The Horse You Want Isn't Always the Horse You Need

Years ago, I wanted a dark bay horse. Not just any dark bay. I wanted that particular kind of dark bay that looks almost black from a distance, with a chocolate-colored body contrasted against a black mane, black tail, and four sleek black legs. There was something about that combination that I couldn’t resist. The dark, shiny coat with just the right amount of contrast was my dream. It looked elegant and powerful. It looked like the kind of horse I wanted to be seen riding.

As it turns out, was part of the problem.

Sometimes when we’re looking for a horse, we fall in love with the picture before we fall in love with the horse. (I need to take my own advice here as I scroll for a cute mini donkey with giant ears.)

That’s how I ended up with Smokey.

At the time, I wasn’t thinking enough about whether his temperament was the perfect match for me. I wasn’t thinking enough about whether his training, personality, or way of going fit what I actually wanted to do. I was thinking, Look at him. His color, his build, that mane! I wanted a dark bay horse, and when I saw Smokey, he was exactly what I had pictured.

Unfortunately, the horse I had pictured in my head and the horse I actually needed were two very different things.

It took me more than a few rides to figure that out. It even took more than one bad ride, and more than one time of getting launched into the sand.

The Rescue I Wasn't Supposed to Keep

Smokey was actually a rescue. The original plan was to work with him, help him, and eventually find the right home for him. That was the sensible plan.

But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him.

He was about eight years old, sound, athletic, fast, and beautiful. He was also very touchy and shifty. He startled easily, was jumpy and reactive, and I knew he had bucked children off while barrel racing. He had trauma associated with barrels, and he had a particular dislike of men. If a man came too close, he could reach out with his front legs and strike at him.

None of that was exactly a secret.

I knew the red flags were there, but I also saw the horse underneath all of that, and I love a challenge. When Smokey was settled, he was incredibly athletic and fun to ride. He was fast, and there is a particular kind of exhilaration that comes with riding a fast horse who is moving well and doing exactly what you ask. I thought that if I could earn his trust, work through his issues, and give him some consistency, maybe I could help him become the horse I knew he could be.

So the rescue I was supposed to help and eventually rehome became my horse.

That was where things got complicated.

When the Red Flags Become Easy to Explain Away

The first time Smokey bucked me off was while we were playing around on the barrels. Looking back, I knew better. I knew he had trauma associated with barrels, and I knew his history. I made the choice anyway.

When he didn’t buck, though, he was fast and it was incredibly fun. That made it easy to focus on all the things that were going right and explain away the things that weren’t.

I knew Smokey was about 85 percent sane and 15 percent unpredictable. Generally, I knew when he was about to explode. I had learned his tells, and because I could usually recognize them, I started to believe that meant I could manage them.

That’s a dangerous assumption.

When we really want something to work, we become surprisingly good at explaining away the evidence that it might not.

He’s getting better.

I know him.

I know when he’s going to do it.

He just needs more time.

We’re making progress.

Sometimes those things are true. Sometimes a horse really does need more time, more training, more consistency, or a different approach.

Sometimes you are simply trying to convince yourself that a relationship is working because you desperately want it to.

The Ride That Changed Everything

Eventually, Smokey bucked me off multiple times. Then one day, on a trail, he lost his ever-loving mind. The frustrating part is that I knew what was happening. I could see the signs that he was becoming agitated. Normally, that would have been the point where I would have slowed everything down, gotten off , given him time, and safely walked him back.

But I was in a hurry.

I had somewhere I needed to be, and I thought maybe I could channel his frustration into energy. We had some steep hills ahead of us, and I figured if I got him moving and trotting up them, we could get where we needed to go in time.

That was not the case.

At the top of one of the hills, surrounded by limestone rock, Smokey bucked like a rodeo bronc until I came off.

I landed on my left shoulder and my head. Luckily, I had my helmet on. My shirt and pants got hooked on the horn and were torn, and my jeans ripped at the knee as it immediately began to swell.

Then there was my clavicle.

It snapped into two pieces, suddenly shaped more like a tent than the relatively straight line it had been a few seconds earlier.

It was a spectacularly bad ending to a ride that I already knew wasn't going particularly well.

But as painful as that accident was, the bigger lesson came from the realization that I had actually seen it coming.

I knew my horse.

I knew his history.

I knew his behavior.

I knew what the signs meant.

And I chose to push forward anyway because I wanted the situation to work.

Smokey Wasn't a Bad Horse

Here’s the thing: Smokey wasn’t necessarily a bad horse.

He was a horse who wasn’t the right fit for me.

And I was a rider who had made the mistake of letting what I wanted overshadow what I actually needed.

That distinction is important because horses are so often labeled as good or bad when the real issue is much more complicated.

A horse can be talented and still be the wrong horse for you. A horse can be athletic, beautiful, intelligent, affectionate, and incredibly fun to ride and still be completely unsuitable for the life you want to have with a horse.

The same horse that is challenging for one rider might be perfect for someone else. A horse that needs a confident, experienced rider might become anxious and reactive with someone who doesn't yet have the skills to give him that confidence. A horse with a difficult history might thrive in the hands of someone who has the experience and patience to work through it, while becoming increasingly frustrated and unsafe with someone who doesn't.

That doesn't necessarily make the horse bad.

It makes the match bad.

We Don't Buy Horses Like We Buy Washing Machines

I understand why this happens because horses aren't logical purchases.

We don't look at a horse and calculate its age, training, temperament, soundness, history, and suitability like we're buying a washing machine. We look at that horse and imagine our future together.

We picture ourselves riding down the trail, taking lessons, entering a show, teaching our children to ride, or standing in the pasture together at sunset. We imagine the horse becoming part of our story.

And sometimes, in that moment, we stop asking the most important question:

Is this actually the horse I need?

Instead, we ask:

How badly do I want this horse?

Those are two very different questions.

Start With the Job, Not the Horse

One of the things I wish more people understood when they start shopping for a horse is that the horse should be chosen based on what you want to do together—not the other way around.

I get questions all the time about what breed someone should buy or what a horse should look like. Those are reasonable questions, but they're actually not the questions I would start with.

The first question I would ask is:

What do you want to do with the horse?

That answer can completely change the kind of horse you should be looking for.

If your dream is endurance riding, for example, you probably want to start researching breeds that have historically been developed for stamina and distance. Arabians are an obvious place to look, and Thoroughbreds can also make excellent endurance horses. That doesn't mean every Arabian or Thoroughbred will be a good endurance horse, or that another breed can't do endurance. It simply means you're starting your search in a place that makes sense for the job.

If barrel racing is your goal, a Quarter Horse is an obvious breed to consider because the breed was developed with the athleticism, acceleration, agility, and build that can make it well suited to that type of work.

If your goal is primarily trail riding, your priorities may look completely different. You might value a calm temperament, sure-footedness, and a comfortable ride more than speed or explosive athleticism. For someone who plans to spend hours on the trail, gaited breeds can be worth considering because their natural gaits can provide a very comfortable ride over long distances.

And if your goal is to teach your children to ride, your list changes again.

Now temperament, reliability, age, training, and a horse's ability to tolerate mistakes may become far more important than breed or appearance.

That's why I get a little nervous when someone starts their horse search with, "What breed should I get?"

The answer is almost always, "It depends."

It depends on what you want to do.

It depends on how experienced you are.

It depends on how much time you have to ride and train.

It depends on whether you want a finished horse or a project.

It depends on whether you're looking for a competitive partner, a trail companion, a lesson horse, a family horse, or simply a horse you can enjoy around the barn.

And yes, eventually, it can depend on breed and conformation.

What Does Conformation Have to Do With It?

Conformation isn't about finding the horse that looks the prettiest standing in a pasture. It's about looking at how a horse is physically built and asking whether that structure is appropriate for the work you expect him to do.

Different disciplines place different demands on a horse's body.

A horse expected to spend hours covering miles of trail needs a body that can comfortably handle that workload. A horse expected to make rapid turns, accelerate, stop, and change direction for barrel racing has different physical demands placed on him. A horse competing in a jumping discipline needs to be able to handle the forces involved in jumping and landing.

That doesn't mean there is one perfect conformation for every discipline. Horses are individuals, and there are always exceptions.

But it does mean that what looks good to you isn't necessarily what is functionally good for the job.

This is where I think new horse owners can get themselves into trouble. They may know that they want a black horse, or a particular breed, or a certain height, but they haven't yet figured out what physical and mental characteristics will make that horse successful at the activity they actually want to pursue.

There's nothing wrong with wanting a black horse.

There's nothing wrong with having a favorite breed.

There's nothing wrong with being drawn to a particular look.

I have certainly done it myself.

But those things should come after you've figured out what you need the horse to do.

Think of It Like Hiring for a Job

One of the easiest ways to think about this is to imagine that you're hiring someone for a job.

If you were hiring a marathon runner, you wouldn't start by saying, "I want someone with brown hair."

You'd start by looking for endurance.

If you were hiring a sprinter, you'd look for a different set of physical abilities.

If you were hiring someone to work with children, you'd care about temperament and patience.

You'd figure out what the job requires and then look for a person who has the characteristics necessary to succeed in that job.

Choosing a horse should be approached in much the same way.

The discipline is the job description.

Breed can help point you toward horses that have historically been suited to that job. Conformation can help you evaluate whether an individual horse's body is appropriate for the demands you'll place on it. Temperament tells you whether the horse's personality fits the work and the rider. Training tells you what the horse can realistically do today.

And then there's the most important piece:

Does all of that fit you?

Because you can find the perfect endurance-bred horse, with excellent conformation and tremendous athletic ability, and still have the wrong horse if what you really want is a quiet weekend trail horse.

You can find a gorgeous, talented barrel horse and discover that you actually don't enjoy speed.

You can find a beautiful young horse with enormous potential and realize that what you really needed was an experienced horse who could teach you.

The goal isn't to find the best horse.

It's to find the best horse for the job you actually want to do and the rider you actually are.

Build Your Horse Search From the Inside Out

Instead of starting with color, breed, or a photograph, I encourage people to work outward.

Start with your goals.

Then think about the physical demands of those goals.

Then consider the breed types and individual horses that tend to fit those demands.

Then evaluate conformation, soundness, temperament, age, and training.

And finally, ask whether that particular horse is a good match for you.

By the time you get to color, you should already know whether the horse is a good candidate.

If he's black, too, that's just a bonus.

And honestly, if the perfect horse for you happens to be the wrong color, I'd encourage you to ride him anyway.

Because a few years from now, you're probably going to be much more attached to the horse than you are to the color you originally thought you wanted.

I know I am.

Potential Isn't the Same as Suitability

This becomes particularly important when you're looking at a horse that needs training, rehabilitation, or a second chance.

There is something incredibly rewarding about helping a horse. You see a horse who has been neglected, mistreated, misunderstood, or simply hasn't had the right person, and you start imagining what he could become.

Sometimes that vision is absolutely correct. Sometimes a horse really does blossom when someone finally gives him the right training, environment, and relationship.

But potential isn't the same thing as suitability.

A green horse may eventually become a wonderful riding horse, but that doesn't mean he's appropriate for a green rider. A reactive horse may become much calmer with the right training, but that doesn't mean every rider should be the one doing that training. A horse with a difficult history may thrive in the right environment, but that doesn't mean your experience, goals, family, or barn are the right environment for him.

Sometimes we fall in love with what a horse could be instead of honestly evaluating what that horse needs right now.

I think that's one of the easiest traps for horse people to fall into, especially when we genuinely want to help.

We tell ourselves that if we just work hard enough, love the horse enough, or give it enough time, we can make the relationship work.

But horsemanship isn't supposed to be about proving that you can handle a difficult horse.

It's supposed to be about creating a successful partnership.

The Horse You Need Has to Fit Your Life

When you're looking for a horse, the question shouldn't just be, What do I want to do with this horse? It should also be, What does this horse need from me in order for that relationship to work?

If you want to trail ride quietly on the weekends, do you really need the horse with the most athletic movement and the biggest personality? If you're a relatively inexperienced rider, do you need a horse who is still working through significant training issues? If your goal is to teach your children to ride, is the young, reactive horse you fell in love with really the right choice?

Sometimes the horse you need is not the most exciting horse in the barn.

It may be the older horse who has seen everything and doesn't care about much anymore. It may be the horse who isn't flashy but is steady and forgiving. It may be the horse who doesn't make your heart race every time you look at him because, instead, he makes you feel safe.

And there is a tremendous amount of value in that.

The right horse gives you room to learn. He gives you confidence. He allows you to make mistakes without turning every mistake into a crisis. He helps you become a better rider instead of requiring you to become an expert before you can safely enjoy him.

Sometimes Loving a Horse Means Letting Go

One of the hardest lessons I've learned is that loving a horse doesn't necessarily mean keeping him.

Sometimes loving a horse means seeing that he isn't for you.

Sometimes it means admitting that the job you want him to do, is not what he wants to do.

And sometimes it means finding him a different home.

That can be incredibly difficult when you have already become emotionally attached. We tend to think that if we were the ones who rescued the horse, we are somehow responsible for keeping him forever. But rescue isn't about possession.

If you truly care about the horse, the goal should be finding the situation where he has the best chance of succeeding. Sometimes that situation is with you. Sometimes it isn't.

Recognizing that isn't failure. In many cases, it is one of the most responsible decisions you can make.

What Could I Do Differently Now?

First off, my home is always open to rescues, but if I were looking for a horse today, I would still fall in love, probably with the wrong horse. I'm a horse person. I'm not sure there is any way around that.

But I would give my heart a seat at the table instead of letting it run the entire meeting.

I would pay attention to temperament than color. I would think carefully about my goals, my experience, and the kind of relationship I actually wanted with the horse. I would look closely at the horse's history and pay attention to the things that made me uncomfortable instead of immediately trying to explain them away.

Most importantly, I would ask whether the horse's needs matched what I could realistically provide.

And I would be willing to walk away from a horse I loved if I knew we weren't the right match.

Because I've learned something that took me more than a few bad rides, and eventually a broken clavicle, to fully appreciate:

You don't just choose a horse. You're choosing a relationship.

And the best relationship isn't necessarily the one that looks the most impressive from the outside.

It's the one where the horse is getting what he needs, the rider is getting what she needs, and both of them have a chance to succeed.

Maybe you walk into a pasture and immediately notice the gorgeous dark bay. Maybe it's the flashy paint, the beautiful palomino, or the athletic horse who looks like he could take you straight into the winner's circle. Maybe it's the horse with the sad story that makes you want to save him.

Those things can all be part of the decision.

They just shouldn't be the decision.

Because sometimes the horse you need is standing quietly beside the one that caught your eye.

He may not be the horse you imagined.

He may not have the flashy movement or the dramatic story. He may not make your heart race when you first see him. But he might be the horse who makes you feel safe enough to breathe, learn, and actually enjoy the ride. After all these years around horses, I've learned to appreciate that more than I ever appreciated a beautiful coat.

The horse you want might make your heart beat faster.

The horse you need might make you feel at home.

***This one is for you Kynzlie and Fable- You loved her and she taught you how to ride and trust, and gave you so much confidence, but she didn't align with your barrel racing goals, and I knew you would soar when you found your wings (hooves)***