A friend of mine lost her horse recently. He was older, and he died in the way we all dream for those we love—out in the field with his friends on a beautiful day, healthy and sound and full of life. And then gone, in an instant.

That doesn’t make it much better, of course; just because it’s a far cry from the slow decline and the tough choice doesn’t make it easy, just ever so slightly easier.

This horse had had an excellent competition career, but you’d probably never heard of him, or at least not heard much about him. But that wasn’t the thing that made him extraordinary. He’d brought countless young people up the levels. He gave his riders the big horse feeling for the first time. He taught them. He humbled them, often rather a lot. He made them.

Read the rest at The Chronicle of the Horse!

It’s a weird year for me. I’m teaching a ton of clinics, which I love, but it means I’m away from home a lot of weekends. And with only Puck to ride at the moment, who will be showing first level next month (woo) but not with any illusions of grandeur, my focus is on my students and on their competitive and personal goals.

The last time my coach, Michael Barisone, came down for a clinic was last fall, when I rode five horses and was, therefore, half the clinic. For this weekend’s visit, I rode one.

Read the rest at The Chronicle of the Horse!