Young Horses and the Best Laid Plans

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry, but not nearly as often as those of young horses and the riders who love them.

It's easy to be mesmerized by the young horse classes full of impeccably conditioned and mostly behaved equine prodigies effortlessly flying around the arena at prestigious championships like the Festival of Champions. You can’t help but dream about the future when you have a young horse.

But anyone who has dared pursue a goal involving a horse of any age is all too familiar with the innumerable ways such plans can self-implode. And unfortunately, young horses seem exceptionally talented at finding creative detours. More often than not, those detours are paved with repetitive vet calls for mysterious injuries and human butts dumped in the dirt.

Even if they somehow manage to make it through the first three years of life alive, many challenges still stand between that horse and a successful career in the competition arena. After experiencing some of those challenges firsthand, I have so much more appreciation for the luck, grit, and determination necessary for a combination to succeed in the young horse classes, let alone make it to Grand Prix.

Like many other naive owners, I was already planning a timeline of competitive goals as soon as I bought my horse as a foal. But when he was finally old enough to start under saddle, I promptly remembered that horses don't follow timelines.

After an unfortunate paddock accident involving typical young horse antics, we learned that my half-started 4-year-old would need a lengthy rehab of tack walking and monitored turnout at home. My next six months consisted of mornings spent anxiously observing his every move in the field and afternoons spent carefully following the vet's instructions while attempting to keep the playful, energetic baby horse as entertained as possible.

I would have felt pretty sorry for myself if all I saw were the social media photos of horses his age already winning ribbons at shows. But, thankfully, my self-pity was kept to a minimum by tales from friends and old colleagues of the young horses currently hidden at home behind their barns.

Some had horses that developed impressive abilities to dislodge their riders. Others had youngsters that had grown into something that resembled a prehistoric giraffe. Plenty had also found their own unique ways to max out their owners' credit cards at the vet clinic.

And sadly, some lost horses before they even had a chance to discover which antics they possessed. I had personally experienced such loss when my first horse passed away suddenly just before his third birthday from a rare congenital disease.

That heartbreak reminds me how lucky I am. Every pre-dawn alarm to muck out the stables, every step of hand walking, every tour around the field looking for pulled shoes, and every minute spent dressing the latest bumps and bruises is a privilege.

When you have a young horse from the beginning, you learn nearly everything about each other. Through the inevitable ups and downs, you have the opportunity to form a deeper connection than most people ever do with another living thing. The plan starts to matter less and less, and your partner starts to matter more than you could have imagined.

They won't follow your training timeline, and sometimes they'll suddenly forget how to turn left. But between all the self-inflicted injuries and delinquent behavior are moments that make everything worth it.

Wins don't always come in the form of ribbons and trophies. Sometimes those wins are simply a happy and healthy horse. This sport is too demanding, and these horses are too fragile not to celebrate that.

Training a young horse provides countless opportunities for things to go awry, but nothing is more rewarding than the fleeting moments when they don't. 

You don't need to attend the Young Horse Championships to find that feeling. You can find it hidden behind barns and turned out in big fields.

Sometimes you just have to believe in your horse, brush the footing off your butt, and keep getting back in the saddle.