27/11/2023
We don't talk about the failures very much; probably because if we admitted how often we failed in this industry, there would be less of us to carry the weight. We talk in depth about clients treating us poorly, the wins and losses that come with showing, the trials that come with training, but I've never seen anyone talk about that gut wrenching feeling we get when we're at the end of our rope with a horse and finally realize, after months and in some cases years, that we can't help a horse anymore, may it be financially, emotionally or physically. I didn't realize how hard it was to process this as a young trainer trying to build a business and bring on project horses, but in the event any of my Facebook friends are going through the same issue that I am, I would like to tell you the same thing I needed to hear.
It's ok.
You've had vets out to do full body checks and blood work. You've called other trainers to ask for their opinions, and maybe have even put your pride down enough to let another more experienced trainer come work and see the horse in question. You've given time off, tried countless medications, started and restarted, only to get to the same conclusion every single time. Saddle fitters, farrier changes, books upon books in some desperate attempt to find something that could help a horse that you've promised you would help fix.
It's ok.
It's ok to have tried so hard that you went and sat in on clinics you initially would have never listened to, and it's ok to read books in hopes the author has a similar experience as the horse you're so hell bent on helping. It's ok to call your fellow trainers and ask for their experiences, as well as multiple vet checks. It's ok to cry in the stall with said horse as you acknowledge that you, as a trainer establishing a business with other horses, have been outmatched, and have met a horse you can no longer help.
The question is, where do we go from here? Nobody wants to admit their failures or their faults, and when we as trainers are out-horsed, there's often very few places we can trust these horses to wind up, especially when some horses are physically dangerous to be ridden. That's when we have to face ourselves in the mirror and realize what kind of trainer we want to be and what we truly want to contribute to our industry, and what we want to be remembered as for our students in years to come.
We owe it to our horses, even the ones that we fail, to do what's best. We can't pass the buck and lie to fellow trainers and turn up our noses to the horses that have humbled us beyond humble. It's our duty as the leaders of the industry to find suitable homes for these horses, may it be putting our pride down to find a more suitable trainer, or labeling the horse as non rideable and finding a nice retirement spot or non riding home, or at worst putting the horse peacefully to sleep so that they may never have to know the inside of an auction house. I'm proud to be a trainer, as well as proud to admit that my horses are still able to humble me in more ways than one, but I'm not proud of the decisions we are stuck making in the worst of times.
That being said, I whole heartedly hope this post just reaches a few people that feel the same as me, and maybe we can help each other. It's a learning curve, and at least I'm willing to admit where I need to learn more.
