As a trainer, I tend to wrap myself up in my horse, and how our performances are viewed by others. I know that each time I come down centerline, I am being judged.
Not just by the judge (whose opinion I am paying for), but by the other trainers who compete for the same clients, the students who are looking for a new coach, the buyer, wondering if they should employ me, and the barn owner in need of a regular clinician. Going down centerline, on my own horse, one I have developed from green broke to Grand Prix, is my biggest form of advertisement.
Whether that ride is good or bad. And I am ok with that.
As a trainer, my budget will never afford me a fancy, high caliber horse. I’m ok with that too.
As a trainer, my goals is to be able to develop a horse to their full potential, and still have a happy athlete, a happy partner, a horse with trust and confidence. Time and time again, that is exactly how it has worked out….until now.
I purchased H. Wrendition, ‘Rossi’, as a spooky, hot, green, 4 ½ year old from Charleen Summers, Hungarian Breeder and owner of Summervale Farm. Jenifer Williams had put a nice start on Rossi and thought he’d be a good match with me. She couldn’t have been more right. Boisterous, yet insecure, he grew more and more confident, with more bravado than most stallions, and he thought the world revolved around me.
We quickly climbed thru the levels with ease. Placing top 20 in the Country for Young Horse 6 year olds, and Developing Horse 7 year olds. He did his first Grand Prix at age 7, for Charleen Summers’ retirement party. I thought of it as an exhibition, but he came down centerline like he’d shown GP all season.
At 9, he competed at Gladstone and was 5th in the country for the Developing Horse Grand Prix. But in the midst of the triumphs I began to suspect something was wrong. It wasn’t anything solid, nothing I could put a finger on or point out to a vet.
His body would get tight and sore from traveling. And ulcers seemed like a reasonable explanation. So we treated him for ulcers. Sundays at shows he was sometimes tense, but more often, just heavy. Often, we left our best work in the warm up. I thought he wasn’t fit enough. I questioned everything: did push him too hard? Were his basics lacking?
When we returned from Gladstone he had a bad fall on the pavement. During his recovery, we discovered he had OCD in his stifle. It was an easy surgery. Next he fractured his splint bone, another surgery. In all, he spent nearly a full year off work. But during that time, he started to windsuck. So, full ulcer treatment again. We changed his feed to a grain free diet, and made other vet assisted choices.
And still he wasn’t quite right.
No matter the tests we ran, or the diagnostics used there was no “smoking gun,” no clear answers. Failure to perform was the best way to put it.
He continued to get stronger and show brilliance, but it never lasted long, certainly not long enough to get thru a test, and it was inconsistent. Over the years I backed him down to Intermediare II, then Intermediare I, PSG, and finally, I let a student show him at 4th and PSG. A super talented rider who only rode him a handful of times. So when things didn’t go right, I again chalked it up to me skipping steps, not confirming basics, needing more strength, fitness, clarity, exactness, etc. Always the blame went on myself and my training.
Until one day, I had an epiphany: I have made FEI horses for 30 years. My horses are easy to ride by anyone, my horses enjoy work, perform above their born abilities, and stay sound. Why is this horse different?
I’m the same rider. Yes, older, less supple, and heavier than my youth, but I am wiser, I have better feel, better understanding of the path. I was surrounded by a barn full of horses under my training who were what I normally produce.
Perhaps, I am not the problem? This was a big shift in my thinking. I always blame myself first. Always. But this time, it wasn’t me. Sometimes, to find the answers we have to shift our perspective.
It took a lot of diagnostics (money that I didn’t have) to rule out a million possibilities. And at last we realized the problem was in his own muscles. A painful problem that likely explained the lack of resolve of ulcers as well as all his other issues.
Our findings meant that Rossi was most likely in a lot of pain; yet he was always eager to work, happy to work, never complained. He would work for as long or as hard as requested, and remain consistent. Despite his generosity of spirit there were other issues as well that limited performance, and may have been present for years.
It is comforting to know that my training wasn’t at fault and in actuality, may have ‘hidden’ (compensated for) what was going on for a long time. I’m proud of myself that I never lost patience and pushed him on those days he didn’t seem up to it. That I could feel his try, against his unwilling body, and be proud of him even as we placed last. Proud of myself that on those days I still treated him like a king. Because he lived for the attention and approval.
I know that something like a degenerative muscle disease comes on slowly, is hard to recognize, and easily missed. What I can only hope is that others read this and look at their hors that has ‘Failure to perform’ and begin to question the ability of the horse’s system to function, rather than their training.
Sometimes it’s not about the ride-ability, the gaits, the conformation, or even the training. Sometimes, it’s about the nutrition, the physical make up of the muscles, the endocrine system, biology.
For everyone with a horse that has tight days, doesn’t hold chiropractic adjustments, has lameness that doesn’t match X-rays or changes day to day, has bad days when it’s cold, doesn’t like to hold legs up for the shoer, hates blankets, prefers trot to canter, needs to warm up to find their ‘gears’, save yourself thousands upon thousands in work ups and start with PSSM testing.
Armed with this knowledge my newest horse was tested (and tested negative) for all known muscle disorders. There are a million other variables and possible tragedies waiting, but least the vague mystery, unknown, not quite right, ever deteriorating sorrow, of muscle disease can be taken off the table if something else arises. And in that, I find peace.