Well, I’d suggest those people should actually try riding the breeds they disparage and try understanding what those horses were bred to do. And they should try understanding their strengths and weaknesses and—especially—how most breeds can be adapted for other uses.

I’m a Thoroughbred man. I’ve had mostly Thoroughbreds all my life (I’ve owned more than a dozen of them), some directly off the track, some through an intermediate step, and two that we’ve bred. I don’t think you can beat the Thoroughbred for heart, courage, speed, stamina and just pure athleticism. I’ve raced them, foxhunted them, done dressage and jumper shows, and especially competed them in eventing. But, yes, they can certainly be challenging to ride. Thoroughbreds are usually (but not always) high-octane horses, mentally and physically, and they’re usually smarter and quicker in the brain than your average horse (sometimes a lot smarter and quicker).

I’m competing two Thoroughbred geldings right now, named Sisko and Shawn, and I have to be on my toes every day that I ride them, because they’re two of the smartest horses I’ve ever ridden, and they have to be challenged and entertained every day. I have to respect them, and they sometimes need to be reminded to respect me. But they teach me something every single day I ride them, at home or in competition.

Over the last few years I’ve gotten a chance to ride and train a pretty wide range of other breeds, and it’s broadened my appreciation of them. I’ve always tried to be open-minded toward different types and breeds of horses, but I’d say my appreciation has definitely increased. We’ve worked with Quarter Horses, warmbloods, Irish-breds, draft crosses and Arabians, and we’ve bred the two Thoroughbred broodmares we had to an Irish-bred and a warmblood to produce two fabulous fillies.

Two warmbloods have demonstrated to me the generous and kind temperament that makes people value them so. We have a German-bred Hanoverian named Schultz, who’s one of our schoolmasters, who’s the most willing and generous horse I’ve ever seen. Schultz is so absolutely hard-wired to be good that he gets genuinely upset if a student falls off him. He gets so worried that it was his fault that sometimes I have to get on him to reassure him. He stands 17.2 hands, and we can put absolute beginners on him (adults to 8-year-old kids) as well as more experienced riders. No matter who’s on him, Schultz just marches around the ring or goes hacking, taking care of whoever is on him.

The other warmblood is Panzyr, a 3-year-old Oldenburg stallion, whom I wrote about in my July 24 blog. He’s so balanced and supple that he rides like a much older horse, and he’s not yet said no to anything I’ve asked him to do. We like him so much that we have a weanling colt (who looks very much like him) and a weanling filly by him.

Over the last five years we’ve bred four draft-crosses out of the same draft mare (two by the Anglo-Arab sire Quartermaster and two by the Thoroughbred sire Reputed Testamony, both now deceased). I’ve started, competed and sold two of them, and next spring I’ll start riding the now 2-year-old filly, a process I’ll repeat in another year with her yearling full brother, unless we sell both of them before then.  They’re a blast to ride, a type that a lot of people would love because they’re forward but not fast; they’re nicely energetic, but when they get tired, well, they’re out of gas. The three oldest are excellent jumpers, and I think the yearling will be too. Twenty or 30 years ago I might have scoffed at the idea of riding a draft-cross, but no longer. I really enjoyed Cruiser and Seeker, and I’m eagerly awaiting the time to ride Sparrow and Ionto. 

Arabians are often derided for their skittish personalities and their upside-down way of going, and sometimes deservedly so. The direction some Arabian breeding has taken is horrifying, rather like what dog breeders have done to several dog breeds—breeding the athleticism and brains completely out in search of some inane standard of beauty.

But I’ve ridden three Arabians through 750 miles of endurance competition, and I can tell you that they’re gameness and stamina is truly amazing. It’s awe-inspiring to sit on a horse who seems to just get stronger and stronger the longer and farther you go. We’ve started two Polish-bred Arabian mares in the last 18 months, and both were a pleasure to deal with. One, who’s now lovely 4-year-old, is supposed to return to us next spring to train and sell as a lower-level event and dressage horse.

I’d only occasionally ridden Quarter Horses until the last year, when two arrived at our barn, both of whom I adore. They’re two very different horses, and neither is the “cow-bred” type of Quarter Horse, in build or temperament. (Actually, they’re both rather desperately afraid of cows.)

Apollo is a saint. In fact, we call him “St. Apollo.” He’s far from the brightest bulb in the box (for the first few months he was definitely a “special-education” project), but, like Schultz, he’s absolutely hard-wired to be good, to do what you’re telling him to do. I’ve competed successfully on him, and I found—and I tell our students—that if you’re having trouble doing an exercise, you can be sure it’s because Apollo doesn’t understand your aids. You can be sure you’re not being clear, that you haven’t explained it to him, because Apollo is trying his very best to figure out what you want him to do.

Alba, a mare I’m currently competing at training level in eventing and about to move up to preliminary exactly one year after her first-ever competition, is very different. She has her opinions, and she likes to do things her own way, which is usually very quickly. She’s sweet and relaxed on the ground, and your grandmother could take her for a walk around the countryside. But when you put her to work (especially if it involves jumping), she goes from 87 octane to 110 octane. Does she love to jump! I don’t know what I could build that would cause her to refuse. And she can jump much, much bigger than her diminutive 15.1 hands would suggest.

I’ll be competing Alba, Shawn and Sisko at preliminary level in the spring, and it’s a fascinating challenge because they’re all so different in size (Shawn is a stocky 15.3 hands and Sisko is a long and lean 17.2 hands), temperament and style. I remember interviewing Olympian Torrance Watkins at the 1984 Rolex Kentucky Three-Day Event, where I think she rode six horses, and asking her if it was hard to go so quickly from one horse to the next. She told me, so beautifully, “You know, it’s like having different dance partners, and moving from one to he other. You have to adapt your style to them to make the dance work. You have to figure out who likes to lead and who doesn’t, who has the rhythm and who doesn’t. I think it’s a wonderful challenge.”

Apollo is a Quarter Horse.

Seeker (below) and Sparrow (above) are draft-crosses and half-siblings.