Most people aren’t aware there are 300+ horse magazines. If they are aware, they might think the editors and writers would be snippy toward each other, because it’s such a competitive market. But it’s just the opposite. Sure we’re competitive when it comes to trying to develop the best product. But there’s a great sense of camaraderie, and you’d be surprised to find how often competitors help each other.

I thought how much professional associations are like horse shows. Some horse show environments are downright socially hostile, with newcomers made to feel like permanent outsiders. But other shows encourage people to pull together, to network, to have fun around a barbeque — even though when it comes to competition, there’s only one blue ribbon per class.

Developing an atmosphere where friendships develop among competitors takes a lot of work and forethought on the part of the organizers, but the results are worth the effort. It’s great for the sport, the industry, and the individuals who attend.

By the way, our team cheered as friends won awards at the awards dinner. But we can’t help a little brag when we tell you that Perfect Horse and The Trail Rider won our fair share, too. Having a new certificate to hang on the wall — the equivalent of a horse show ribbon — is great. But having your peers cheer for you is even better. It inspires you to come home and do a great job, so you look forward to the event again next year.

Instead of handing him the towels, she came out into the waiting room with a mop and headed across the room. It seems that someone had over-watered a big plant, and she was about to mop up that giant puddle. My husband was horrified as the woman chattered away, saying that puppies pee on the floor all the time. He had been embarrassed about the little five-inch puddle, but now he was even more so.

Of course, when he thought about it, he knew she knew all that water couldn’t have come from his little puppy, but it didn’t change the feeling at the moment. Since then, we’ve laughed at how often we become embarrassed about something that our pets do — as if it were a reflection of us. A total lack of manners in a mature animal we’ve owned for awhile, is, of course, a different matter. But we have to remember that our dogs and horses are not little clones of us.

More than once, I’ve seen a rider get angry with his horse, accusing the horse of trying to make him look bad. If a horse gets upset, his focus is on himself, not on the rider’s public image. Though I will admit, it seems that horses have a knack of keeping us humble.

They say that our horses become a mirror of ourselves, but that proverb has its limitations. I’m friendly and outgoing, and my horse Calvin — well, let’s say he is more like Eeyore in Winnie the Pooh. I’ve learned not to try to impress people with how much my horse appears to love me.

In my storybook world, my horse whinnies and eagerly trots to the gate when he sees me approach, particularly when I’m with important people. But my Calvin does the opposite — he pretends to be invisible, or worse yet, he treats me as if I’m invisible. Despite my having trained him to come on cue, when other people are present, I have to be within 30 feet for him to amble over to me, however reluctantly. 

So I’ve learned that puppies will be puppies, and horses will be horses — even the ones you love. That’s why you pack carrots, so you can munch on them while you cool off.

When I finally talked with a live person, who of course, wasn’t the person that I needed to talk with, I was told that I couldn’t possibly do what I was asking. I nicely said that I was sure I could, but their website didn’t offer me the necessary information. I was put on hold while they talked with a supervisor. Six minutes later, I was transferred to a different department, who again told me that I had hit a dead end. When I asked to speak with a supervisor, I was put on hold again. Finally, I was transferred to the sales department (this for a site that is four-years-old). Yet another “can’t do that.”

I again pressed the point, and was transferred finally to someone who really knew her stuff. She was great, knew exactly what I was asking, and told me how to get it done. She apologized for the long wait.

I was impressed with the woman’s competence and attitude, though my confidence in the company had been somewhat undermined. Had I hung up before speaking with the last woman, there’s no way that I would use that web-host company, never mind refer a friend.

Trust is sometimes given freely, and sometimes hard earned. But it doesn’t take much to shake it, whether in our business, our family, friends, or with our horses.

It’s obvious that we undermine our efforts when jerk the reins after trying to get our horse to trust our hands. But it’s not so obvious that we’re undermining trust when we ask our horse for the umpteenth time to do a particular maneuver. He may start out not knowing exactly what we want. When he gets it, we’re happy. But then sometimes we drill so long that he wonders if it’s the right answer after all. So he tries something else. Then we get angry, accusing him of an attitude problem. When we scold him, we break trust, and we teach him to quit trying.

What if, instead of merely frustrating me on the phone, that company had a message at three minutes that apologized for the wait, and told me it would be another 30-plus minutes on hold but reassured me they wouldn’t drop my call? What if they offered to let me leave my number and they’d call me back?  Those messages would have been like carrots, telling me that I was on the right track, continuing my confidence. Instead, I held on only because I didn’t have any other option, but I wasn’t happy about it.

Each time we ride, we have opportunities to frustrate our horse or to give him the equivalent of a carrot. What if, when schooling your horse, you give him a little break after he does something right?  You ask for a left-lead canter, and when he gives it to you, only have him canter six or seven strides before softly letting him come back to a relaxed walk. You didn’t make him canter so long that you had to kick him to keep him going. Next time you ask for the canter, he may think, “That isn’t such a tough request.”

Lately, I’ve become more impressed than ever that a little encouragement at the right time is worth a whole bunch, and that trust is fragile. Have a good week, and don’t forget to treat someone with a carrot.

I laughed, and asked if he didn’t owe me an apology. See, I’ve been a Mac user for forever, and Chris used to tease me mercilessly from high atop his PC ivory tower. He said that since he got an iPhone, he’s “been enlightened.” I said that “being enlightened” wasn’t an apology. He said that he had been wrong. I said that wasn’t an apology. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry that I ragged on you for so many years about your Mac.” I said, “Apology accepted,” and we had a great laugh.

I got to thinking how much the PC vs Mac battle is like some of the horsemanship discussions I hear. If you’re not into a particular discipline, you may not experience it. But if you travel is some circles, you know what I mean. In nearly every discipline, you’ll find the people who know their stuff and you’ll also find the groupies. The groupies really want to be accepted, so they rigidly adopt the culture of the group as if that was the sum total of good horsemanship, and frequently they put down anybody who isn’t in their group. For instance, people who don’t know anything about dressage (but have friends who put dressage riders down) are surprised when they learn that natural horsemanship techniques involve the same sensible thinking good horsemen have held throughout the ages.

Chris hadn’t used a Mac. He didn’t know anything except what his PC buddies had told him, so he put the Mac down. But now, like any newly converted person, he feels empowered and maybe just a little superior, even to those who had been on his new track for years. Spend a day with a new non-smoker, and you’ll experience the same thing.

The lines may be clear when it comes to PC/Mac or smoking/non-smoking, but they’re less clear when it comes to styles of horsemanship. We don’t have to live in an either-or world. Top horsemen tend to see the commonalities in styles of training or riding. Good horsemanship involves a blend of technique and common sense, not just blind devotion to technique. 

So, if you’re stuck in an either-or line of thought, have a carrot and relax. If you have friends who are stuck, love them anyway. Like my buddy Chris, they might just “become enlightened.”