Equu-librium

01/01/2026

Looking back to when I first graduated from veterinary school, prepurchase examinations were refreshingly simple. Horses fell into three clear categories: those with no apparent problems, those who were actively lame, and those who were what we called "serviceably sound." That third category has practically disappeared from modern veterinary practice, and I believe we're all worse off for it.

Serviceably sound horses weren't perfect specimens. They might have shown a little stiffness in one direction or carried themselves differently than a younger horse would. But these horses had been reliably doing their jobs for years, and there was every reason to believe they could continue for years more. Today, in our era of exhaustive radiographs, aggressive flexion tests, and what I affectionately call Scientific Wild Guesses about the future, I find myself wondering what happened to simply accepting a good, working horse for what he is.

The transformation hit me hardest about two years ago when I became the fourth veterinarian to examine a twenty-year-old warmblood mare. This horse had been subjected to every diagnostic tool modern veterinary medicine offers: MRIs, bone scans, ultrasounds, and radiographs of virtually every skeletal structure in her body. Multiple specialists from prestigious hospitals had weighed in with their professional opinions. The consensus was unanimous and dire: this mare should never be ridden again. The diagnostic reports left no room for interpretation.

When the owner called me, I honestly questioned what unique perspective I could possibly offer after such thorough evaluation by my colleagues. Still, I went through my examination process. I ran my hands along her legs and felt the subtle swelling in her stifle joints. When I flexed her legs, I noted the expected stiffness. Throughout the entire examination, this gentle, patient mare cooperated completely, never resisting or objecting to anything I asked of her. Then I requested to see her move. Her gait certainly wasn't expansive or effortless, but she moved forward willingly and, if I'm any judge of equine demeanor, happily.

I turned to the owner and asked a question that apparently none of my predecessors had considered important: "What do you want to do with her?"

The owner, who had clearly invested enough in diagnostics to fund a small developing nation, replied that she hoped the mare could give lessons to children.

My response was simple: "Why don't you give it a try?"

The owner's brow furrowed with concern. "But what about all of those reports?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of dire professional opinions.

I looked at the mare, then back at the owner. "Don't let her read them."

Three years have passed since that conversation, and that supposedly unrideable mare continues to give lessons to children regularly and happily. She doesn't move quickly or for extended periods, and she benefits from occasional pain-relieving medication. But she has a purpose, she's adored by countless young riders, and by all observable measures, she's content with her life.

Another case stays with me just as powerfully. An eighteen-year-old gelding had been through the complete diagnostic circus: MRI, nerve blocks, radiographs, medication trials, and therapeutic shoeing adjustments. All of this was in response to a hoof issue that caused a slight forelimb lameness, particularly noticeable when circling. I drove well beyond my normal practice area to evaluate this horse and review the mountain of accumulated data. After my examination, I asked the owner about the horse's current use.

"I take him out for walks on the trail two or three times a week," she explained.

My recommendation seemed almost too simple: "Why not give him a small dose of pain reliever before your trail walks and let him enjoy walking around this beautiful arena the rest of the time?"

The owner's immediate concern revealed how deeply the culture of worry had taken root. "But won't the pain reliever destroy his stomach?" she asked anxiously.

"No," I assured her.

That conversation happened four years ago. I encountered the owners at a lecture I presented about a year later, and everyone involved was thriving. As far as I know, the gelding's stomach remained intact, and the arrangement continues to work beautifully for both horse and owner.

I share these stories because the commercial side of the equine industry seems determined to convince horse owners that anything less than perfection is unacceptable. Words like "optimum," "ideal," and other carefully chosen marketing language imply that every horse harbors some hidden pathology just waiting to manifest as catastrophe. The message being sold is dangerously binary: your horse is either perfect or doomed.

This relentless pursuit of flawless equine health is, in my professional opinion, largely harmful. The constant anxiety, the hours spent researching potential problems on the internet, the fear of what might go wrong—all of this robs horse owners of the fundamental joy that should come with horse ownership. When a horse glances at his flank, it almost never means he's experiencing intestinal torsion. When a horse receives appropriate nutrition, he's not teetering on the edge of some nutritional catastrophe that only the latest miracle supplement can prevent. Excessive worry leads to unnecessary diagnostic testing, wasted money on veterinary and other services, and a futile quest for reassurance through endless interventions and products.

Understanding and monitoring your horse's health is certainly important. But there's a vast difference between reasonable concern when your horse shows signs of illness or injury and perpetual anxiety about potential future problems. Constant worrying about a healthy, normal horse creates problems primarily for the owner, not the horse.

Just recently, a seventy-year-old client brought me her nineteen-year-old gelding. She'd acquired him from a riding school and was concerned because someone had mentioned he was limping. I watched him trot and confirmed there was a slight irregularity in his gait.

"What do you do with him?" I inquired.

"I enjoy walking on the trails with him on weekends with my friends. Or maybe every other weekend," she replied.

I palpated his pastern and felt a minor enlargement. I was fairly certain he had some degree of osteoarthritis, commonly called ringbone.

Here's what I didn't recommend: radiographs, bone scans, MRIs, joint injections, joint supplements, specialty shoeing, liniments, platelet-rich plasma therapy, or stem cell treatments.

Instead, I gestured toward her seventy-five-year-old husband Fred and asked, "How's Fred doing? Is he moving around like he did when you two got married fifty years ago?"

She laughed. "No, definitely not."

"Thinking about trading him in?"

"Only sometimes," she said with a smile.

I suggested she continue enjoying those pleasant long walks and perhaps give the horse—not Fred, as I don't prescribe human medications—a pain reliever if he seemed uncomfortable. Several months have passed and everything continues to go wonderfully. I actually saw them both just the other day. The situation is ideal for everyone involved. Nobody moves with perfect soundness, Fred included. But everyone is functional, serviceable, and most importantly, happy.

So what does "serviceable" actually mean? To me, it means the horse can perform the work being asked of him without suffering. Horses typically go out and give their best effort—it's one of the qualities we treasure most about them. Our responsibility is to care for them, but that responsibility doesn't include achieving the impossible goal of perfection. A horse can be imperfect and still be wonderful.

Mark Twain captured a certain wisdom about horses when he wrote: "I preferred a safe horse to a fast one—I would like to have an excessively gentle horse—a horse with no spirit whatever—a lame one, if he had such a thing." (Roughing It, Chapter 64)

I rarely view situations in absolute terms. I believe firmly that the perfect is the enemy of the good. A horse isn't simply good or bad, serviceable or worthless. The equine world is full of wonderful horses who might have some minor flaw or imperfection but who will nevertheless be the best horse their owner could ever hope for. Don't pass by one of these treasures simply because he doesn't match someone else's arbitrary definition of perfection. He might not be flawless, but he can still be serviceable, useful, and even absolutely great.

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09/26/2025

So many people still call horses “dominant.”
They’ll say a horse kicked, pinned their ears, or pushed into a person because they’re trying to “dominate.”

But that idea has been scientifically debunked, even by Dr. David Mech, the very researcher who first popularized dominance theory in wolves. He later admitted his early conclusions were wrong, and that wolves (and by extension other species) don’t live in rigid “alpha” hierarchies at all.

Studies on equine social behavior (McDonnell, 2003; van Dierendonck et al., 2009) show the same holds true for horses. They don’t organize themselves in strict pecking orders. Instead, they live in fluid, cooperative social groups where leadership shifts depending on context. Most interactions are ritualized, ear position, body orientation, subtle movements, rather than violent attacks.

When we label horses as “dominant,” we frame them as power-hungry or dangerous. That makes it easy to justify harsh handling, because if the horse is out to control us, then we need to “control them first.”

But here’s the reality:

• Horses are conflict-avoiding prey animals.

• Aggression is rare and usually linked to pain, fear, or poor resource management.

• The vast majority of the time, they choose peace.

If horses were truly trying to dominate humans, most of us wouldn’t survive a single day at the barn. Think about how often people lose their tempers, use excessive force, or ignore signs of distress. Horses tolerate an extraordinary amount, more than almost any other large domestic animal.

The truth about their temperament isn’t dominance. It’s tolerance, cooperation, and peace-seeking. And that deserves our recognition, not excuses for violence.

08/15/2025

Your Horse Isn’t Out to get You

We’ve all heard it before :

•“If you let him get away with that once, he’ll walk all over you.”

•“You’ve got to stay one step ahead, or you’ll lose control.”

•“He’s testing you. Don’t let him win.”

I was brought up in an equestrian environment that lived by and thrived upon these “rules” and sayings. I used to believe it too.

I thought my horse was playing some secret games, always trying to see what he could “get away with”.

Until I learned that this mindset doesn’t come from horses. It’s human made and It’s rooted in fear of losing control as well as in an approach that’s based in an alpha/ dominance mindset.

The biggest problem with it all, it can wreck trust before it even has a chance to grow.

Horses aren’t plotting our downfall. They’re not lying awake at night thinking about how to overthrow your leadership. Are they creative and come up with all sorts of ideas? Yes. But their brains aren’t designed nor evolved in such way that they could think in such complex manner in which they’re being accused of.

They live in the moment. They react to what’s happening right now, your tone, your body language, your energy, they aren’t acting upon to some long-term plot that they’ve create to “overthrow” you.

They might be reacting to some past reinforcement history, habits and patterns that have been created through it. But I can promise you, your horse isn’t out to get you.

Here’s what changes when you let go of “the horse is plotting against me” story:

1.You stop showing up like it’s a battle.

When you come in armored up and ready to “win,” your horse meets you with the same tension. Letting that guises down allows for true connection to built.

2.You see mistakes as questions, not rebellion.

A moment of resistance, a buck, or a spook isn’t him trying to get one over on you, it’s his way of saying, “I don’t get it,” or “I’m not okay right now.”

3.You realize respect comes from clarity, not force.

You don’t earn it by being tougher. You earn it by being consistent, compassionate and clear in your communication.

4.You build trust faster.

When you believe and start to notice that your horse has good intentions, he starts meeting you with more willingness than you ever get through control.

Your partnership isn’t a tug of war. It’s not a “power” match. It’s supposed to be a dance.

This is your reminder that…

• You don’t have to win.
• You don’t have to stay on guard.
• You just have to connect and meet him where he’s at.

When you stop seeing your horse as a malicious being who’s “out to get you,” you’ll start to see him for what he’s really trying to do, trying to communicate with you.

07/31/2025

DOMINANCE IS DEAD…

… now what?

In the horse world, we’ve spent the past decade working hard to dismantle dominance-based training systems.

And that’s a good thing.

But in the process, we’ve sometimes lost touch with something essential…

Leadership itself.

I’ve been riding a horse who spent most of his life as a breeding stallion, and I was so proud of him yesterday…

He was completely at ease as he helped me teach a lesson, and then joined us on his first group trail ride.

Not long ago, he would’ve been overcome with stallion anxiety- and probably would’ve tried to eat that other gelding for lunch!

When we first started working together, there were moments when he felt the need to take charge.
Not because he’s defiant, but because leadership is familiar to him. And he’s good at it.

I couldn’t just take that from him.
I had to earn it.

And that had nothing to do with dominating him or ‘showing him who’s boss,’ and everything to do with him realizing he could let his guard down, and trust me to lead the way, in a world he has no experience in.

Because that’s what leadership is…
The natural emergence of experience.

Not control.
Not coercion.
Not authority for authority’s sake.

And for many horses- especially those who’ve had to lead themselves for a long time- trusting a more experienced leader can feel like the first real rest they’ve had since foalhood.

Leadership is not always the privilege we imagine.

It’s often a position of hypervigilance and pressure.

Studies have shown that dominant or lead animals tend to carry higher baseline cortisol levels than their subordinates.

Why?

Because the leader is the one who stays vigilant while others rest…
The one who makes the decisions.
The one who gets challenged.
The one who can’t afford to fall apart.

And when you’ve spent your whole life in that role, even if you’re good at it, you get tired.

Anyone who’s spent years in leadership, caretaking, or survival roles understands this.

That’s where natural leadership- not dominance, but grounded experience- is such a gift.

It doesn’t strip the horse of agency.
It just says…

“I’ve been here before. You’re safe with me. Let me guide us through this.”

We’re not taking control
We’re taking care.

DOMINANCE IS DEAD. LONG LIVE LEADERSHIP.
Just because we’ve debunked alpha dominance theory doesn’t mean leadership doesn’t exist.

And I think it’s a mistake to throw out the idea of leadership entirely.

There’s a kind of natural leadership that has nothing to do with hierarchy or power.

It’s not about who’s in charge.
It’s about who’s capable.

Leadership is the natural emergence of experience.

And while this kind of grounded self-assurance might be misread as arrogance in the human world (but that’s a different post for a different time)… in the horse world, it’s always welcome.

That’s the Way of the Herd.

Imagine a horse herd with no experienced, mature members to guide and protect its juvenile members… a foal without their dam…

That’s what happens to our horses when we reject our leadership responsibilities.

We don’t empower them.
We abandon them.

We betray the very nature of the horses we’re trying to honor.

WANT TO READ MORE ON THIS?
I highly recommend Linda Kohanov’s book, ‘The Power of the Herd.’
It’s one of the best resources I’ve found on natural leadership.

05/06/2025

“Let the Horse Say No to Get a Deeper Yes”?⚠️

✨ A Kind Idea That’s Quietly Creating Chaos

There’s a romantic little idea breezing through the horse world.

It’s wrapped in rose gold script, herbal tea wisdom, and a slow-motion reel of a horse doing absolutely nothing in golden light while someone whispers “connection.”

It goes like this...

“Let the horse say no… and you’ll get a deeper, more genuine yes.”

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

It’s poetic. Gentle. Empathetic.

The kind of advice that makes you exhale and think, Ah yes, this feels right.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth:
The idea has issues—it’s quietly creating chaos.
For horses. For humans. For the very partnerships we’re all trying to build.
And that’s exactly why we need to talk about it.

🪧 A Note on Signposts and Good Intentions

Let’s be fair.

This idea comes from a good heart.It’s a signpost. A soft, well-meaning one. Probably handwritten in cursive on recycled card and zip-tied to a post at a horse expo somewhere.

It says:

“Be kind. Don’t push too hard. Let the horse guide the pace.”

And honestly? Beautiful intention.
But… the sign is pointing the wrong way.
Because instead of leading people toward greater skill, clarity, and confidence—It’s leading them into fog.

A fog where:
Observing replaces doing
Vagueness replaces structure
And the horse becomes the captain of the ship while the human nervously co-regulates into oblivion>

So no—I’m not here to burn the sign.I’m here with a big yellow highlighter and a better map.

Because yes—kindness matters.
But kindness without clarity?
That’s just confusion doing its best impression of compassion.

Let’s lovingly turn this signpost around and rebuild it with a bit more sense of direction.

🐴 Horses Don’t Say “No.” They Say “I’m Not Okay.”

Let’s be clear:Horses don’t say no. And they don’t say yes.They don’t have verbal boundaries. They have behaviour.

They:

brace
bolt
freeze
fidget
avoid
or gravitate toward their herd like it’s the only exit at a party they didn’t want to attend

And they do that because they’re:
confused
overwhelmed
uncomfortable
scared
or being asked something they don’t understand

That’s not a decision.
That’s feedback.

And if they comply?
It’s not a “deep yes.”

It’s probably:
“I understand this now.”
“I feel okay about this.”
“I’ve realised this won’t kill me. Cheers.”

The only real “yes” or “no” you should be listening to is the one you ask yourself:

✅ Does my horse understand?
✅ Do they feel safe and confident?
❌ Or is something I’m doing making this harder than it needs to be?

That’s not being emotionally distant.
That’s being accountable.
That’s horsemanship.

🔊 If You’re Hearing a Big “No,” You Missed a Whisper

Here’s a hard truth served with a chamomile tea chaser:
If your horse is shouting “NO,” you missed when they were whispering “I’m not sure.”

They always tell you:

in the shift of their posture
the stuck feet
the distracted eye
the breath that gets a little too tight

The “I’d rather not” comes long before the “absolutely not.”
So the goal isn’t to honour the no.It’s to recognise the early signs—and adapt before it escalates.

Not by stepping back,
But by stepping up—with better timing, better feel, and better decisions.

🔄 The Problem With “Let the Horse Say No”

Let’s be generous:This phrase was likely meant to stop people from interpreting every flick of uncertainty as open rebellion triggering the use of diabolical force to "get that respect".

It probably aimed to encourage softness, awareness, and empathy.

And we love that.

But in reality?

It often leads to this:
❌ People freeze
❌ They back off when the horse actually needs guidance
❌ They romanticise resistance as emotional wisdom
❌ And they stop adapting, influencing, or making clear decisions altogether

Instead of helping the horse, they start walking on eggshells.

Instead of teaching, they just coexist—awkwardly.
Everyone’s feeling everything… but nobody’s doing anything.

🎧 Attunement Isn’t Passive—It Has Teeth

Much of this “let the horse say no” philosophy gets bundled up in the language of attunement.

And attunement? Is brilliant—when done properly.

In psychology, attunement means:
Noticing emotion
Interpreting it accurately
Responding with appropriate skill

It’s not:
Lighting a candle and waiting for your partner to magically become emotionally available.

With horses, attunement isn’t just feeling what they feel.

It’s about:
Noticing the tension
Reading the worry
And doing something useful about it

To quote Tom Dorrance:
“Don’t treat them the way they are. Treat them the way you’d like them to be.”

That’s not wishful thinking.
That’s attunement with a backbone.

🐎 A Quick Story: Fear, Flags, and Fixing It

At a recent clinic, I picked up a flag.The horse I walked towards looked at me like I’d just pulled the pin on a live gr***de.

Now—I could’ve said:

“He’s saying no. I must honour that.”

But instead, I did something wild:
I helped.

I scrunched the flag into my hand and made it small.
Let him sniff it.
Unfolded it slowly.
Let him investigate.
Let him work out it was no threat.
Soon, he was following it. And I could use it as the tool it was meant to be.

That wasn’t a sacred “yes.”

That was good observation, good timing, and strategic decision-making.

That’s not passive compassion.

That’s me doing my actual job.

💡 Kindness Without Skill = Confusion

The people drawn to this ideology are, overwhelmingly, the kindest.
They want to connect.
To understand.
To do better.

But here’s the thing:
Kindness without skill? Is just nervous accommodation in a nice tone.

Without:
Practical knowledge
Understanding of how horses learn
Training skills
And the ability to adapt under pressure..you’re not building connection.You’re just being gentle while everything quietly unravels.

✍️ Let’s Rebuild the Signpost

Old sign:“Let the horse say no to get a deeper yes.”

New sign (edited, highlit, and slightly more useful):“Notice what your horse is showing you.Adapt what you’re doing to help them feel safe, understand the task, and succeed with confidence.Oh—and learn how to train a horse.”

Because good horsemanship isn’t about mantras.

It’s not about moral superiority.

It’s about skill, timing, and decision-making.

Not poetic.
Not passive.

Just damn good horsemanship.

📝 Disclaimer (With Just a Pinch of Sass)
This is satire.It examines an idea—not a person. And ideas are fair game.They should be challenged, especially when they’re a bit problematic.Because that’s how we all get better: by thinking more, not just feeling more. 💡🧠

If you made it this far and felt the satisfying sting of something worth reflecting on…

Hit the share button.

But please, for the love of originality—don’t copy and paste this whole blog and pretend it was your idea.That’s not “content sharing.”

That’s plagiarism.And I will consider you a well-intentioned kleptomaniac with good taste.

04/18/2025

The concept of a fixed "alpha" horse leading a herd through dominance has evolved significantly in recent years.

The term "alpha" is increasingly seen as misused and outdated when describing horse behaviour (similar to its decline in wolf science).

Historically, the "alpha" horse was perceived as holding a permanent top rank, claiming priority access to resources like food, water, and preferred locations, and asserting dominance by chasing subordinate horses.

This belief extended into human-horse interactions, with some training philosophies advocating that handlers must establish themselves as the "alpha" to gain the horse's respect and obedience and methods interpreted as the horse 'accepting' the human trainer as its leader.

Contrary to traditional beliefs that only the highest-ranked or oldest horses in a group lead, research demonstrates that any horse can initiate movement.

As for the concept of humans as alpha leaders - this brings its own set of problems. This approach relies on anthropomorphism, transferring human concepts like authority onto horses, which can lead to training techniques that elicit fear, over clear, consistent communication.

Adapted from: Equitation Science, 2nd edition - written by Andrew McLean, Paul McGreevy, Janne Whinther Christensen & Uta König von Borstel

Available for purchase on our website!

03/12/2025

So many accidents and injuries in the horse world could be avoided if riders were handling horses from a more behaviour informed lens.

There is this narrative that’s being pushed that is self disabling, where people claim that dangerous situations cannot be avoided because horses are simply “unpredictable.”

Meanwhile, these same people reject the concept of trigger stacking and argue with anyone who points out the stressors that can lead up to explosive reactions in horses.

If we don’t want to think deeper about how we can avoid dangerous situations and reduce reactivity in horses, then what are we doing?

People justify use of harsh training methods like hitting horses for punishment, using aggressive bits and training gadgets under the guise of “safety.”

But, in the same vein, they mock anyone who brings up behaviour informed concepts like trigger stacking, species appropriate care and avoiding use of behavioural suppressants like punishment.

Harsh bits, training gadgets and hitting horses to “correct” unwanted behaviour are not proven to increase safety.

Punishment is actually linked to an increase in reactivity and aggression across numerous species, including horses.

Harsh bits and coercive training methods are linked to higher instances of stress.

Stress is linked to more explosive and unpredictable behaviour in horses.

Avoiding trigger stacking and being mindful of what triggers our horses is an informed approach that works to reduce stress threshold and thereby avoid pushing horses so over threshold that they react dangerously.

It is proven to work.

On the flip side, the majority of what our mainstream horse industry claims is for “safety” is based off of anecdotes that are easily disproven just by watching what’s going on.

If bits were single-handedly keeping people safer, we wouldn’t be seeing so many accidents at all riding levels.

If hitting horses as the primary form of correction was the most successful means of reducing dangerous behavior, that would be shown in studies.

It would also be shown in practice, but it’s not.

A lot of the trainers who most loudly promote physical punishment as a form of correction are also the very same trainers who are posting the most evidence of horses reacting dangerously in their program.

The horse industry has a way of gaslighting people into believing that methods that actually are resulting in a lack of safety are the ones that are protecting safety.

And in doing so, we create a self perpetuating cycle that will never stop until we address the factors that are causing safety issues.

Stressed horses are dangerous horses.

But, instead of having a big discussion about what is promoting stress in horses, the most, and how we can start to fix it and model competition in a more horse-friendly way, our industry continues to promote attitudes that keep us stuck.

If we address the stress that we see in the average horse, whether they are a pleasure horse or a competition, it is a means of harm reduction for the horse and also ensuring further safety for the human.

Everything that makes horses dangerous is related to their flight response.

When they are frightened, they act unpredictably and they are large animals so naturally, this will be dangerous.

When they are chronically anxious and stressed, it does not take very much to set them off because they are so triggered stacked.

And then this leads to a chain of events that can make for a horse who has a very explosive “personality,” or, at least what people interpret as a personality when really it is the inevitable result of unmet needs.

Simply just by providing species-appropriate care and learning how to read Horse behaviour from an unbiased, fact-based perspective, we can improve the safety of both horses and humans astronomically.

01/08/2025

09/06/2024

Have you ever experienced being around someone who made all your cares and worries melt away? Someone who’s observational skills, attention to detail, and calm but assertive demeanor gave you confidence and hope? Have you ever experienced a complete melting away of your fear because you knew this person saw you, your skills, your needs, and would never put you in a position you couldn’t handle? There is complete relaxation and trust, but also the desire to try harder than you’ve ever tried before- to be the best you can be, because you feel safe, inspired, and interested.

This is what a good leader does, and this is what we should strive to provide for our horses. A horse seeks mental balance far more than we do, because we easily get addicted to drama or troubles- a horse just wants to feel safe. If we do our part to work on ourselves, we can provide this feeling to every horse we meet.

09/02/2024

A horse should be prepared to tolerate life, and able to cope with the environment they are brought into. This means exposure, teaching a set of skills so they can live a full and happy life, and teaching emotional regulation.

But a horse should not have to tolerate rude, sloppy, or disrespectful handling. Every human is fully capable of learning to handle their tools better, and become more aware. Teaching the horse to become more tolerant is not a cop out for self discipline. Even children and beginners can learn this, so long as their teachers make it a focus from the beginning.