Horse heartache and changing dreams

by Amy Ryals

Tough love and a good horse.

My love affair with all things equine began, on my first birthday, when I was given a bouncy horse. I would ride it until I fell asleep, and that passion has grown for over 50 years. I have had many horses in my lifetime, and been fortunate enough to work with hundreds. It would seem that it might be hard to connect to just one, on a soul level, but that’s exactly what my relationship with a little Morgan mare, named Cassie, felt like.

It was the kind of friendship that felt like home. She’s the horse who taught me the value of being true and honest about who I am. She showed me how to be congruent in all my dealings with equines, and humans, in my life. Cassie is the horse who taught me the value and importance of breathing. That might seem crazy, but I meet riders all the time who don’t even know what it feels like to breathe.

She taught me about my insecurities, and driving perfectionism, and she, gently, guided me toward letting go of both. She was my teacher, friend and partner in helping others develop better horsemanship. We didn’t start out there. It took a couple of years to come together. She held a lot of anxiety, and, it turns out, I did too. Mine was twisted around a lot of self imposed, unrealistic expectations of myself, and hers were from not understanding what it was that these humans really wanted from her.

She was patient, though, as we struggled together, and we peeled away the layers of misunderstanding. It wasn’t a malicious endeavor to humble me. It was more like a steady chiseling away at the things I needed to let go of, in order to see and hear her clearly. Some days were painful, and I thought of quitting, but she kept giving me another chance to get it right and, eventually, I did.

She showed me tough love on more than one occasion. She never did anything terrible, but she let me know she wasn’t okay with how I was asking for things. She showed me the way to understanding her language better, and how to be lighter, and more intentional, in my interactions with horses. She was quick to forgive and we gradually built a partnership. I learned to listen and trust a horse on a level that I had only dreamed of. It felt like the magical stuff you see in a Disney movie, and I was proud of all that we had accomplished together.

She gave me the most amazing gift a horse has ever given me. Her heart was mine, and she held mine with such care that even when she left, she took the reins and gently led the way.

Saying goodbye.

Cassie had not been well for a while. She was 26 years old and was struggling to get around, and suffered from an illness that we couldn’t recover from. I made sure that her life was only about making each day special. We just spent time together, and I gave her all the care I could offer.

I knew she was beginning to have more painful days than good ones. I made the appointment with our vet, and I planned a whole morning of pampering for her. We would do a massage session with our favorite body worker, and then a good tail washing, which she always loved. I trimmed her feet, and made a plan for her grave to be prepared. That was all supposed to happen on a Thursday.

I had everything in order, and I was trying to prepare my heart for what was to come. I knew she was ready to go. I could feel it every time I was with her. I could sense her longing to be out of pain and her gently nudging me toward what she needed. On Wednesday, a week ahead of my planned day of sending her off my way, she took matters into her own hands.

I handed her a handful of cookie crumbs, as I cleaned out a container, and she choked. I called the vet, in a panic, as choke is so scary and stressful. The vet was here in just minutes, and before I could really even comprehend what was happening, she was gone. It was so simple and so true to her nature that I just stood amazed, as I watched her leave us.

She went on her own terms, and all my plans of sending her off were gone. It was quick and over, and she was gone. I had no idea the wreck of a human I would be after that, but it has been a year, this week, and I still have tears as I write this. Time may never heal this wound, but there are a couple things that make it easier.

Changing dreams and healing.

Recently, I have taken a step back and have been re-evaluating what my goals are, and more importantly, my dreams. I think, as we get older, we forget that we still need to have dreams and chase them. One of my dreams is to raise a foal, for myself to ride, and show, and do all the fun things with.

I started pursuing this dream with Cassie, and we couldn’t ever get her settled in foal, so I tried with another mare and we got to the 4 month mark and lost that foal. Last year, I won a breeding to a very nice Quarter Horse stallion and decided to try it, one more time, with my Quarter Horse mare. We were 48 days from our due date, and the foal got tangled up in the umbilical cord and died. Another loss and my head was reeling with questions. This was a really tough blow.

I have been deeply evaluating my life choices, the heartache that comes with having horses in it, and whether or not I even want to continue. I have taken the past month, since losing the foal, to do some soul searching and the only conclusion that I come to is YES! I will take the heartache. I will take the losses and the frustrations and all the feelings that come with grief, and I will keep going. I cannot imagine my life without these animals in it. I wouldn’t be the person I am without them.

The lessons they offer me each day, the richness they bring to my life, and the joy I get to feel because of them is far more that the hurt. I acquired a two year old filly last summer, just a few months after losing Cassie. She seems to know that my heart is heavy some days, and she already shows me so much kindness. She won’t ever take the place of my heart horse, but my heart is growing and I am starting to dream again.

I look forward to sharing miles with her and I am dreaming still of raising just one foal that I can ride in my retirement years. Funny thing about dreams is they aren’t always clear. They can be a little fuzzy sometimes, and that’s why we have to have goals. Goals are just a means of bringing our dreams to life. So, I’ll keep setting goals and chasing my dreams, and being grateful for every horse that has a part in this journey. I’ll keep reminding myself that dreams can change and goals can evolve, and any day with a good horse is a good day.

About the Author

Amy Ryals is a dedicated horse trainer and instructor based in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. With a foundation in dressage principles, she specializes in training for English and Western seats, as well as driving.

Amy emphasizes balanced horsemanship through proper groundwork, ground driving, and building a solid foundation to help horses become fluid partners. She is passionate about helping riders understand the "why" behind their interactions with horses, fostering clear communication and strong bonds between horse and rider.

Amy offers customized training plans, lessons, and clinics tailored to individual goals, and is committed to creating fun and rewarding experiences for both horses and their owners.

For more information or to get in touch with Amy, visit her website at Honestly Horses.

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this op-ed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy, position, or beliefs of Equine Balanced Support as a whole. Any content provided in this article is for informational and discussion purposes only and should not be construed as professional advice. Equine Balanced Support encourages open dialogue and diverse perspectives but does not endorse or take responsibility for any individual viewpoints presented herein.