Now secured in crossties, Blackie tried to stand still, but he could not help himself from twisting his lithe body ever so slightly left to right, assessing all that was going on around him. Meanwhile, I gently stroked his supple neck and massaged his firm withers as I spoke softly into his furry ears and kissed his velvety muzzle. With these small gestures, I wanted to see if I could build my own bond with him, to observe if, with time, he might respond to and trust me like he did Gail. Quickly realizing that there was an immediate connection, Gail embraced the opportunity, saying, “Would you like to try Blackie? He moves as good as he looks.” 

Of course, I wanted to ride him, but in refusing to acknowledge this instinctive impulse, I clung to some semblance of my rational self and respectfully declined the generous offer.  

“Thank you, Gail, but no, not today,” I said. “I don’t have that ‘I’m ready to jump on a racehorse’ frame of mind.” 

Even though Blackie had already gripped my imagination, I held back from mounting him upon that spur-of-the-moment invitation, because I was afraid of this undeveloped prospect, unsure that I should or could accept such a splendid dare. While concerned about compatibility, I was mostly preoccupied with where such a big step might lead me. Before experiencing that closest of rapports between horses and humans that riding represents, I needed to pause, to ask myself if I should curb my quickening fancy and first consider the implications of a spirited horse like Blackie. Would he be too much for me? On many levels? Could I handle him? Could I train him? I pondered privately. Most importantly, though, I wondered, Could I manage him and my demanding job at the same time? What if this capricious creature upset all that I had struggled to establish as a professional woman, risking the mighty foundation I had built up for myself and into which I had cemented my very identity?  

On the heels of these trifling rationalizations, I closed the matter at hand by saying to Gail, “While I don’t believe Twinkles is a match for me, please give me some time to think about Blackie, as you consider whether you really want to let him go.” 

Unconsciously, I must have known that mounting him then and there would have ripped open a floodgate of repressed emotions that I was unprepared to confront. But those hidden feelings were precisely the secret sentiments Gary was hoping I would tap back into by having a horse in my life again, convinced that any Sturm und Drang unleashed by this magnificent 1,200-pound ball of pure energy would be temporary and, in the end, all for the good. He simply paid no mind to my inner conflict about this whole horse thing. Instead, he capitalized on the fact that, ever since stepping foot in the barn at Altamira Ranch, I had been eyeing this mysterious black beauty. 

Naturally intuitive, Gail sensed the tug-of-war going on inside me and leapt at another chance to steer me toward Blackie. 

“I know Thoroughbreds can be intimidating,” she said. “They’re a lot of horse, but once you understand them, they’re truly the best.”  

Gail found herself encouraging my nascent attraction, because, if she had to part with her Blackie, she wanted to place him with someone like me who revealed an instant affinity, however much I was trying to deny it. Assuring her that we would be in touch again soon, Gary and I took our leave, and as we headed to our car, I looked back over my shoulder and saw Blackie’s eyes fixed on me. 

While retracing our path back over the Santa Ynez Mountains to our home in the Santa Barbara foothills, we each quietly considered our day’s adventure. The lulling sound of the car’s pliant tires rolling against the hard asphalt filled the tranquil space between us. For me, this rare excursion together had been a refreshing change of pace from my normal workaholic grind, and I enjoyed the sense of calm it brought. As it turns out, though, it was short-lived. 

When we approached home, winding slowly up toward Rattlesnake Canyon on narrow, curving roads bordered with gnarled oaks and craggy boulders, Gary broke our silent musings. Being a decisive person, he simply stated, “I think you’ve found your horse. Search no further!” 

“What!? Why do you say that? What makes you so sure?” I shot back defensively, fearing deep down that he might be right.  

“Well, for starters, he’s smart and good-looking. And it’s about time you had someone like that in your life,” Gary quipped. Smiling wide now, he added, “There’s already some kind of woman-horse communication thing going on between the two of you. It just seems like love at first sight. Put it this way: if you ever looked at another man the way you looked at that horse, I would know the marriage was over!” 

Laughing under my breath, I had to confess, “Yes! Blackie’s definitely in my head, and more importantly in my heart, but he’s so green.”  

Gary quickly countered, intent on influencing my deliberations, “His naiveté is not a detriment. Think of his rawness and need for attention as assets. Even I can tell he’s a force of nature, but by bringing him into your life, you will help him while also finding a healthy kind of absorption. You desperately need that. Something good and wholesome but also challenging to check your obsession with work.” As I let Gary’s words sink in, he gently pressed one last time. “Call Gail and get on his back and see what you think, before she changes her mind or someone else grabs him.” 

Pre-order Fur Mama here.

This excerpt from Fur Mama by Diana Dupont is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books.

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Hidden Campsite

Whether it was my sense of direction, good luck, or a skill I’d developed, I usually was able to keep us true to the westerly direction I wanted to go in. But several factors over a few days had brought us a bit south of where I wanted to be. I’d perused my maps and talked it over with the Newtons, a ranching family we’d stayed with, and we had a route in mind that would angle us north and west. Following the directions Dave and Jeff Newton gave me had us sharing the road with traffic, and riding past car lots and fast-food restaurants. At a burger joint in Los Lunas, New Mexico, two reporters caught up to us, and I answered their questions while Rainy and Amanda, my horse and mule and Gypsy, my Collie-German_shepherd mix, and I took a break from the road. I held back a laugh when one reporter, nervously eyeing Rainy’s big head practically resting on the picnic table, asked “Uh, do they always stay right at the table with you when you eat?”

A few miles past Los Lunas the stores and commercial businesses dwindled. By late in the day, we’d completely left that world behind. My animals and I were back in the land of open space and sage brush, where there was no one around but us. The Newtons had described an old water tower to me, and I searched for it as we traveled along the lonely road. “Is it okay to camp there?” I’d asked, and they’d laughed. “Who’s going to bother you?” Mr. Newton had answered. “There’s no one out there.”

They’d spoken the truth. Right about when I began to feel the day should be winding down, I spied the top of the old water tower. We turned down a narrow path that led away from the road and down a sandy incline toward railroad tracks. There was a little hollow down the slope and the remains of an old fence leaned in along the tracks. I dismounted and began the little rituals that made a place feel like “our place” when we camped.

Like every day, the first thing I did was relieve Rainy and Amanda of their burdens. I wanted them to know their work was done and they could rest and relax. I took my saddle, the pack saddle, and the packs, and placed them around our camping spot. It created a curving boundary of sorts and became the outline of our home for the night. It made me feel less like we were small specks in the wide-open space. I fed the animals, opening little bags of sweet feed onto the ground. I stayed with them while they ate, scratching their itchy spots, and hugging their necks. I thanked them for all they’d done during the day.

Our spot was invisible from the road, and though that’s usually what I wanted, it somehow felt extra secluded by the water tank. I had that strange sensation that came with the feeling that not one person in the world knew where we were.

I slept restlessly and woke from a dream that involved a raft and a dark empty sea. I looked outside the tent and saw that Rainy and Amanda were near, staying close in the brushy area we’d claimed.

Late in the night, I woke again, this time to a noise that I should not have heard, tucked away in the desert gully by the unused railroad tracks. It was not wild animals or blowing wind that caused me to sit up and listen.

It was the unmistakable sound of revelry. The clink of bottles, the faint bass beat of music, the occasional smashing of glass and bursts of male laughter.

With a sharp intake of breath, I sat up and grasped the loose scruff of Gypsy’s neck in my hand. We both stayed still, straining our ears. I prayed, willing so hard that the partiers came no farther down the track. I prayed that Rainy wouldn’t neigh, that Amanda wouldn’t send her unusual bray/whinny out into the night. I listened to see if it sounded like those partiers were on the move. How many did it sound like? Were they a few innocent teens out for a clandestine six-pack, or a mob of nasty men, cruising the desert at night?

Gypsy and I sat that way, listening, for what seemed like a long while. My breath was shallow and my heart beat too fast.

Finally, there was the sound of a few more bottles breaking, the slap of a hand on a vehicle, and then the sound of car doors slamming and an engine starting up. At last, the noise faded into silence.

After a while, I allowed myself to lie back down. I dozed again, eventually, but it was the kind of sleep that had served my dog and horse companions and our ancient ancestors so well; sleep that was shallow, with senses still partly alert, tuned to catch the sound of danger in the night.

Order Distant Skies here.

This excerpt from Distant Skies by Melissa Chapman is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books.

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Misty also influenced and informed countless generations of horse-loving children who pilgrimaged with their parents to Chincoteague Island, Va., hoping to come home with a pony just like Misty. The book still inspires great numbers of people to travel to Chincoteague and perhaps even buy a pony of their own during the now-famous Pony Penning Week.

An Idea Is Born

Misty of Chincoteague had a simple origin story. Dr. Mary Alice Jones of Rand McNally, Marguerite’s editor, overheard a conversation while attending a dinner party. Jones listened in as a fellow dinner guest talked about an annual roundup of wild ponies on an island off the coast of Virginia. The ponies were herded into the water from their home on Assateague Island and swum across the channel to neighboring Chincoteague Island each July. There they were auctioned off, with all proceeds benefiting the Chincoteague Volunteer Fire Department.

Jones shared the information with Marguerite, who was immediately enthusiastic about writing a story about the event. Marguerite planned to visit the island and take a local Wayne horsewoman along with her. She also decided to invite her illustrator, Dennis Wesley, as he had moved from New York to Virginia and could capture the possible story in pictures while they were on the island. Dennis was immediately game to join the expedition. Many of his drawings in the book were from their experiences during that trip.

Marguerite booked a room at Miss Molly’s Inn on Main Street in Chincoteague for her first exploration of the island. During that first visit, Marguerite took endless notes as she and her travel companions spent days looking for wild ponies and talked with Chincoteague residents.

While she was walking around town, interviewing local townspeople, Marguerite happened upon two attractive teenagers named Maureen and Paul. It turned out that they lived with their grandparents, Clarence and Ida Beebe, on a ranch not far from Miss Molly’s Inn.

Grandpa Beebe was not only the owner of a pony ranch on Chincoteague, but he proved to be an invaluable source of information on the island and the history of the wild ponies. Beebe’s grandchildren, Paul and Maureen, helped train the ponies that he later sold.

When Marguerite met Maureen and Paul, they were riding the same pony bareback. She told them that she had come to the island to write a book about the wild ponies and Chincoteague Island, and perhaps one pony in particular—a gold-and-white foal she had seen and worried might be auctioned off.

“Suppose some parent with a clumsy clod of a child bought Misty in the auction tomorrow and had no idea of waiting until she grew strong enough to be ridden,” Marguerite frets in A Pictorial Life Story of Misty.

It was Clarence and Ida Beebe who helped move Marguerite’s story along—and who turned out to be critical to the book’s success, especially Grandpa Beebe’s idea that Paul and Maureen should feature as characters. Grandpa Beebe and Marguerite shook hands on a deal for the gold-and-white foal.

“There was no bill of sale. No bargaining. Just $150 offered and accepted,” Marguerite wrote in Pictorial.

Grandpa Beebe—“wiry, spry-legged as a grasshopper,” proved to be a brilliant find, and as charming as he was knowledgeable about both ponies and life. His grandchildren were the characters Marguerite needed at the center of her book, and his words were what lit up the pages.

Misty on the Mainland

Grandpa Beebe kept his word, and a few months later he shipped 4-month-old Misty to Marguerite in Wayne by way of a railroad box car. It was an arrangement that they had both agreed would only be temporary. Misty would live with Marguerite for as long as necessary to finish her book. It was an odd deal to make, but Grandpa Beebe felt the money paid for Misty would be useful for his grandchildren’s education. And of course, the plan was that Misty would eventually be returned to the Beebes where she would be trained to be ridden and someday bred.

When it was time for Misty to be shipped to Wayne, there was one obstacle: Marguerite didn’t have a barn. But her neighbors the Quayles did, and they offered its use. The Quayle children and their friends even helped to clean up the two-stall structure, especially eager to lend a hand when they heard that a wild pony from Virginia was about to arrive.

But when the “wild pony” arrived looking ragged and sad on a cold rainy day in November 1946, Marguerite had some serious misgivings. Misty had traveled four days by train and looked very much worse for wear. Marguerite was truly shocked at the sight of the filly.

When Misty stepped out of the rough crate that Grandpa Beebe had made, Marguerite thought the sorry-looking foal looked nothing like the gold-and-white pony she recalled seeing just a few months earlier on the island. Marguerite felt sorry for the cold, lonely pony and a bit guilty as well.

What had she done, taking the tiny foal so far from home? The author ended up spending the night in the Quayles’ stable with Misty, keeping the pony company and hoping that somehow the story she’d had in mind might still work out.

The next day dawned on a more promising note. When Misty awoke in the strange little barn, she gave Marguerite a kick while being led her out of her stall. Marguerite took this as a good omen.

Misty’s arrival in Wayne created quite a stir among the neighborhood.

“Children appeared as if by magic to help get her ready for her arrival. There were sisters Susie with her mop of dark curly hair and Judy with her flaxen braids; Tex, with the deep-set eyes; Eddie and Arthur like roly-poly pups,” Marguerite wrote.

These budding young equestrians grew up to be accomplished riders: Judy Martin became a top pony breeder and an alternate on the Olympic equestrian team, and the young Mary Jon “Jonnie” Quayle Edwards took up eventing and remained a serious rider all her life.

Now in her 80s, Edwards still teaches and rides almost every day. And, in her stable of horses there is a pinto pony—named Misty, of course. 

This excerpt from Dear Readers and Riders: A Biography (2024) is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books. For more information or to order the book, visit here.

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Skilled riding is often all it takes to improve a horse’s athleticism, performance, and overall well-being. But just as often, even good dressage-based training programs fail to fully root out the habits and patterns that prevent many horses from reaching optimal movement and correctness of their gaits.

Anything from a poorly fitting saddle to inconsistent exercise, an injury, or past postural imbalances can create compromises. These quickly become deeper impediments to a horse’s movement mechanics that persist even with good, regular riding schedules.

The body’s way of taking care of itself during physical imbalances is to put up defenses. These defenses take the form of muscular spasms, adhesions, restricted joint motion, and signals to and from the central nervous system to move differently.

Curing these defenses is not as simple as giving the horse a period of rest, though that can seem like a sensible solution. Putting a horse out in the field for a few months with the hope that everything will clear up rarely fixes the underlying problems.

Therapies like chiropractic care and massage are generally successful in releasing areas of immobility so the horse is able to move optimally. However, they only set the stage; they do not by themselves create healthy movement.

For that, the horse must be taken through exercises that habituate correct new patterns. This is where corrective exercises come in.

Let’s Go Galloping!

Galloping offers one of the most generally therapeutic exercises for a riding horse. It can release tension and stiffness in the horse’s back and hindquarters—sometimes more effectively than bodywork and stretches combined.

The classical masters of dressage often advised riders to take their horses for a brisk canter across the fields regularly because it’s one of the simplest tools to keep a horse tuned up with full, free range of motion.

Misunderstood nowadays as something that only applies to racehorses and eventing horses, galloping often fails to exist within the domain of most arena and recreational riders. And yet it helps cure rhythm irregularity in the gaits, a hollow back, and one-sidedness.

Galloping does not need to be an all-out, white-knuckled affair as some wary riders fear. It just needs to be a brisk version of cantering without holding the horse tightly with the reins.

Compared to other gaits, the galloping horse pushes himself forward with more powerful contractions of his back muscles. These forceful contractions are followed quickly by relaxation of the muscle fibers. The contraction/relaxation cycles prevent tension or stiffening of the horse’s long back muscles, which is often created by other work.

Horses that are able to canter briskly for a period each week, whether out in the field or around an arena, maintain better symmetry in the activation of their hind legs and more freedom through their back.

Start in the Arena

For those who are wary of their horse’s behavior when encouraged to canter quickly, or have other concerns such as the horse tripping, getting fatigued, or not steering very well, I recommend the following exercise.

While your horse will not be receiving the same benefits of a prolonged canter bout, you will lay a good foundation to get there soon. It is intended for the comfy confines of an arena or large enclosed area.

1. Shorten your stirrups by one or two holes. This helps you ride in a lighter seat up off the horse’s back.

2. After a normal warm-up, strike off in a canter.

3. Now come up in a half-seat, lighten the reins, and encourage your horse to move a little faster.

4. Try to travel around 10 miles per hour, not faster or slower. This is not an out-of-control speed, just a brisk effort.

5. Continue around the perimeter of the arena or on a very large circle (no smaller than 40 meters) for 30 seconds.

6. Take a short break by jogging around for 30 seconds.

7. Repeat this four times.

Once horses learn that galloping involves a fair amount of sustained work, it ceases to be thrilling. Horses that are initially excited or reactive about the freedom of galloping learn that it’s just another part of their work week, but you must help them get over that initial hurdle.

Use a watch for this exercise. Many riders don’t know what 30 seconds of galloping feels like, and they are prone to quit after a much shorter time.

Be sure to go at least 30 seconds—or longer—with each canter. This is the time you’ll need for your horse to settle into his strides for the right physiological response.

This excerpt from 55 Corrective Exercises by Jec Ballou is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books. This reprint originally appeared in the May 2024 issue of Horse Illustrated magazine. Click here to subscribe!

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The most basic assumption about riding a horse is to go, to move. But there is more to it: The horse needs to learn to move from a cue, and remain moving in a steady fashion of his own volition, in the gait and tempo we dictate, like a car in cruise control, until we tell him otherwise. 

To initially set a horse in motion, or move from the halt to the walk, most horses will spontaneously “go” as a result of a slight squeezing of both legs. Leg aids work because they touch and activate the horse’s abdominal muscles, which pull the hind legs forward and lift the back. 

You want to teach your horse to respond to subtle aids from the outset—quiet signals from the seat, weight, legs, hands, and voice. These are the “natural” aids that communicate with the horse. Whips and spurs are “artificial” aids that should only supplement or refine natural aids. 

It isn’t necessary to use sharp kicks as are so commonly employed. You don’t want to teach your horse that harsh or repeated aids, like pumping your seat or kicking, are the cue to go, or you will become tired and frustrated from doing that the rest of your riding life. Indeed, you will likely end up escalating your kicking or pumping as time goes by because your horse may wait to see whether you are finished, or when you finally give that last “hard enough” kick or push. In fact, pumping with your seat actually produces the opposite effect of what you want: the pressure causes the horse’s back to sink, his head to rise, his croup to rise, his front legs move out in front of him and his hind legs move out behind him, so that he becomes shaped like a trapezoid. His lowered back and belly actually prevent his hind legs from moving forward. 

Aids Inform the Horse—They Are Not the Moving Force

Consider riding aids to be a form of sign language in which gestures convey meaning; a specific bodily movement means “go.” Such a signal informs the horse to go; the application of the aid itself does not physically compel the body to move. When a horse understands, he will go. 

Because your horse only knows what you teach him, be judicious and show him what he is meant to do when you communicate with him through the use of an aid. Use specific and consistent aids for each response you seek. Apply a gentle aid and see whether you get the desired response. If not, be more aggressive for one try then return to the slight aid. Often, horses offer several simultaneous responses when given an aid, so eliminate everything but the response you want. Eventually, your horse will understand that that request is the one and only aid for one action—“one response for one aid.” 

As riding instructor Sharon Vander Ziel remarks, “People always say that a horse can feel a fly landing on him, but did you ever notice that horses ignore flies? They’ll ignore you, too!” This shrewd observation reminds us that everything doesn’t work perfectly or instantly with horses, so be patient, keep trying, and expect results in small increments. Ask gently. If you don’t get a response, ask bigger until you do, then return to the slight aid. 

Be Consistent

Many people don’t realize they routinely use random aids. For example, many who want to trot urge their horse forward, pumping and kicking, without thinking it through. When I ask students to tell me what they systematically did to ask their horse to trot, they often just stare at me, perplexed. Such inconsistency creates confusion in the horse and puts him in the position of having to guess what you are asking for. When he guesses wrong, he may be blamed for being disobedient. 

Be methodical and patient with giving only the cue that you want to use until you get the response that you seek. Remember that alphabet that dressage trainer Jane Savoie taught us: Think of giving aids like spelling a word—if you want your horse to trot, make sure you spell “t-r-o-t” the same way every time; don’t spell “k-i-w-i” one time, then spell “c-l-o-w-n” yet another. Giving aids in different combinations, or “spelling different words,” compels your horse to guess what you want, and aids should not be unanswerable multiple choice situations. 

The minute you turn the corner and decide to be 100 percent clear, precise, and consistent with your horse on everything, you’ll find your horse will better respond to your requests. It can help to think of the kata in martial arts: a kata refers to a prescribed, detailed pattern of specific, choreographed movements that are repeated under the eye of a master until the movements being executed are perfected. Experts say the purpose of kata is to train the muscles. By consistently doing the same motions, your brain will become more comfortable with lacing together combinations and turning and moving a certain way. Eventually, you will be able to habitually duplicate particular movements without conscious effort; it becomes “first nature”—something you “are” rather than something you “do.” If you bring the kata mentality to using your aids, your horse will never be confused about what you are telling him. It will be kata for him, too. The more deliberate you are, the happier you will be in the long run because you will have effectively installed the cue that you want to use.  

This excerpt from How to Ride the Horse You Thought You Bought by Anne Buchanan is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books.

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For successful saddle fitting, it is as important to address the dynamic stability of the rider as it is the horse. A horse should be able to perform at his best without discomfort. The same is true for a rider.

Some elements make it more challenging when evaluating a rider’s fit in the saddle in any English discipline, whether it is dressage, jumping, trail riding, or another activity. The following are just a few tricky issues that saddle fitters run across:

◆ There is often a mismatch between a rider’s perception and reality because human cognitive sensory information relies on patterns. As an example, if a rider regularly sits to the right side of the horse whenever mounted, the brain believes this position is correct and straight. In brief, the rider’s perception of her position and actions in the saddle is frequently inaccurate! As a result of this perception, when asked what kind of saddle fit a rider “likes,” the rider will usually “like what she knows,” versus “knowing what she likes.” We humans like familiarity, even when it is damaging.

◆ A rider may believe her horse’s lameness or movement issue is due to a problem with the horse, even though the horse doesn’t appear lame until the rider mounts up. Rider-influenced causes tend to go unnoticed, and instead we focus on the horse when we should be addressing the rider’s issues, or a problem with the fit of the equipment used.

◆ Riders, particularly more advanced riders, regularly ride through physical pain. That pain causes distortion of their position and compensatory movement. Rider compensations, often enacted unconsciously, occur to maximize the rider’s own comfort and effectiveness, but they typically affect the movement of the horse in a detrimental way.

◆ There is not much consistency in the education of riders today, particularly in the United States, where a standardized curriculum does not exist. Theories and techniques are mostly up to individual trainers, with little commonality between trainers, and we do not have a precise standardized terminology with which to teach riders.

◆ Amateur riders generally spend most of their time in non-riding activities. Many of those activities undermine the symmetry that is so important to riding. For example, static positions assumed while driving a car or sitting at a computer all day create stiffness and asymmetry in the body, and weakness of the core muscles. It is clear that horses develop a locomotor strategy to compensate for such inconsistency and rigidity in the rider. The outcome of rider asymmetry, such as significantly weighting one stirrup more than the other, pulling on one rein (thus using one seat bone more than the other), or collapsing through one side all causes the saddle to compress more on the weighted side and shift to the weighted side compromising the horse’s spine, and can deform the shape of the panels, as well as cause compensatory movement in the horse.

All the rider considerations just listed come into play when addressing saddle fit. Ground reaction force (GRF) from the horse’s hooves contacting the ground come up through his limbs while the pressure of the rider pushes downward on the horse’s back. The saddle sits in the middle. Consider a right-hand-dominant rider—that rider is likely stronger throughout her right side. In response, her horse may then brace through his ribcage on the right side, causing the saddle to collapse and deform on that side, or push sideways and shift more to the left. Either way, the result is crooked.

The amount of pressure from the rider on the horse’s back increases with speed of locomotion:

◆ Walk: Pressure is equal to the weight of the rider.

◆ Trot: Pressure is two to three times the weight of the rider.

◆ Canter: Pressure is three to four times the weight of the rider.

With these numbers in mind, it is clear that at the walk, a crooked rider has less negative impact on a horse’s back than at the trot and canter. Forces from the rider are increased in those faster gaits, as well as when jumping. The more suspension the horse has—the more bounce in the gaits—the greater the pressure from the rider. And it is also increased when the rider is stiff, unbalanced, or uncoordinated.

As equine athleticism increases through selective breeding, effective and balanced riding is much more challenging. It follows that there must be a change in the style of modern saddles to address the needs of the rider. As little as 30 to 40 years ago, jumping, dressage, and English-style trail saddles were essentially flat in the seat with very little, if any, knee roll. Now, saddles tend to have a deeper seat, larger knee rolls, sticky leather, and everything but a seat belt to keep riders more secure. This is particularly influenced by the number of amateur riders entering the market with a healthy budget for saddles with attributes that will help them achieve their goals on expensive, athletic horses.

When the seat of the saddle becomes deeper, with defined spots for the seat bones and knee rolls that control rider leg position, it is very easy to damage the rider if the saddle is not fit correctly—to both her and her horse. Anatomical features of each rider have to be recognized and understood when choosing a new saddle, or when achieving and maintaining balance in an existing saddle.

This excerpt from The Illustrated Guide to Saddle Fitting by Beverly Harrison is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books.

The post Is Your Saddle Making You Ride Badly? appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.

One of the truths I learned from Bobbi Steele was that the longer you take to train a horse, the longer he will last. The more shortcuts you try, the longer it will actually take to train him. We all get in a hurry. It’s a natural human impulse, and it’s probably more common now in today’s hectic world.

When I was learning from Ms. Steele, I would go home and try all the lessons on my ponies and horses. When I asked them to do something sooner than they were capable, it would set them back and it would ultimately take me longer to train them.

What I had to learn was that when you improve something even by small amounts, you are making progress. By taking your time, you may not be teaching the horse “more,” but you are developing the horse’s body, joints, and athleticism to eventually be able to perform more challenging tasks with ease and balance.

Knowing When to Slow Down

When I called Carol Harris, owner of Rugged Lark and other horses I had the honor of training, most of the time I was excited to tell her about her horses’ progress. I learned from her, too—to be honest and tell of difficult times, as she understood the process and would always have valuable suggestions.

When I told her that Lark was not doing something so well and I wasn’t sure why, Carol always said that when faced with challenges, “Do nothing! Just spend time with him, graze him, turn him out, trail ride, and just let it go.”

A few days later, I would return to training with Lark, ask him the same questions and try the same tasks, and he would do them willingly.

There were other times that this was different: Lark retained lessons like no other horse I ever had. I had to be careful to go slowly so he would learn to relax, be confident, and most importantly, trust me. I had to say to Rugged Lark, “You are not supposed to do this so well yet …” and, like during the challenging times, I would stop my lesson and go trail ride or put him away for the day. Just “doing nothing,” taking a break, and coming back and sticking to basics was always the best advice.

I had the privilege of training Rugged Lark as a 2- and 3-year-old, and in 1985 we had a great year showing. He was 4 years young and won his first AQHA World Championship Show Superhorse title.

With a foundation of classical dressage training principles, Rugged Lark was becoming exceptional, and he was in training for eight different disciplines. He competed in reining, western riding, trail, hunter under saddle, working hunter, hunter hack, western pleasure, and pleasure driving. He was a true example of the AQHA motto: The World’s Most Versatile Horse.

The second Superhorse title was not as easy as in 1985, as “it is always harder to stay on the top than it is reaching it.” After winning the second title, I surprised Carol during the presentation of the Superhorse award.

By that time, I had played a little with riding bridleless, which Ms. Steele had taught me back in Sarasota, but Carol didn’t know yet. I rode Lark into the arena without a bridle and trotted, cantered, did flying lead changes and a reining spin, and the crowd went crazy!

Our spontaneous performance led to 10 fabulous years of bridleless exhibitions at all the major equine events in the United States.

The Art of Doing Nothing

I can’t emphasize enough the importance of knowing when to “do nothing” when working with horses.

To me, this means turnout. All my horses, all my life have had turnout time that allowed them to be themselves in their natural environment. Horses have to graze, move around in an open area, and have room to buck and play. And, most importantly, they need to have lots of room to roll.

Keeping a horse in a stall most of his life will always bring out habits, many likely unwanted, that under “normal horse circumstances” he would not have. Ms. Steele impressed upon me, again and again, “How would you act if you were put in a room with four walls and a small window and had to stay in there for hours, days, weeks?” All of us would be thinking about how to get out of that room. The horse, too!

Even when my horses have had lameness issues or sickness, they are turned out if at all possible. When a horse has surgery and has to be confined for some time for healing, I am a stickler for finding out how many times a day and for how long the horse can be hand-walked.

“Downtime”—in the form of turnout—is necessary for a young horse in training who seems fatigued or needs fewer training days and more “free-play” days. Turnout is also the answer for the horse who is making lots of mistakes or is inconsistent in his training (not retaining his lessons).

Turnout is for the horse who has just traveled a lot, been competed over a number of weeks or months, or ridden on the trail for many miles. Turnout will help the horse who has lameness or sickness issues.

How long should a horse in one of these scenarios have off with nothing but turnout? The horse will tell you. It may be, in the case of a trainable horse, just a few days. In other situations, it may be a week, two weeks, a month, or even longer.

How do you know if the downtime has been long enough? When you start the horse back in work, how does he feel? Does he have good energy? Is he willing? Is he trying?

When the answer is yes, the amount of downtime was good for that horse. If you start back in work and your horse seems frustrated, resistant, or unwilling, the horse needs more time as you figure out what you need to do differently.

Consult your trainer, veterinarian, and farrier—your “team” players. Have a friend record a video of you working with your horse and share it with your team to get their help finding possible answers to any problems, as well as guidance as to what you can do differently. This is how you can accomplish positive training.

Remember, it never always goes perfectly! You have to have challenges to have success.

Time Together That’s Not “Work Time”

Turnout isn’t the only way to rest the horse and “do nothing.” Other “nothings” are ways you spend valuable time in your horse’s company, free of the expectations of training and showing.

I call this my list of “justs”—because we always want to do more, but sometimes, we should just do this:

• Just hand-graze your horse and spend time with him. (And that doesn’t mean making phone calls or scrolling through social media. Really be with him.)
• Just give your horse a thorough grooming session and treats.
• Just bathe your horse.
• Just take your horse on a relaxed, walk-only trail ride.
• Just do something different with your horse. Take him swimming!
• Just take him for a ride in the trailer to somewhere new and hand-graze him when you get there. (No riding!)
• Just take your horse on a walk in-hand around your property or on the trail.
• Just ground-drive your horse, or teach him how to pull a cart.
• Just let your horse be a horse!

Cross-Training for Longevity

Rugged Painted Lark (“Bruce”) arrived at Palm Equestrian Academy at Fox Grove Farm as a very bold yearling colt in 1998. After he began his training in dressage principles and groundwork, he traveled with us to summer at our farm in Michigan each year while also beginning reining and roping training with Ted Chancey in Florida, Sandy Collier on the West Coast, and Bobby Lewis in Texas. In between, he was jumping and learning to drive.

Because he was such a macho stallion, we focused on working cow horse and roping. He did well as he came along and never forgot the dressage basics that I started him with.

Even though I moved more quickly than I might have with another young horse, I didn’t take shortcuts. He was a horse with smarts and confidence, and so was able to quickly master lessons.

Bruce was soon doing canter pirouettes and tempi lead changes, and being ridden bridleless. His looks and performances got him featured on book and magazine covers, in television shows and commercials, and as an entertainer at numerous equine events.

At the age of 22, Bruce got to show off his years of dressage training with a fabulous freestyle at the 2019 Western Dressage Association of America World Show. In his last appearance at age 23, he could still delight audiences, appearing at Equitana USA.

Longevity Training What these horses, and others, have proven to me is that training for longevity is always worth it in the long run. And it doesn’t have to be hard. Just keep these principles in mind: 1. Vary your training each day or two. Cross-train with under-saddle training aimed toward the goals for the horse: groundwork, riding bridleless, trail obstacles, hill training for fitness, and swimming, if possible. I like to teach my horses to drive, too. 2. Don’t drill your horse. It’s true that horses learn through repetition; however, if you drill (for example, ride 20 circles without stopping), you will eventually lose the willingness of your horse. Horses hate drilling! Keep your horse interested in his lesson by changing directions (lateral suppleness) and doing transitions (longitudinal suppleness). Minding this Golden Rule will also help you develop your horse’s concentration for longer sessions over a period of time. Changing direction and doing transitions often teaches the rider to think: Think “in front of the horse,” think about being confident, and think about riding with accuracy and precision. 3. Train “outside the box.” An arena or a confined area is the place to teach the horse something for the first time. When he understands and can manage the skill, do it “outside the box” where there are new challenges, as the horse’s instincts kick in and he becomes more aware of his environment and on high alert. I learned over time that it was harder to have a horse do the same task well outside an arena. I trained my first National and World Champion in the woods of northern Wisconsin for the three months leading up to the competition. My horse was very confident in the ring! 4. Listen to your horse. If your horse challenges you, he is trying to tell you something. Use your common sense and try to understand what he could be saying. Figure out what you can try to do differently to get a better result. I always start with a check-in with correct rider position. I know my position weaknesses and try to stop them from happening. Position problems can be as simple as looking down at your horse—when you do this, you will be late to direct him with your aids, and this will frustrate him. 5. Turn your horse out daily and give him at least one day off per week.

Lessons in Longevity

To me, longevity is about the length of time a horse has quality of life and you have quality of life together. Horses don’t need to be “fried” mentally by the age of 3 or broken down physically by the age of 5.

We have the experience and the veterinary, farrier, and bodywork care that should ensure many years of active partnership in whatever disciplines we choose.

My understanding of how important the “big picture” is in a horse’s training (rather than just immediate goals) has built over a lifetime of experience with many different horses. These are just a few of the lessons I’ve learned about variety in training, patience, and listening to each individual horse.

This excerpt from Finding Your Superhorse: 8 Keys to Developing the Horse That’s Just Right for You by Lynn Palm with Rebecca M. Didier and Marie-Frances Davis appeared in the January/February 2024 issue of Horse Illustrated magazine. Click here to subscribe!

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Horses are naturally equipped to handle the colder months; summer heat tends to cause them more trouble than winter temperatures. As soon as the days begin to shorten in the fall, hormones responsible for coat growth kick into action by beginning to produce longer and thicker hair as well as a thicker undercoat. In addition to daylight, temperature plays a role: thermoreceptors will perceive a cold autumn and trigger the growth of a thicker coat. If a horse is kept indoors or blanketed, horses adapt by producing less winter fur.

As soon as the days begin to lengthen in December, horses will stop producing warmer coats, even if January brings extreme cold. This isn’t something to worry about, as horses who have spent the seasons in the same place will have a well-established coat—even a sudden hard frost won’t be an issue. (This is why it’s best to transition a horse from an indoor situation to your outdoor stabling in spring or summer.) However, it’s important to have well-fitting blankets on hand in case a horse develops a problem regulating his temperature due to illness. I’m not a fan of preventative blanketing for outdoor horses, but this doesn’t excuse irresponsibility. Each horse should have at least one insulated blanket and a waterproof sheet, even if they both gather dust for years. At the end of the day, it’s better to have an unnecessary blanket in your closet than to have a shivering, wet horse out in a blizzard. Calling a vet at night is a much greater inconvenience and expense than finding good blankets for your horses.

One of the most frequently asked questions in the early days of outdoor horse keeping was whether horses were cold living out in the winter, and the answer, more often than not, was: they’re horses, not people… they’re fine! But many caretakers, especially with purebred horses, saw the exact opposite: simply put, their horses were cold. It doesn’t always require the coldest temperatures, but sometimes just a quick drop from warm to cool. Cold, wet weather can really have an impact on a horse’s well-being. Wild animals have far more options when it comes to finding shelter from the wind and cold. They can find shrubs, tree cover, or uneven terrain to protect them from wind gusts.

Maintaining an optimal body temperature is an absolute necessity for any warm-blooded organism. A constant body temperature ensures the normal functioning of bodily processes. The heat that a horse receives from his environment, together with the heat he produces, must be in equilibrium with output. If this equilibrium is disturbed, overheating or excessive cooling can make a horse very uncomfortable and even quite sick.

A horse’s muscle mass is excellent at retaining the heat produced by processes like digestion (fermentation of fiber in the intestines) and producing heat through exercise. A horse’s core isn’t subject to temperature changes based on his surroundings (because horses are warm-blooded), but the peripheral parts of the body (ears, hooves, skin) behave much like a cold-blooded animal’s would: they partially adjust to the ambient temperature, helping to maintain a stable core temperature. This is why you can’t tell whether a horse is cold by feeling his ears!

Temperature Management

Horses are excellent at regulating blood flow in the subcutaneous vascular network, which significantly influences temperature management of the entire body. Heat loss can be managed by vasoconstriction: blood flow is reduced in areas where blood would be cooled by being close to the surface of the skin. Horses are also able to cool off through vasodilation: by expanding these same blood vessels, surface contact is maximized and excess heat is transferred through the skin.

Skin, subcutaneous tissue, and fat act as powerful insulators. For this reason, it’s a good idea to have horses go into the winter season with a few fat reserves—they will be far less bothered by the cold than a skinny or underweight horse.

Also, a well-made shelter can help protect a horse from the worst weather—an animal protected by a shelter can save up to 25 percent more energy reserves than an unprotected one. This is no small thing on difficult days! Horses that aren’t as cold on a windy, heat-robbing day will consume hay at a more relaxed pace as well, saving some strain on your wallet. A well-thought-out shelter, whether you build new or rebuild by converting an existing building, is an investment which will pay you back over time.

Shivering

Some take a shivering horse as the definitive signal that it’s time to blanket. Others believe that because shivering produces heat, the horses are warming themselves and are actually fine. So what’s the real story?

Peripheral thermoreceptors are activated by the skin becoming cold. As soon as a horse’s usual defenses fail to maintain a comfortable temperature—hair bristling (increasing the coats’ ability to insulate against the cold) and vasoconstriction (narrowing of the subcutaneous blood vessels)—the horse will begin to shiver. Using muscle tremors, the body will be able to increase heat production by about 30 percent. But there’s a catch—this only works for a short time, and it uses a great deal of energy.

Unfortunately, the first horses to begin shivering are usually somehow compromised: skinny, sick, old, or recovering from illness or injury. These horses are the ones with the smallest energy reserves, but even a fat, healthy horse can’t produce heat for long by shivering—the energy necessary for such demanding work is exhausted early. Although the body has other defenses against the cold as well (accelerated metabolism, for example), their effectiveness is limited. Shivering should be considered a sign that your horse is headed toward hypothermia—don’t take it lightly.

Tip: If you aren’t sure whether your horse is cold, place a hand by the elbow of a front leg. If this area is cold, your horse is cold enough that he’s uncomfortable.

This excerpt from Keeping Horses Outdoors by Iveta Jebáčková-Lažanská is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books.

The post Is My Horse Cold? – An Excerpt from Keeping Horses Outdoors by Iveta Jebáčková-Lažanská appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.

Welcome to Barn Banter, the official podcast of Horse Illustrated. In Barn Banter episode 23, hosts Susan Friedland and Horse Illustrated Editor In Chief Holly Caccamise talk with Sydney Collier and Heather Wallace, co-authors of Beyond Expectations. To end the episode, they chat with Allison Anderson, a volunteer with Horse and Hound Rescue Foundation, about this month’s ASPCA Right Horse adoptable horse, A Lot of Heat.

Click to listen on mobile.

Listen to Barn Banter episode 23 now to hear about Sydney and Heather’s journey with Beyond Expectations.

Title Sponsor of Barn Banter: Adequan

Big thanks to our sponsor, Adequan! For over 30 years, Adequan® i.m. (polysulfated glycosaminoglycan) has been trusted by veterinarians, trainers and horse owners. Ask your veterinarian if Adequan® is right for your horse. Visit Adequan.com to learn more. Adequan®. Start with it. Stay with it®.

Sydney Collier and Heather Wallace, co-authors of Beyond Expectations

Shortly after Sydney Collier began riding at age seven, she was diagnosed with the rare Wyburn-Mason Syndrome, a life-threatening condition that causes arteries and veins to grow together, causing arteriovenous malformations (AVMs) in the brain. Years of experimental treatment and a resulting massive stroke took a toll on her body, but she never relinquished the dream of returning to the saddle and the sport that she loved.

Her belief and perseverance earned her a spot on the U.S. Para Dressage Team at age 16, and Sydney was the youngest competitor at the 2014 World Equestrian Games in France. At age 18, she won the 2016 U.S. Para Dressage National Championships and became the youngest equestrian member in the Rio de Janeiro 2016 Paralympics as a part of Team USA, placing seventh overall in her division. In addition to her Paralympic goals, Sydney has dedicated her life to service and maintains a busy schedule that includes athletic training, equestrian training, guest speaking, volunteering, babysitting, and giving riding demonstrations at a variety of events.

She graduated DeVry University on an Olympic scholarship, majoring in communications and is currently working to finish her MBA, specializing in marketing, thanks to a scholarship from the United States Olympic Committee. Sydney has been awarded the FEI Against All Odds Award, USEF Junior Equestrian of the Year, and The Captain Andrew B. De Szinay Memorial Sportsman Trophy. She was featured in the 2022 feature documentary ParaGold, directed by Ron Davis, which follows the lives of four Paralympic equestrian hopefuls as they vie for a spot on the U.S. Paralympic Dressage Team. Sydney is based in Wellington, Florida, where she is working to earn a place on the next team and help the USA stand on the medal podium.

Heather Wallace is the award-winning author of the books Confessions of a Timid Rider, Adulting with Horses, and Girl Forward: A Tale of One Woman’s Unlikely Adventure in Mongolia. In addition, she publishes a popular blog called The Timid Rider and co-hosts the podcast Adulting with Horses. By day, Heather is a certified equine and canine sports massage therapist dedicated to helping animals holistically. She lives in New Jersey with her family, dogs, and horses.

Both ladies will be at Equine Affaire Massachusetts Nov. 7-10 to sign copies of Beyond Expectations. Don’t miss meeting them if you’re at this event!

◆ Purchase a copy of Beyond Expectations from Trafalgar Square Books
◆ Sydney’s website
◆ Heather Wallace’s blog, The Timid Rider
◆ Follow Sydney on Instagram (@sydsparaquest)
◆ Follow Heather on Instagram (@timidrider)

A Lot of Heat, Adoptable Horse of the Month

A Lot of Heat is a striking 6-year-old Thoroughbred gelding with a heart of gold and a promising future ahead. Having been responsibly retired and deemed sound, Heat is now embarking on a new chapter of his life filled with love, care, and endless possibilities. Learn more about A Lot of Heat here.

In addition to Barn Banter episode 23, you can check out all previous episodes of Horse Illustrated’s podcasts.

The post Barn Banter – Episode 23: Sponsored by Adequan appeared first on Horse Illustrated Magazine.

Why is the mental state of the human so important to a sport commonly calculated as 80 percent horse? Because just as horses feel fear, tension, and anxiety, so too do they feel a confident rider with clear intent. Being present and calm, staying with your breath, and having a positive attitude about your objectives gives your horse an advantage.

Regardless of which horse sport you compete in, winning is the preferred goal. But it is typically nowhere in my own preparatory thoughts. In fact, the less I think about results, the better I can play. If result-oriented expectations do arise pre-competition, I enjoy the good ones, let the not-so-good ones slip away, and trust that when I begin playing, all expectations will disappear.

The line of questioning that most inspired me was something called the four resonance questions, developed by the sports psychologist Doug Newburg:

1. “What feelings do you seek to experience in your sport?”

2. “What prepares you to experience these feelings?”

3. “What prevents these feelings from occurring?”

4. “How can you get these feelings back when they are lost?”

Sorting through my answers to these questions, I was eventually able to articulate my “dream” in my sport. Although I wrote the following passage when I was 10 goals and 39 years old, most of it still holds true for me today:

The fall season has come and gone—some good, some bad. The other day I found a quote in a book—Close Range by Annie Proulx—which I had underlined years ago. It inspired me. Here is what it said about the “rough, bruising life” of a young rodeo rider: “…when he got on there was the dark lightning in his gut, a feeling of blazing real existence.”

This rings true for me. The dream for my polo is that feeling of blazing real existence. It makes me feel alive. One way that it blazes is that my senses are wide open when playing, totally perceptive, and acutely sensitive. Maybe it’s adrenaline, maybe it’s the sense of challenge about using my skills toward a contest. Perhaps it’s my “love-hate” relationship toward competitive situations—“Who is better?” Whatever, why-ever, I know that my gut blazes and I get that feeling of aliveness.

My dream is to find this feeling of intensity and sensory connection when I am playing my game. I can even learn to appreciate it (enjoy it?) while it’s there, and not only after the event. I reach this state through giving it my all; through thinking good thoughts, which enhance my confidence and ability to play well. Perhaps the stars just lined up correctly? This is the challenge: getting myself to this state of being. And it is another state of being—one of total awareness. I’m acting by “letting go” and letting my body lead. I’m not looking much at other players (teammates, opponents) or umpires. I’m trusting the strength of my horses; they feel a part of me. I may have a short outburst at an ump or opponent, but my anger quickly dissolves because there is no time. I have the next play to execute or prepare for. I am in it. My mind is comfortably locked on my objectives. These are simple and clear.

I am human and unnecessary thoughts do arise, even during best-best performances: “Geez, I’m playing one of my best games ever!” “I missed those two goals, I really want to finish my next chance—who’s watching?” “I hope we win this one, I just got out-dueled.” These thoughts are there, but when I’m living my dream and playing from my gut, I can deal with them. I recognize that it’s okay to have them—everybody does—and bring myself back to my breath, my tree, or my “next play” mantra. Sometimes, when the feeling doesn’t come easily in a particular match, the best technique is to try to “just be there,” with a calm mind, and trust that the game will get into me. That can be enough. It allows the sport to bring out my instincts, my anticipation, and hopefully my total connection with my horses and what I am doing. Outside the parameters of my field, good things come—accolades, money, team offers—because of my connection inside that field, and because of my mindset, which ironically has a lot to do with not caring what people think outside the boards. Even my goals of playing at the highest level of the sport for a long time, of being a great 10-goal player, of fulfilling my potential, are really things outside the boards. What is inside is that emotion of blazing real existence. Visit this often, go for it, and if it’s meant to be, my goals will take care of themselves.

My dream is to immerse in the feelings of intensity that I get from playing the game. I put myself in the most competitive situations possible because these challenges bring the “lightning in my gut.” Love-hate it may be, but these big feelings are my dream. They exist because I care.

I believe competition is a time to emphasize our strengths, to focus on positive things in our control, to trust and play. This is the best way I’ve found for putting expectations to the side, letting go, and enjoying the performance. Famous dance choreographer Alvin Ailey said that “freedom comes through discipline.” The discipline to prepare to the teeth, gives us the freedom to perform all out, thought-free.

I have come to believe that our mood, too, is in our control. Being positive simply means that you see the choices in front of you. We may sense that we woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or that our warm-up was a disaster, but it is usually possible to find (or invent) a positive lining—“bad rehearsal means good performance”—and shift focus onto the little things within our control. “What do I love about my sport?” is a question I ask myself before entering the competitive arena. For me: I love the ball, the teamwork, and the feel of the horse under me.

Free yourself of result-oriented thoughts, and bring your awareness into the present. Feel your calming breath flowing in and out, see the texture of the footing, hear the cadence of your horse’s stride. With your senses wide awake, and in the here and now, execute the task at hand to the best of your ability. Trust yourself. Trust your horse. Put your focus on the doing. After all, as Chungliang Al Huang and Jerry Lynch say in Thinking Body, Dancing Mind, “Focusing on the moment-by-moment joy and elation of the event will usually be reflected in winning outcomes.”

This excerpt from Winning with Horses is reprinted with permission from Trafalgar Square Books. Get a copy here. This is a web exclusive for Horse Illustrated magazine.

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