Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Perseverance or Just Plain Dangerous

Unfortunately it seems like the past few weeks in my horse-y network have been rife with stories of injuries, accidents, and other misfortunes at the hands (hooves?) of horses... And thus I've been re-inspired to update my blog, pertaining to something I've pondered for awhile... When does determination, or "love" for an animal turn in to selfishness, or just down right danger?

Just about every horse person you meet will tell you, they understand injuries are probably inevitable when it comes to the horse world, but we do it for the love of the horse.... All the fantastic rides, all the breakthroughs, all that we learn about ourselves, and just the down right good feeling we get around a horse makes it worth the risk. Personally, I ride because when I'm on a horse, it's the only place I've found that nothing in the world matters, except the animal underneath me. Any problems, worries, emotions and even physical pain, melt away the second I hit the saddle and I'm 100% engulfed in what the horse is thinking, feeling, about to do next, and what I'm trying to accomplish with that ride. 

I've observed countless friends, clients, and acquaintances over the years with the "wrong" (in my eyes anyways) horse for them. And they've all told me something to the extent of "I love this horse. I'm not giving up on them. I want to put the work in to "fix" them and make this work." While I can respect and admire perseverance, I ponder frequently, at what point does it become too dangerous? At what point is it unfair, or selfish, to expect an animal to completely alter their personality or way of being to suit our needs? And furthermore, at what point is it no longer fun and rewarding, to have an animal that you are constantly having World War Three with and is inevitably going to hurt you, however serious or minimal? Now, I'll be the first to admit, I've had plenty of pairs come into my barn that I thought, "there is no way in hell this is going to work, this is a terrible match," and have been proved wrong to the tune of happy horse and rider gallivanting all over creation. Surely putting in consistent efforts with training, lessons, and just plain old time in the barn, DOES pay off, and it's even more rewarding in the end, knowing you put all that work in. But where does it cross the line? What is "the line"? I have no freaking idea....

I guess part of it comes down to the difference between an overtly aggressive animal vs. an animal that is simply above the skill level of it's handler. In the case of an aggressive animal, I wonder at what point are we doing more damage to the horse trying to "fix" it, than we would to allow it some sort of sanctuary (whether that be a literal sanctuary where they can live out their days without potentially dangerous interactions with others, or the more metaphorical take on "sanctuary," euthanasia)? Never mind the fact that continuing to "pass the buck," so to speak, will potentially put more people in harms way? In the case of an animal that is just poorly matched with it's owner, at what point do you step back and remind yourself you're doing this for fun, to release stress, feel good, and NOT to come to the barn to have a fight or be scared every time? Or when does it become just plain unsafe? When does your "love" for this animal become more important than your health or even potentially your life? And is it selfish to expect this horse to morph into the creature you need it to be, to suit your desires and abilities?

Having been on the wrong side of two hind hooves myself a year or two ago, spending 2 weeks in the hospital, and another month on bed-rest has given me an even deeper respect and understanding than I ever did I think, of just how powerful the animals we choose to work around are. To put it simply the experience was quite humbling. I don't have the answers to all these questions, or probably even half of them. And I can absolutely respect that each and every person regardless of their extent of involvement with horses will have a different answer.

What I learned from my accident is to trust my gut more often. Be willing to admit when you're feeling you're dealing with a horse that could be potentially dangerous to you, regardless of whether that feeling is justified or not. Be humble and not be afraid to ask for help, for someone else's opinion, or just plain out of the situation. While it sucks that it took a broken shoulder blade, lacerated spleen, collapsed lung, and a few separated ribs, for me to come to some of these realizations, I'd be lieing if I said I would have come to them without the help of a delightful warmblood mare.

So whats my point anyways?? My advice (not that you asked for it) is to take the time to step back, look at the relationship with the horse(s) in your life and ask your self those questions. I guess there really is no "right" answer. I think what's most important is that you're willing to challenge yourself by asking, and answer yourself with conviction.