Personal Priorities

I recognized Bronzz as a horse who fit my personal priorities

I watched in awe as the mare circled the round pen at a trot so graceful her feet hardly touched the ground. She was a vision of elegance, with a beautifully proportioned body, gleaming copper coat, and mane flowing to her elbow. Next, her breeder led out her full brother. Same pedigree, same color. The resemblance stopped there. His body was angular, his neck and back too short for his long legs, and he sauntered down the barn aisle like he was going to trip over his own feet. Once in the round pen he was surprisingly agile, though not as graceful as his older sister. I bought the gelding. Why did I settle for mediocre conformation and good gaits when I could have had excellent conformation and fabulous gaits? Because having a trustworthy partner was a higher priority for me, and Glamour Girl did not look like a good bet. When their breeder turned her loose in the round pen and asked her to trot, she startled as if she’d forgotten he was there. With each cue, Fritz had to reengage her attention, and she over-reacted each time. With time and patience she might have learned to be a good partner, but that wasn’t something I wanted to gamble on. Bronzz already thought like a partner. He had an eye and ear on Fritz every second, anticipating cues before they were given. When he got bored, he paused to admire the scenery on the far side of the valley, a creative form of resistance that showed self-confidence and initiative without aggression. While pretending not to notice Fritz, he was actually watching him out of the corner of his eye, assessing his reaction to this ploy. He accepted a scolding with good grace and went back to work. Bronzz was not friendly. Quite the contrary, when I invaded his personal space to touch his legs, he craned his neck and glared at me for the impertinence. But I didn’t care how he related to me, a stranger to whom he owed nothing beyond common courtesy. I was watching his relationship with Fritz, the man who had cared for him the entire 3 years of his life. Bronzz had Fritz on his radar at all times, and trusted him absolutely. Bronzz was clearly too opinionated and independent minded to be anyone’s obedient servant, but I believed that treated with respect he could be the kind of thinking partner who anticipates your wishes, covers for your mistakes, and looks out for you in risky situations. It’s been 25 years since I traded fabulous looks and gaits for a fabulous partnership, and I’ve never been sorry. Not for one second. When we first meet a horse it’s easy to be smitten by good looks, elegant movement, fancy coloring, athletic ability, an illustrious pedigree, or schmoozy “friendliness”. Other people may be quick to foist their opinions on us, judging the horse based on their definition of quality. Quality, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. It depends on what matters to us. That’s why when we’re choosing a horse, it pays to be clear about our own personal priorities. My personal priority was a healthy, athletic horse of a size that felt comfortable to me, with gaits and personality I liked, and behavior I felt safe with. Bronzz fit that bill perfectly. Someone else might want a horse who was taller, shorter, slimmer, calmer, flashier, more obedient, or a different color or breed. A western pleasure rider would want shorter gaits and lower head carriage. A competition dressage rider would want a bigger horse who tracked straighter. An Arabian breed show competitor would want a “typie” Arab, with a longer neck, and a flat tabletop rump instead of a hunter’s bump. A huntseat or jumper rider wouldn’t want an Arab in the first place. Breeders care about pedigrees, but I don’t breed, and as a friend of mine says, ‘You don’t ride the papers.” Choosing a horse based on someone else’s definition of quality risks disappointment, even when we have competition goals. A breeder and trainer I greatly admired once said, “I like to show, but even if I hit 15 shows a year, I still have to live with that horse the other 350 days.” It is also worth considering that if you and the horse aren’t comfortable with each other, neither of you can perform your best. Since even horses aren’t perfect, we usually have to compromise on something. My compromises with Bronzz were that I couldn’t test ride him because he wasn’t trained, and I was not, absolutely NOT, going to buy an Arab, no matter what. Once I met Bronzz, those didn’t feel like compromises. Finally, we need to know what we won’t compromise on. For me, one is the horse’s health. I always get a vet check. The other is my own health. I never forget that I am entrusting my safety to that horse’s goodwill and good judgment every time I swing a leg over his back, indeed every time I get within kicking range. For me, being constantly nervous and on guard would spoil all my fun. Yes, I take my riding seriously, but I still do it because it’s fun, and I want to keep it that way!