Meet the horses

While Anton’s balanced gaits have certainly helped him in his pursuits, his personality is what sets him apart. He is just curious, mischievous, and fun. He used to open up the tack cupboard next to his stall, drag saddles into his stall, and pee on them. If he breaks into the barn, it turns into a disaster zone within five minutes. I’ve seen him playing games with the neighbor on the riding lawnmower. And of course, he was the only horse in fifteen years to discover the hidden chicken wire in the pasture, ingest it, and get a piece of it stuck in his guttural pouch, requiring surgery at the vet school (and yes, today Anton is totally wireless). Anton is a breath of fresh air.

And I think this personality, a mix of confidence and inquisitiveness, has helped him understand what is being asked of him and answer the question correctly. The systematic nature of dressage makes sense to him and he enjoys the process of learning. The training process has also helped him strengthen his gaits, developing bounce and swing he may not have shown if he were never asked.

To me, that is the story of Anton: ask and you shall receive. Of course, he has his limits - we all do - but we don’t know them until we try and ask. Anton, like every horse, is happy to work at whatever level you ask of him, and if you don’t ask, he will cheerfully plop along on the forehand. But when I get all my ducks in a row and ask appropriately? He bounces and floats and powers through his day. What a wonderful friend he is.

Through the years, Allie is also the horse who has taught me the most.

Many of those lessons are about riding: controlling my core, precision with my aids, riding the posture first, developing the gaits. But most of what Allie has taught me is about myself, my relationships, and the texture of life. I am (slowly) learning patience and persistence - the value of showing up day after day, gently asking for just a little bit more. She teaches me the value of taking a situation at face value, rather than riding the horse I think I should have on that day. She is teaching me better emotional control and how to remain dispassionate while riding so that I can actually be more compassionate overall.

Allie has come a long way. From her younger years of putting her neck in a headset and trotting at a million miles an hour or cantering so big a standard size dressage ring felt like a teeny round pen, she can now sit and bounce and canter in a wide variety of ways. She is fit and strong and fun.

But what makes her so special is her loving, kind, and funny temperament. She has a fabulous sense of humor (and will definitely learn more tricks when she enters retirement) and tries her heart out, no matter the task. For several years, she was in and out of work with a mysterious lameness that was finally diagnosed as a sacroiliac injury she sustained in the pasture. While she was on pasture rest, she would hassle me when I haltered another horse in her herd and sidepass in front of me while I walked back into the barn, desperate for something to do. I’m grateful to have a “Pallie” like her.

Ingrid likes to send all her young horses out in the world and Bella was no exception; as a yearling, she went to live at a friend’s farm and get some basic groundwork training. Within a few days, she had jumped out of her stall and hung her hind leg on a protruding bolt. (You can bet she lifts her hind legs beautifully while jumping after that.) As such, Bella had to undergo numerous surgeries, daily leg wrapping, and stall rest over the course of six months. For a sporty yearling, this was hugely challenging, but she made it through with no lameness or other lasting injury. And yes, our friend did rebuild his stalls to accommodate silly babies who jump over fences and gates for fun.

Bella is simply a character. She loves to eat as much as any Haflinger I’ve met and loves to be outside - except when it’s raining. She got to learn about cutting cattle in the summer of 2020 and once she learned she was in charge of moving the cows, she thought she finally earned her rightful place as queen of all living things. She is smart as a whip, careful, and gorgeous. She listens to all the aids I don’t know I’m giving (body control is hard!). She makes me a better rider and partner.

Leica, as you can imagine, is just a fun horse. She thinks hard and tries hard, and has gone from not knowing that cantering was a thing horses did to learning her flying changes and starting her pirouette work. She is incredibly responsive to the aids and keeps me on my toes so I can be as light as possible.

Leica is also special because she was completely homebred with Ingrid’s own mare and stallion, and is the only offspring from Brenner that we have on the farm currently.

There is a quote somewhere in the world from a famous horseperson that goes something like this: at the end of the day when I’m choosing a horse, I want a horse with a beautiful eye as they hang their head over the stall door. Leica is that horse. She is sweet, personable, and tries her heart out, even when it’s hard. Slowly but surely, we are progressing, and while I’m surely excited to see where she goes, I am really enjoying the journey along the way. And that’s what it’s all about, right? Because at the end of the day, we have no idea where any horse is going (or where we’re going, for that matter). But the journey - we have the journey, and can enjoy every minute of it.