Which Group Are You In?

I just read results of a survey conducted to pinpoint people's reasons for involvement with horses. The research turned up five main psychographic groups. Do any of these sound like the right fit for you? Which one?

1. Intimate emphasis – the primary reason for horse ownership is to have a personal and emotional relationship with the horse.
2. Social emphasis – owners in this group favor and depend on the respect and camaraderie of other horse owners. They want to share their enthusiasm with others of like mind. They treasure the sense of belonging.
3. Familial emphasis – those in this group use horse involvement for family bonding, learning, and recreation. They’ve owned horses for several generations and live predominantly in rural areas. Horses are part of the family identity.
4. Commercial/competitive – the main emphasis for these owners is on winning and/or financial gain. They may have intimate feelings for certain horses, but as a whole, horses are their “achievement partners,” or their means to an end.
5. Detached – this category includes those in the horse-industry service sector who are detached from actual hands-on horse involvement, and who view horses as subject matter around which they earn their 9-to-5 livings. Many breed-association employees fall into this group, as do manufacturers, retailers, product reps, etc.

A Visit to Mr. Appaloosa

When the call came, I dropped everything and rushed out the door: George Hatley, my friend and longtime mentor, had suffered a stroke and was in a local hospital. He could walk and use his hands, but he'd lost his speech. I didn't know what I'd say or do when I got to his room, but that didn't stop me from the pushing the speed limit on the way to town. George has 'been there" for me so many times over the last 30+ years that there was no way I wasn't going to be at his side for this.

When we first met, in 1975, George was head of the Appaloosa Horse Club -- a position he'd held since 1946 -- and had just given me my first post-college job. He was about the same age I am now--early 50s--and well on his way to earning his honorary nickname of Mr. Appaloosa. He was easily the most fascinating man I'd ever met, as adept at packing solo into the Idaho wilderness or flying an airplane as he was at running a breed organization. As the years passed, I never stopped looking up to him.

As I entered his hospital room, I realized this was the first time I'd ever seen George lying down. He's usually a perpetual-motion machine, always casting about for the next thing that needs doing and then hustling to get it done. Tears rolled from his eyes when I took his hand. He searched my face as he tried to say words that wouldn't come out.

"It's OK, George," I said. "I know what you're trying to say.

"I love you a lot, too."

Breed Choice: Is It the Horse, or the Association?

Many of us who have horses reach a stage where we become pretty breed-specific and breed-involved. Thus, we have Quarter Horse people, Arabian people, Appaloosa people, Friesian people, Miniature Horse people, etc., etc., etc. If you're a Something-Person, I have a question for you:

* Is it the horse itself that earns your loyalty and involvement? Or, for you, is it more about the association and what it offers--a competition scene, a strong marketplace, a "this fits me" social network, or whatever?

I'd like to hear your story about why you chose the breed you did, and what keeps you with it.

The Horses on Your Fridge

Do you keep horses--photographic and magnetic ones--on the front of your refrigerator? I do, and so do most of the horse people whose homes I've visited. The practice seems so ubiquitous that I'll bet most of us never stop to think about it. But today, which is one of those rainy indoor days, I got the notion to tidy up my Hotpoint Hall of Fame. And when I stood back to look at its two-dimension herd, I started wondering: If we each were to take and publish a picture of those pictures, what would that picture say to others about our horse lives?

My fridge front would tell you that my late, great gelding Ace is still the star of the show. His mortal presence has been gone since September 2004, but his memories presence hasn't diminished one bit. You'd see that we've had a series of fancy gray foals--two fillies and a colt--and that they've grown up out in the pasture in the company of doting old geldings as well as their mother. And you'd see the latest evidence that I'm slogging away at my goal of turning my young, green (ish) gelding into a steady, reliable, do-a-lot-of-things horse.

Hmm. Better go take a good look at what's stuck on your fridge front. Cuz now we'll all be looking, too, the next time we come over.

"Broke" Is a Beautiful Thing

When a girlfriend called to invite me out riding last weekend, my first thought was that I couldn't go. My up-and-coming young gelding was nursing a mild lameness and couldn't be my mount. Then I remembered Tank, the old, retired rope horse who now spends his days as "uncle" to our weanlings. Perhaps he wouldn't mind a day away from the girls? I caught him up, pointed him into the trailer, and he willingly hopped in--perhaps with visions of his former glory days, in hot pursuit of steers.

The old guy didn't get to chase any bovines, but he sure did make my day. After riding a green horse for the last couple of years, I'd almost forgotten the difference between MAKING a broke horse, and HAVING a broke horse. Pre-ride longeing? No need for that. Self-protective worries about traffic and other spook-monsters? Never had a one. Battles over water crossings on the trail? Nope. The Tankmobile proved himself to be just as reliable, just as safe, just as seasoned, just as BROKE as he was the day he got turned out into our pasture, presumably for good. Though we never got out of an easy amble, I told my friend that I hadn't gotten as much pure PLEASURE from riding a horse since I was a kid, when the sole objective was to have fun. Not to train, not to school, not to make the horse better than on the last ride...just to get on, relax, and go.

Talk about a horse earning his keep. The ol' Tankster still knows how that's done.

Our Go-To People

We horsepeople tend to be an independent lot. Not only does having horses set us apart from most other people, but there's also something about the animals themselves that attracts those who see themselves as self-directed.

Even so, I don't know any horseperson who doesn't rely on at least one valued go-to person. This is the person who knows how to find answers and solve problems, whether about training, health, or otherwise, and whose wisdom is well-earned and trusted.

When I was a girl, our family's go-to person was Grandpa. Born in 1905, at the tail end of the horse-and-buggy era, he'd assimilated the kind of once-common horse knowledge that was well-faded by the time my siblings and I came along in the 1950s. His father had been the local lay "horse doc," and as a child, Grandpa had gone with him on many of his rounds.

As a result, Grandpa knew how to treat anything from balkiness to a shoe boil. I vividly remember the day that my first "he's mine!" horse--a weanling colt given to me by Grandpa--fell into and got trapped upside-down in a hay manger. Home alone and terrified that my treasure was about to die, I raced to the house to find a phone. Did I call my parents? No. A veterinarian? No. The neighbor lady? No. Frantic and sobbing, I dialed Grandpa's number. He would know what to do!

Sure enough, he did. He came right away, extracted my colt from the manger, then treated his cuts and scrapes with some home-made concoction he always kept on hand. The colt healed up with nary a scar to show for his mishap, and Grandpa gained another notch of credence on his go-to reputation.

These days, I have a go-to vet, a go-to training pro, and a smattering of go-to horse friends. I couldn't get along without them--any more than I could have gotten along without Grandpa.