“If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride”.
As a child, all my wishes were for horses. All my dreams and all my games involved horses, and all my wishes were horses and all my prayers were for a horse of my own (just in case there was a kind deity out there who could dish out real life miracle horses).
If wishes were horses, then I would have ridden every single day of my childhood.
I did OK. I had some riding lessons aged 7, which stopped pretty quickly once my mum realised that this inconvenient obsession would not be cured by increased exposure. The bus to secondary school passed an equestrian centre, as well as Mill Hill Boys School. While all my friends were getting off the bus to flirt with real boys, I was racing down to the stables, mucking out in return for the privilege of a fleeting bareback ride, bringing the horses in from the field.
If wishes were horses…I wrote poems about horses, practised drawing horses, covered every exercise book with doodles of horses’ heads.
If wishes were horses, I would have had a full stable!
I wonder how the books we chose shaped our equestrian dreams?
I read/devoured/memorised the Colt from Snowy River series, the Black Stallion series, the Thunderhead trilogy, the Shantih series. My horsey idols all lived out, in fields on the moors, or on the range, were often ridden bareback, had their natural instincts and characters kept intact, and seemed to have a mystical connection with their human hero/ine.
I dreamed of jumping, and galloping, mane and hair flowing in the wind, communicating by mind meld, not of fighting, or struggling, or arguing with my horse to achieve results.
I didn’t dream of rosettes, or winning. Just of being out with my horses, day after day, enjoying freedom and fun.
My mum took me to see the Spanish Riding School in London in the 80s. In those days, they were still the bastion of correct classical training. The advanced work looked effortless, the horses appeared magical, the synergy between horse and rider invisible. Years later, when I started competing, and having ‘proper’ lessons, the difference between what I had seen that evening and what I was being told to do seemed completely incongruous.
I didn’t dream of pulling my horse’s head in, of making him rounder, of making him submissive. I had dreamed of a willing partner, of being able to ride with my seat, without force, without pain.
I didn’t dream of whipping my horse to make him do something. The theory that your horse needs to be more scared of you than of the fence is just nonsense. I want my horses to trust me, so when they see a scary fence they check in, ask is it OK, and then go for it because I say we can. And after good training, I want my horses to be so confident that when they see a scary fence, it isn’t scary because they have seen similar stuff before, been allowed to work it out, and learned that they can. In the long run, I want my horse to be saying “it’s OK mum, I’ve got this, let’s go”. We don’t get to that point by force, but by education.
Anna Blake wrote a fabulous blog about that process
https://annablakeblog.com/2018/03/09/the-middle-path-peaceful-persistence/
Anna writes with a lot of wisdom: her blogs contain life lessons as well as horse lessons. Most of us need life lessons first 😉
And most horse lessons are life lessons, in the end.
I do ride with a schooling whip, as did the masters, for communication to say “this hip”, “this shoulder”, “lift your belly”, or to see “hey, I’m talking to you”. A whip is never to be used for punishment, never against the horse. It’s a communication device, for very specific aiding moments.
‘Aider’- verb, French- to help, assist, support, to help to do
That’s what the aids should be…
I also do lots of exercises where the whips are used as flags in my hands to show floppy wrists, or held down behind a straight back. My horses tolerate all sorts of waving whips around, because they know the whip won’t hurt them, and also because they know intent. They know when the whip is something to do with them: pointing at a particular body part during in hand work for example, or when the whip is absolutely nothing to do with them.
I do also wear spurs, but again they are for refinement. I have done years of work on my legs, with many more years to go, so that I can give an aid for energy with the inside of my foot, not my heel or calf. That means I can use my spurs for specific aids- currently “Cal, lift your belly!” I am nowhere perfect- our work as a rider is never done, but I can choose, leg or spur?
I do jump in spurs, but was surprised to find that cross country times became much more achievable once I loosened my legs and learned to balance on my legs not grip with my calves. Cal’s hindleg could then come forward into the space allowed, his stride got longer and smoother, and hey presto, the magnificent half draught learned to gallop.
When I recall my early reading choices, It’s no surprise our horses live out, unrugged, in a herd, with their key needs catered for #friendsforagefreedom.
And a dog. Every horse should have a pet dog😂.
Our horses have 6 acres, so cannot be described as free range, but they have as much freedom and movement and equine free time as we can allow them. As well as ample forage, a field with an increasing number of plants, grasses and herbs to choose from, and plenty of life to watch.
l’m not trying to tell anyone how to do things- we all find our own path and our own compromises. And we should all continue learning and examining our “truths” every day.
But what I would ask is that you look back to your childhood dreams of horses and just reflect on how close you are to those ideals? Did your wishes turn into the horses you dreamed of? Did the horses turn into happy, healthy, willing partners?
And did you turn into the owner your horse would dream of?
Would your horse pick you?
Lilly is about to start riding lessons, at a local riding school where children aren’t given whips. I look forward to hearing about the ethical riding lessons as she learns the basics, properly.
Another ethical establishment – East Devon Riding Academy- blog regularly about their approach to teaching children the joys of horsemanhip.
http://www.ridingacademy.co.uk
Because who remembers falling in love with horses and then somehow, along the way, we are taught that it is OK to hit them, OK to tie their mouths tight shut, OK to force their heads down, rather than allow them to express their opinion about our riding?
When I dreamed of horses, my childhood dreams were full of sound, happy horses.
Now that I have learned to listen to the horses I have, to allow them a voice, an opinion and a good equine life of their own, now all my dreams are coming true.
And I hope Lilly’s will too.