November 2, 2015 
Anxious, wide-eyed parents ask me how to keep their kids interested in horses. All. The. Time.
“You know…like you are, after all these years…”
More often than not, this question is followed up with an analysis about how their child has outgrown their pony, and maybe needs a bigger/better/younger/fancier horse in order to progress and “stay dedicated.”
I swallow my irritation, then pause before I say anything. It is true that kids outgrow ponies. Kids outgrow a lot of things. But to me, that’s hardly the point.
So I respond by asking, “Well, how committed is your kid to proving that they’re committed?”
When I get a blank look in response, I remember that I can only speak to my own experience.
Little girl is brushing her favorite horse in the stable
I was born horse crazy. Me, and almost every other tiny human out there. I learned to talk, then walk, then ride. I sought any excuse to be around horses. I spent weekends at the stable up the road, learning all that I could, whenever I could. I had shelves of horse books. I had horse dreams. Etc, Etc. My story is not unique.
But my parents were smart. No matter the intensity of my obsession, they encouraged education about horse ownership in equal doses to horseback riding. Wholly disdainful of the “spoiled horse girl” stereotype, they understood that dedication should go beyond superficial interest.
“Prove it,” they implied.
On my own time, without my parents pushing me, I rode any horse that someone would let me climb up on. Any unstructured hour at a barn, around horse people, learning something, was an hour well spent.
(flickr.com/Michael)
When I turned twelve, my family took on three horses of our own. It was a family pact, but it never occurred to my parents that anybody else but me would be responsible for care as well as fitness. They expected maturity from me because horse ownership required it. Simple as that. Therefore, I happily scheduled spring and fall shots, kept track of grain and hay, and left eighth period early to meet the farrier at the barn. I changed horse blankets in blizzards. I got my driver’s license and learned how to haul my horses all over the northeast. This was “work” that many people “couldn’t believe I had time for.”
The horse obligation was difficult, rewarding, and at times, all-consuming. I certainly did not do it all on my own. I learned as I went. My parents were absolutely there, supporting me when I got into a bind. But they also understood that responsibility was a way to empower me.
My Dad showed me how to back up the horse trailer into its parking spot. Then he watched from the kitchen window as I tried over and over again to figure it out. Looking back, those are moments that make me laugh.
There were also the moments that devastated me. Like at eighteen, fielding phone calls from my vet when my gelding Rustler was succumbing to laminitis. She was calling to discuss the reality of his x-rays: his coffin joints had rotated. He was in need of a peaceful end. As she talked, I was in my high school library writing an English paper, staring at the cursor blinking across the screen.
I gave Rustler his final bran mash on a bitter December day.
Horses are an enormous investment—financially, physically and emotionally. Anybody who is lucky enough to participate in that dream, be it kid, adult, senior, (but especially a kid) should be made aware that it is not just about the glory and show pictures that go up on Facebook.
(flickr.com/FiveFurlongs)
All too often, I see the reins of a talented horse being handed to an adolescent who is painfully oblivious of their privilege.
The partnership between horses and humans is a two way street. We take care of them; in exchange, they seize our hearts and give us wings. When it comes to honoring commitment, responsibility is a huge part of the equation. Owning a horse means showing up when it matters. Even when it’s cold, inconvenient, or out of the way. Even when it hurts and breaks your heart. When a kid is willing to do that…and keep doing that, then I tell parents to go for it.
If not, I simply shake my head and tell them my version of truth: That kids who are “interested” in horses and who are “excellent” at riding do not impress me. Kids who are hungry for knowledge and take any chance to show up early and often to learn something- those are the ones that catch my attention. Those are the ones who in twenty years, I can bet will still be committed to horses in some way. It must run in their blood. Maybe after all, they were born to it.
