I came this close to selling my young mare. She was five. When she was displeased, she snapped her big white teeth at me and she bucked, with the most beautiful light buck when I pulled her away from grass. I was simply leading her. What would she do under saddle? I don’t bounce. I don’t have those youthful anti-fear hormones. Not only that, she and my other mare roared like dinosaurs trying to kill each other. My friends told me to sell her.
I wept saying I was afraid she’d be sold to a killer. Bruce stopped me. “You have enough grief to bear,” he said. It had been a horrendous semester. Everything changed when I listed Morgen’s behaviors in the last month. I saw the lie in what I’d been telling myself: “This horse could hurt me.” She’d not hurt me when she could have.
After that, we found some trainers who gave her a job, and who preached, "She is not too much horse for you." Of course, she settled down. She knew she had a place. I learned to be consistent and quiet. I trusted her when we drove down the road. I am trusting her now when I step into the saddle.
While it may well be appropriate to throw in the towel on some relationships, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes changing how we see the person can call us both into the light. Sometimes it’s worth keeping the commitment.
I’m Katie Andraski and that’s my perspective.