Do Horses Want to be Ridden?

I came to Canada from Thailand at the age of four. My Canadian father took me to my first fall fair shortly after my arrival. The aromas of delicious junk food wafted through the air, filling me with delight.

This was the bridge of excitement that would lead me to my greatest passion inspired by the pony rides. I was now a horse fanatic at the age of four. I drew pictures of horses, got children's books from the library and stared at the pictures.

Soon my father realized he had to do something. My mother died when I was eight so my guilty sorry father decided to spoil me by taking me to a horseback riding stable once a week. My uncle lived with us. He and my dad would take turns taking me to the ranch to get my fix on horseback.

At first they would walk along side the horse, with me on he saddle, then they would eventually let me go ahead on my own. Soon they realized that I was a natural, and kept a good distance behind.

When I was eleven, I begged my father to let me take equestrian lessons instead of going to Sunday school. My father was only experimenting with different faiths so it was easy to manipulate him. At equestrian school I became the best rider.

How do I know that? Well one day they brought a new high strung horse in and asked who was the best rider. I was instantly stuck in the middle of a circle of young riders pointing at me saying "SHE is!"

After years of coming in first place at competitions, my father broke the news that he could no longer afford it. He was a blue collar welder that sacrificed all good things for himself to please his motherless daughter.

All I could do now was dream that one day I would have a horse of my own. I would saddle it and put a bit in it's mouth, and a bridle over it's sweet face. Up until two years ago when I went vegan for the animals, I would imagine riding a horse into the sunset to calm myself to sleep. WHAT!

I realize now that horses don't want to be ridden!

Part of my training was to put a saddle on their backs and a bit in their mouth. Would I want that for myself? The answer is no.
Suddenly I have flashbacks of tightening the girth strap following the instructions to smack his or her belly to prevent the on purpose bloating from the horse. They learned to do this so that it would be looser when they exhaled. Also forcing a metal bit into the mouth.

It is so clear to me now that the only relationship that I should ever have with a horse or any other being, is one of love and respect.

Like us and every being, they just want to be free.

Most images are from Pixabay