I was lucky to have grown up in a small town in southern Wisconsin. Our Victorian home sat on the east bank of the Fox River, across from a Morgan horse farm, and the horse farm was the first thing I saw each morning. My days were spent with horses, thinking about horses or enjoying the outdoors in other ways, often with four-legged pets in tow.

To say that horses were important to me is an understatement – as a child, I was horse-crazy!  My family didn’t have horses, but I hung out with horse friends, read all the horse magazines and books I could find and dreamed of the day that I could have one of my own. Used tack and blankets cluttered my bedroom, as though buying the accessories of a horse would guarantee I get one.  As often happens, the dream slipped away during high school and university, buried under time demands for school and my early career.

In my 20s, however, I rediscovered my childhood love. While working as a University instructor, I connected with an amazing German dressage instructor, who bred Arabian horses and gave riding lessons on her Hannoverians and Arab crosses. She was “old school”, believing in the absolute care of the horse and in the importance of learning riding basics by taking the time it takes: endless lunge lessons, strengthening exercises on horseback and lots of flatwork. She stood two stallions, and I had the double blessing of learning the finer points of horse care in a professionally-run breeding operation. With her as my dressage instructor,  I rode, showed, and endlessly watched horse competitions. Many a weekend, I sat next to her at a horse show, learning what good gaits should look like from the ground and how not to mistake front leg “flash” for genuine engagement. As my riding progressed, I leased a horse and then bought my first horse, a 12-year old Morab.

By the time I was 30, I’d determined my chosen breed would be Iberian.  By that point, I felt pretty comfortable around horses and showing. I’d fallen in love with Andalusians, their looks, intelligence and temperament, but I wanted a horse with a little less “brio” and a lot less orbital movement.

My selected breed? Lipizzan, of course! But that’s a follow-up story.

Susan