love will tear us apart

A few days ago, the working student posed an interesting question.

"Do you tell your horses you love them?"

"No," I said.

"Well, do you love them?"

I nodded.

"So-and-so has been teasing me for telling my horse I love him," she replied as I went to turn one of my horses back outside.

Loving a horse, that's a complicated thing.  Having a horse isn't like having a cat.  My neighbor handed me a kitten the other day, told me he was a hungry little guy he'd found by the side of the road.  George is currently sleeping on a pile of saddle pads, happy as can be.  I can feed George for a minimal amount of money and none of my life goals depend on his ability to hunt mice.

When someone loves you and they hurt you, it affects you personally.  If they do something that hurts your feelings you can, in a perfect world, express this and expect some sort of apologetic feedback.  When you openly love your horse, love him or her like you would love a person, you run the risk of taking it very personally when your horse inevitably acts in a manner counter to how you would like them to act.  When your horse spooks at something he sees daily and suddenly he's acting "stupid," your assumption might be the horse is acting that way on purpose out of spite.  It becomes personal, when you love a horse this way, if they are not progressing in training the way you expect.  The two steps back for every three steps forward carries a heavier emotional weight.  If only they loved you the way you love them, then they would jump higher, come rounder, and stand better.

Instead, if you have respect and genuine care for your horse, not the love like one would have for a human, these bumps in the road can be looked at through a clearer lens.  A horse can't be "stupid" on purpose; they are not capable of acting out that way.  This is far easier to see when your emotions aren't quite so wrapped up in the situation.  Training struggles become significantly less emotionally draining when they can be abstracted from a horse doing (or not doing) out of love.  No more, "g-d damnit horse, can't you just do it?  It means so much to me!"  All you're left with is asking, waiting, asking again, riding out the bad and rewarding the good.  The mainly black and white world of the horse is so much easier to see when anthropomorphized love isn't muddying the waters.

Loving horses is also a tricky thing because horses require a lot more financially than the fluffy kitten sprawled across my lap.  In part because I want to avoid selling one of my young horses, my "little mare" went thirty minutes down the road to try a new career as a therapeutic riding horse yesterday.  For the second time in the past year, I did what I thought was best for both myself and my horse.*  Deciding to give her up was one of the hardest thing I have done.  This is a horse who's mane I have cried into, the horse I have cantered bareback through the woods, and did my first horse trials on.  I love her.  Actually, this is the third time I've tried to retire her; this time I know I need to do it.  Looking at her bridle today, hung up next to the youngsters', I almost burst into tears.  I will keep loving her.  However, I had to do what was best for her and best for me.  She was not getting the attention from me she deserved as I was, and am, selfishly absorbed in young horses.  Sixteen year old me would probably go up one side of me and down the other for letting go, but teenage me also went to watch Fair Hill back when it was long format and decided then and there THAT was what I was going to do.  Teenage-me was not as able to comprehend the necessary sacrifices as almost-thirty me is.  It doesn't mean I am any less capable of loving a horse, it just means I have had to learn to approach the connections I make with these animals more pragmatically.  In the end, I think this lends itself to a healthier existence for all creatures involved.

*Spot is now a Pony Clubber's horse and I just received a video of him jumping with "his" new kid.  They look like they are having a blast.  I couldn't ask for a better situation for him.