Chestnut Mares Are Evil

January 23 2016

By The Honest Trainer


Only a few horses in my adult life have ever brought me to tears on a regular basis.

Caché was the worst.

To give you more of an insight, the other girls referred to her as “Cat #$%#” and the head trainer had given up a long time ago. Caché had everything going for her. She came from excellent breeding lines, could jump the moon and had the most mesmerizing trot I’ve ever seen. Yet on a regular basis, in fluent equine, she said, “not today”.

She messed with all of us. One day she would be perfectly behaved and we would really think we were getting somewhere. Then the next day she would refuse to perform the exact same task. I watched so many new girls come in with determination that they would be the one to win her over, but in time, all failed miserably.

The day she flipped over on me was my breaking point. It took me four hours to get her onto the horse trailer. Four hours. But I did it. I drove off to the horse show smiling as if I had captured a mass murderer in my police car and was finally bringing her to jail. Caché had indeed been captured and she knew it. But she would make sure that I would never want to capture her again.

For this type of show, we rode in teams over large fields, jumps and woods. Other teams would pass us from time to time, and Caché became more agitated at every instance. Eventually, she said, “I'm done", reared up and flipped completely over. Down a hill… on top of me.

I obviously survived physically, but mentally that sort of thing can do a number on a trainer. Nothing reminds you that you are working with a 1,000-pound animal quite like them landing on top you. In the end, like all the others, I failed at winning her over, but I learned valuable lessons along the way, which in my mind is still winning.


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