Here’s what I think.
To be an equestrian that gets somewhere, you need to have something special about you. You need to have the ability to take control of an animal that’s 12x your weight, but you also need to be able to be soft enough to earn that animal’s cooperation and trust.
Sometimes I see someone that is taking lessons and just adores being around horses, but they just don’t have it. They don’t have the edge it takes to ride. You have to be strong to succeed in this industry. You have to be strong as hell, you have to have zero tolerance for bullshit, and you have to be able to handle something that’s stronger than you are, but you also have to have a spark of kindness and goodheartedness in you.
Riding isn’t just something you learn to do.
Either you’re born with it or you’re not.
But that’s just my opinion.
Me: Fuck my life, saddle pad is backwards.
Me: Shit I forgot my girth again.
Me: I really need to clean my tack.
Me: I'll do that after I ride.
Me: ...
Me: Lol no I won't.
Me: Alright suck it in fatty.
Me: I know you're pushing out.
Me: -.- ..
Me: Seriously stop.
Me: Alright give me your nose.
Me: Stop resisting you're fine.
Me: Take the goddamn bit, goddamnit.
Me: Lol I'm like smashing his ears, my bad.
Me: Forelocks are such a hassle.
Me: Okay done, now let's not die today.
Me: I swear this horse rolls in mud on purpose just to piss me off.
Me: How does one creature acquire so much dust?
Me: This brush sucks.
Me: I don't even know why I have it.
Me: I don't even know where it came from.
Me: Or why I continue to use it.
Me: I'm brushing this horse and the dust just goes right back on.
Me: [continues brushing watching dust]
Me: What the fuck did you roll in?
Me: Oh shut up the spray bottle does not hurt you.
Me: You're fine, god.
Me: Bitch don't you dare bite me.
Me: Hoof picks with brushes are so much better.
Me: I don't even know why they make the other ones.
Me: Is that thrush? Shit.
Me: Nevermind no it's not.
Me: ...
Me: You would have to shit right now.
Me: Thanks a lot, really.
Me: Okay this is not a show, good enough.
Me: God this horse is such a pig.
Me: Like why is it necessary to spread hay around your entire stall.
Me: This is gonna take me like an hour.
Me: The next horse I have is going to be the most cleanly creature on the face of the planet.
Me: God this horse pees like a racehorse.
Me: Hah, wait. He is a racehorse.
Me: I'm hilarious.
Me: God this is so dusty.
Me: These shavings are shit.
Me: My nose. My nose has so much shit in it right now.
Me: He better appreciate this.
Me: He's probably having the time of his life outside right now. And I'm here, slaving away for him.
Me: I wonder if he knows how much I do for him.
Me: I wonder if horses know how much we do for them in general.
Me: I wonder if anyone knows how much anyone does for them.
Me: What is the meaning of life.
Me: What happens when we die?
Me: How will I die?
Me: What if I die on the way home?
Me: Who will be at my funeral?
Me: God seriously why must this horse circle so much.
Me: It's bullshit, really.
Me: Actually it's horse shit. Get it? Eh?
Me: Nobody would find that funny but me.
Me: Should I add more shavings?
Me: Look at this stall, it's beautiful.
