The Best Story of My Life

Horses are a lot like books - they’re quiet, reflective, and each contains its own unique stories. My horse especially has quite an individualistic personality. Many wouldn’t be keen on his occasionally bad attitude. Okay, usually bad attitude.

He prefers to greet people with his ears back, he’s broken his fair share of toes, and giving him a treat can be a risky endeavor.

But he’s more than a summation of his bad habits.

And once you break through his grumpy exterior, you’ll have a friend for life.

I got Jesse as a gift from my parents in eighth grade. We searched the country far and wide and decided he was the best fit. He was admittedly not my first choice. I wanted a kind-eyed mare, but she was sold before we could buy her. To this day, I’m grateful for this twist of fate.

Jesse came off the trailer like a breathing dragon - neighing and kicking and stomping.

“It’ll take him a while to get used to you,” his previous owner had warned.

Yeah, yeah, I’d thought, but it did indeed take him a couple of years to get settled.

In these years, I struggled. A lot. Jesse was trained in ways thirteen-year-old me didn’t understand. It hurt me that the horse I’d dreamed about, a horse bought just for me, didn’t like me or respect me. Sometimes, his sour nature even scared me.

Finally, we found a trainer to give us dressage lessons and my perception of horsemanship changed forever.

Horses, even well-trained ones, aren’t push-button machines that work every time. They’re animals with their own thoughts, fears, and feelings. They will act differently depending on where you are, what the weather is, and what mood they’re in. As an equestrian, you have to know your horse well enough to know how all these different reactions. You have to know how to respond, without fear or anger, when they misbehave.

Most importantly, you must always ask yourself, What did I do wrong?

What could I have anticipated better?

How can I be a good partner to my horse?

Learning these questions and their answers altered my relationship with Jesse in the best way. He grew to trust me and I grew to trust him.

Now, I can tell by the look in his eye if he’s scared. I know by the tenseness of his back if he’s going to be skittish. I know he hates shadows and tunnels and anyone who doesn’t greet him with a kind voice when they see him. I know that once you learn his quirks, he’ll respect and care for you.

He’ll show you his soft side by tugging on your jacket zippers, licking your hair, and flashing his kind eyes at you.

I know he loves nothing more than to show - to feel the crowd oo-ing and awing over him. If he thinks he did an especially excellent job, he’ll try to leave the line-up early and take a victory pass.

But the absolute best thing about Jesse is the peace we share together. Whether there’s a test I’m stressed about or a global pandemic running rampant, I can always go to the barn and disappear into a bubble of synchronicity. A bubble of friendship without words.

Jesse has taught me patience, kindness, and that everyone has layers. Maybe it makes me a crazy horse girl, but I don’t care.

He’s my partner in crime and I couldn’t imagine growing up without him.