you need public approval to get rid of your unwanted horse?
The following is a comment some anonymous person made and was sent in via email.
“Need some opinions; I have a almost yearling standardbred colt here..I rescued his mom in foal, he was born on my farm. He is not registered nor will he be..I am afriad to re-home him as “who wants a baby standardbred that won’t race”..I hate to re-home him to an abusive home or find out he went for slaughter..Right now hes taking up space that I could rescue another..Any suggestions on what to do with him? Its not as easy as just keep him as he needs regular blacksmith care, feed, etc (it costs me having him here)”
(ps. This winning horse owner apparently also has a stallion -keep this in mind for later.)
If I’m reading it right, and this is approximately the millionth time I’ve read this submission so hopefully I am, this person wants to get rid of one useless horse to rescue another. Is that what you’re reading too? What is it that makes them think this future rescue horse will be so much better than the horse they currently have? Both require “blacksmith care, feed, etc” -which, coincidentally, is also known as some (not all!) of the basic requirements for any and ALL horses (yes, even rescue ones).
I think, and please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems like this person is looking for a project/prospect and NOT an actual rescue. It sounds to me like she wants to pick up a cheapy and then flip it for a profit. And there is NOTHING wrong with that, in fact, some might argue you’re doing these horses a good service; by putting training into them you’re adding value and (theoretically) helping to keep them out of the hands of KB’s everywhere. However, in the unlikely event that your horse doesn’t sell the second you put it on the market, you have to be prepared to care for it.
Let’s face it, we all know the horse industry is in the crapper. Why would you take on a rescue horse? What are you going to do? Hit up the auction and hope you get lucky? Find a diamond in the rough? That’s like going to a dive bar in the worst part of town and hoping to walk out with Richard Geere in your own version of Pretty Woman! IT AIN’T GOING TO HAPPEN!
I’m also wondering why this colt isn’t being registered? Is it because he can’t be? Not quite sure who the sperm donor was? Or what breed? Perhaps he sustained an injury that prevents him from racing and therefore what possible reason could there be then for registering him? Hey if he’s not going to race, why register him, right? Maybe they really want to get rid of him because of the injury and are just hoping potential purchasers won’t notice…
OH! OH! I KNOW!! (Actually, I don’t, this is a complete guess.) This person’s stallion got funky with the mare and out popped an unregisterable half-breed. What do you think? Am I close? Oh sure, the comment says she rescued the mare and it was preggers but where’s the proof! Let’s cast some stones, dammit!
Moral of the story: Please don’t rescue horses (or buy them, for that matter) unless you’re prepared to provide any and all necessary care – which does include more than just “blacksmith care, feed, etc”.
And hey, do us all (or maybe just me) a favor, when you’re looking for public approval to sell your next horse, don’t try to tug at our (or my, at least) heartstrings by using hot-button words like “abuse” and “slaughter” in your ads. It tends to get our (my?) guard up and irritates some of us (me again) that you’re trying to manipulate others into purchasing a horse you no longer wish to deal with. Especially when you flat out state you want to get another.
Please don’t piss in my cup and tell me it’s apple juice. Mmmm k?
Guest Post: The Day I Took Control
I’ve been riding since I was 6 years old. When I say “riding”, I don’t mean that I sat on a relative’s horse a few times a year, or occasionally took the neighbor’s horse for a spin whilst holding on for dear life. I rode every single day after school and took lessons at least once a week. I took things very seriously, always striving to improve the quality of my riding, the training of my horse, and my knowledge of how to keep him healthy and happy.
I was not the kind of kid who picked just one instructor to take lessons from. I enjoyed hauling my horse to various trainers and clinicians. I felt like utilizing various resources was the best way to soak up as much knowledge as I could, rather than limiting myself to just one person’s ideas.
Occasionally, I would try a new instructor and instantly knew they were not for me. The reasons varied. There were the ones who sat on a chair at the end of the arena talking with the barn moms, and each time I rode by they’d offer something as educational as “good, now change direction” and return to gossiping. There were the ones who wanted me to change my bit, tighten my noseband, and strap my horse down with gadgets before even seeing me ride. There were the ones who tried their best to offer insightful training theories that were probably helpful, if only my juvenile brain could have comprehended them. On the other hand, there were times that I tried out a new instructor and felt like I learned more from them in the first lesson than I’d learned from someone else after several months of lessons.
Regardless of how I felt about their communications styles or training techniques, one thing was consistent: I always respected that they knew more than me, and that I should keep an open mind and try what they asked of me, just in case they were leading me toward an amazing epiphany that would change my life as a horseback rider forever.
Unfortunately, my blissful naiveté came to a crashing halt when I was 15. I’d started riding with a classical dressage trainer who was a beautiful, elegant rider. I didn’t particularly care for her on a personal level, but when I took lessons from her I always felt like she explained things in great detail and I was able to feel a positive difference by applying her techniques. She commented that she appreciated me as a student because, unlike some of the other kids who would mindlessly ride around in circles, she would see me riding on my own and practicing the exercises that she taught me during our lessons. After a few months of lessons with her, she suggested that I ride with a clinician who was coming to town. She told me all about him, his extensive accomplishments, and said that she’d ridden with him many times and appreciated his methods. He was quite pricey but my parents were impressed with his resume and trusted the instructor’s opinion of him, so they agreed to let me try one ride.
I won’t go into specific details of the who/what/where of the clinic, let’s just say it was not a pleasant experience. I was riding a nervous horse that I hadn’t had for very long, so I got on early in order to warm up and settle him in. It turned out that the schedule was running ahead of time, so when the clinician noticed I was on early he put me right to work. He immediately began asking me to do difficult things which my nervous horse was obviously not ready for. I had difficulty understanding him because he had a foreign accent and was yelling at me. This only made me feel more tense, which made it difficult for me to help my horse to calm down. I asked permission to have a few minutes to do some of our usual suppling and calming exercises, just to get the horse into a better frame of mind. He responded that I just needed to keep trying what he was telling me so that I could get it. After several more minutes of trying my hardest to do what he asked, and still failing to receive any good results from my horse, the clinician became increasingly irritated. He asked me to get off the horse and said that he wanted to lunge the horse to get the horse’s mind focused on working.
Just to be clear, at this point the horse was not misbehaving or out of control. He was not bolting, bucking, rearing, or anything of the sort. He steered in the directions that I pointed him, and when I asked for an upward or downward transition, he complied. He just was very tense, rushing in the trot, a little bit jiggy in the walk, and distracted, occasionally whinnying for his friends.
The clinician put the horse on the lunge line and instantly chased him into a gallop. He seemed to alternate from chasing the horse with the whip to yanking on the lunge line and expecting the horse to instantly halt. I watched in horror – this was NOT how my horse was used to being lunged. Having never experienced this sort of ambush from a trainer before, I didn’t know what to do. My instructor who referred me to this clinician was standing there watching and she didn’t give me any sort of sign that she was not satisfied with the way things were going. There was a small handful of auditors and I remember glancing over to see if they where whispering or wearing facial expressions that would give some indication that I should run over and take my horse back. Nobody else appeared overly appalled, so I held on to my good faith a little longer, thinking “This guy is a pro. He is trying to get a result, and if I’m patient, I will see the light bulb go off in my horse’s head and some amazing transformation will occur.” That’s about the time that my horse flipped over, scraped the inside of one of his legs with the shoe from his other foot, jumped back up, and galloped back onto the circle, dripping with sweat and looking very stressed.
At that time, I do remember looking to my instructor and several others and asking “shouldn’t we stop him and check to make sure he is okay?” Allow me to remind you that I was 15 years old. I had been raised to be polite and respectful toward adults, so mustering up the courage to question an accomplished professional took all the guts I had. The response was a collection of awkward faces with sympathetic smiles, as if they agreed with my concerns but did not think it was socially appropriate for me to tell Mr. Big Shot that I wanted my horse back. So, regretably, I just waited.
I think the clinician did hear my question (which I intentionally asked just loud enough that I thought he would) and stopped lunging the horse just a few moments after he fell. He led the horse back over to me, told me to get back on, and had me trot a few circles. The amazing transformation that I’d trustingly waited for never came; I was left with a horse that was even more nervous than he’d been 30 minutes before, but too broken and exhausted to protest. To me, that is NOT training.
The clinician told me he thought my horse had had enough for one day (no, really?) and that I should hose him off and put him away. I had not signed up to ride the second day, but he said he’d be happy to squeeze me into the schedule (how generous, squeezing in another lesson that he’d be making a lot of money for!) because he thought that my horse would benefit from it. At that point, my brain was frazzled. I just smiled and thanked him for his time, and told him I wasn’t available the next day. I felt so many emotions at once, which in turn made me feel emotionally numb. I felt betrayed by the clinician and by my instructor, and I also felt angry at myself for betraying my horse. I beat myself up over that for a while, and still feel tremendous guilt when I think about it today. I was taking a sociology class in school at the time, and it reminded me of the research studies that showed examples of humans in groups witnessing an atrocious event. Each person is hesitant to step out of the group and do anything about it, because they assume someone else will, and because nobody does, they all assume that allowing the atrocious event is acceptable. I was THAT person, the one who allowed an atrocious event to happen to MY OWN HORSE, knowing it was wrong, and didn’t even try to stop it.
I remember thinking what a shame it was that my parents spent such a hefty amount of money (and we were NOT big spenders) to ride with a clinician that not only traumatized my horse and me, but I learned absolutely nothing from him.
Oddly enough, once my emotions recovered and logic kicked in, I realized that I learned a lesson from that clinician that was worth every penny.
That was the day I took control. I learned that while it’s good to have an open mind and a hunger to learn as much as I can from multiple trainers, there is another side of the coin. An eeeevil side of the coin. A side of the coin that says that some trainers do not have my best interest, nor my horse’s best interest, at heart. A side of the coin that says that some trainers are arrogant pricks who think that just because someone is paying them for a service, they have the right to do whatever they want with that person’s horse. A side of the coin that says that some trainers are downright abusive to their students and to their horses. And the most important part of the lesson I learned was that when I encounter trainers like that, there is only one person who can protect my horse, and that person is me. I have the power to step in and say what types of interactions I will or will not allow them to have with my horse. If they do not choose to respect my boundaries, I have the power to pay for the lesson and politely excuse myself early. Suddenly, as I vowed to myself that from that point forward I would raise my hackles and protect my horse anytime I needed to (which is only fair considering he protected me every day that I rode him) I began to feel quite empowered. I had visions of myself and my horse being partners in crime – us against the world – sticking together and watching each other’s backs through and through. A dressagey version of Batman and Robin, if you will.
I mentioned earlier that when I was a child, I blindly trusted my instructors, knowing that they had more knowledge and experience than I had and could guide me to be a better horse person. It was much easier when I thought that was always true. Now that I’m all grown up, full of knowledge and experience myself, I have pretty good judgment on the types of training techniques I am willing to use, and the horses I ride are very happy and trusting. I occasionally see green riders in a predicament, wearing the same questioning look on their faces that I wore during that clinic, as they watch a trainer work with their horses in a destructive manner. I have sympathy for them and, if it feels appropriate, I share my experience with them in hopes of building their confidence to stand up for their horse. It is very difficult to tell the professional “You’re doing it wrong!” when you yourself don’t have the knowledge or experience to know for sure if what they’re doing is, in fact, wrong. Even if your gut feeling tells you something’s wrong, it’s difficult to confront the professional who will possibly respond by defensively asking “do you, miss know-it-all green rider, know how to train this horse better than I do???” It’s easy to become intimidated by the professionals, but we should never forget that everything that happens to our horses, good or bad, is because we allow it to happen to them. Even if we don’t know correct training from incorrect training, we can’t forget that we still know right from wrong.
It’s unfortunate that I had to endure such a horrible experience in order to learn this lesson, but I’m infinitely grateful that I learned it. That clinic was the first and last time that I ever allowed a trainer to mistreat one of my horses. In case you were wondering, the horse from the clinic progressed into a happy dressage horse who is now partially retired and offering rides to dressage students who want a “preview of coming attractions” should they stick with their training.















