Let Bentley be Bentley

Things have been a bit chaotic here this summer. We had a huge loss, a significant human injury (more on that later) and, amidst that, I decided it was time to make some decisions about Bentley.

Please note, this may come off whiny. For that, I apologize.

First off, I love my Benny. I have part owned/owned him for over a decade. He is the horse I consider to be the most complete reflection of me and how I train and interact with horses, good and bad. I will never sell him, and always consider myself solely responsible for his well being.

That said, he is a challenging case health-wise. After many years of trial and error, we have finally appeared to have worked out a management strategy for his allergies-to-everything. On a side note, my farrier recently described him as that poor kid at the playground with a fanny pack full of EpiPens because he is allergic to sun, grass, and pretty much everything else. 

I need the horse equivalent of this

Ben also has a long list of past injuries – hip issues, removed teeth, and the latest stifle injury. He’s rehabbed from them all quite nicely, but, added up, it has meant very little progression riding-wise over his 12 years. 

As with most horse owners, my priority will always be his comfort and happiness, so I feel selfish even saying that I have spent almost every summer a bit disappointed that it will be another year that I will not be able to progress and show. I hesitated with setting goals with him beyond basic training, because I fully expected something to happen that would blow those plans out of the water, as it has for at least the last three years that I have seriously focused on developing him.

This year was especially tough. We had a great winter, he was working wonderfully. Allergies, hips, and everything else were managed. I started to dream a little, and we set a goal to move up to first level by the end of the summer. It was maybe a week after that when he injured his stifle. I watched his topline disappear virtually in front of my eyes. When I started riding him to rehab him, it was like I was riding the 7-year-old Ben again. Not back to square one, but pretty close.

I ride on eggshells, worried about any not-quite-rightness. It may be part self-fulfilling prophecy, and I realize that I am very fortunate to have him relatively healthy and in my life. But, I also started feeling like it was also selfish of me to push him towards a competitive life, when that was not the path he was meant to be on.

I talked it over with a lot of people-mostly because I felt guilty, like I was giving up on him. I think he does have potential, and he likes his work. Am I considering throwing that all away?

I think my coach summed it up best, saying that I wasn’t giving up on him, I was just letting him be himself: a lovely goofball who is a safe, kind mount for almost anyone. He is a fun horse, and I won’t stop riding him and pushing him to reach the height of his potential. But, I’m happy if that potential reaches as far as our weekly trail rides and some relaxing time working on the basics in the arena. It’s not retirement, but a life of lowered expectations. So far he seems to be enjoying it. Me too. 

Not a bad place to be