Six horses for one person seems like a lot to the people who’ve made better life choices. In my defense, six horses makes total sense to the people who also ride coach in the crazy plane. The last time I told a non-horse person I had six horses, his response was that I must be doing well financially. I sent him this meme in response:
Accurate.
Six is enough. If I’m being honest, five was enough. Four was actually enough. Three was not, I needed more than three. But four, that’s where I should’ve stopped. Alas, God had other plans for me and they didn’t include overflowing coffers or mental wellness.
I have briefly outlined who these six equines are and how they came to be on my ranch on the Horses page. At the time of the writing of this post, four horses are rideable and two are not (one is retired, one is not trained to be ridden). It’s the plan that by hopefully April, the currently untrained horse will finally be trained and he can do more than transform hay into crap. Though he’s good at transforming hay into crap. Expert level.
When I went to pick up Hondo Lane (horse number six) after adopting him back in mid-May of 2023, the woman who I adopted him from said that Hondo, being my seventh horse, was a lucky number. I corrected her and said he would be the sixth. Her response was not comforting: “Oh, well then you should get two so you have seven.”
See, it makes sense to those of us in the know.
But I assure you that in Horse Girl Math, these horses do add up in a certain kind of way. Maybe this kind of math is algorithm of some kind.
Yes, I have six horses, but even though I have six (four rideable), there are days when I actually do not have a horse to ride. Let me break it down for you in a way that might make sense.
Dante
One, Dante (above) is 25 years old and is retired. In Horse Girl Math, he’s not even included in the numbers. Technically this means I don’t have six horses, I have five. Just roll with it for a second.
Nisha
My second horse, Nisha (above on the day I brought her back), is now 16. Ages matter here. 16 for an Arabian who didn’t really get started until she was 9 to 10, can be ridden successfully into her twenties, which is my plan. Arabians can live in excess of 30 years. She’s got a lot of miles ahead of her, but for sure, a 16 year old may not be as spry as an 8 year old. I’ve had Nisha since 2017 when she was 9. I know that’s a lot of numbers but this is a mathematical post.
Ransom
My third horse is Ransom and just turned eight. He is also an Arabian and though he was purchased more to save him from doom, he is also slated to be Nisha’s eventual endurance replacement. He is 8 years younger, and just getting started in endurance, and it is my plan to get more competitive with him when he’s 9 and 10 years old. That’s in one to two years, when Nisha will be 17 and 18. Okay? We’ll come back to the Arabians in a second, but let me plow ahead into the rest of the horse lineup.
Cat
My fourth horse is Cat, the free horse. Cat is my “every day” horse. She’s like a great pair of leggings, or very fashionable and comfortable shoes that are right for any occasion. She’s down for whatever, is adaptable, easy to work with, and loves to go out. If I have a need for a fun trail excursion, or want to just ride around the property for 20-40 minutes, Cat is my girl. She’s kind of the best. She’ll probably never run a 50 miler, but I am planning on taking her to a 25 mile ride just to see if she enjoys it, since she loves going out on trail and opening up.
Vander
My fifth horse, Vander, is the one who makes the least amount of sense. When people ask “What are you going to do with Vander?” my response is often: “That’s a great question.” Vander is enormous, both in height, presence, and bone mass. My dude has giant feet, thick legs, and a head carriage higher than Everest. He is the opposite of what one needs in an endurance ride. He will never do endurance. So why oh why did I get him? I’ve asked myself this many times over the past two years. The short answer is I’m a big softy. I saw video of him on Facebook looking scared and thin at a livestock auction site. There is more context to this story, but for the sake of brevity, my charitable inclinations took over and all of a sudden my fingers went into wild acts of convulsion and hit the “buy now” button. Let’s just say that the rescue horse scene is tough. What you see on Instagram with the before and after “glow ups” are performative. Rescuing horses is mother effing hard, expensive, and stressful. It is not for everyone. At the writing of this post, Vander is finally (FINALLY) in a training situation with a trainer I actually like. The first “trainer” I had him with turned out to be an A double S hole. I pulled him from that trainer and had to then work with him myself before finally finding someone competent.
Hondo Lane
My sixth horse was an emotional buy. Hondo Lane. He’s a now 7 year old off the track Thoroughbred (OOTB) that I got mid-May of 2023, two weeks before learning I had a dog with cancer. Hindsight is 20/20, there’s nothing I can change now. I’ve wanted a Thoroughbred for years, over a decade at least. Why? Well that’s also a good question, but there is a relatively decent answer that requires we go all the way back to the era of Dante. The truth is, as much as I love Dante and how much he’s done for me, I outgrew him years ago. I do not have the capacity to sell a horse, though I did consider it with Dante because I’d outgrown him. Dante has many wonderful qualities, but one that is not so wonderful is his penchant for laziness. I wanted a horse with a better work ethic, one who was more forward and more passionate for their job. Dante was not really that horse. But I couldn’t sell him.
The idea of putting him on a trailer and never seeing him again plunged me into dark despair. No. So I kept him and will keep him until it’s his time to cross over. One thing I wanted, when I boarded Dante all the way back when I was 23, was a Thoroughbred. Other people at my boarding facility had Thoroughbreds and I rode a few of them. They were forward, willing, happy to work, and athletic as hell.
Some 17 years later, it was finally my time to get one. Hondo Lane had been available for adoption for months with no one snatching him up. I’m not sure why I feel this way, but I have this notion that if something is available for long periods, I’m supposed to have it. I felt this way about my now house, two rescue dogs I have, and then Hondo Lane. When I went to check out the horse, I saw two things that I believed gave other adopters pause: one, he has a tendency to rock his head like an autist when stressed or excited. I saw him doing this while he was being tacked up for me to ride. I’ve since determined it’s a response to heightened emotions (either stress or excitement, it just depends on the situation) and what is known as “wall eye” or excessive white around the rims of one eye, making it look as though he’s looking upon you with great suspicion. But Vander already had that and I found it charming. You can see the “wall eye” here in the third photo above.
The first time I rode Hondo it had been the first time he’d been ridden in a while. He was fresh. “Fresh” is horse lingo for “He might kill you.” Equestrians have a tendency to downplay the danger. But once Hondo and I figured each other out and I asked for the canter, I fell in love. He is tall, dark, handsome and powerful. He made me feel like a pretty pretty princess and who doesn’t want that?
I know it’s going to sound silly, but riding Hondo makes me feel like who I’m supposed to be. That’s why I say he was an emotional purchase. I bought him for my future and whatever version of me I am supposed to become. 2023 turned out to be one of the most difficult years of my life, but it also highlighted a lot of changes I needed to make. Hondo helped usher that in. Maybe I’ll write more about this at a later date.
At the time of the writing of this post, Hondo is not being ridden. Why? His feet are being rebuilt. T-breds have awful feet, and this is new to me. My other five horses have great feet. Thick soles, thick walls, sturdy. Not Hondo. Paper thin soles meant he bruised and abscessed easily. His low heels meant his body was out of whack and he was probably sore all over. So we’re fixing that. But that means though he’s horse number six, he’s currently out of rotation. Let’s get back to math for a second.
One thing I wish more riders knew is that horses retain their shape far better than human beings. This means they do not need to train as often as we do. One of my “secrets” to endurance is giving my horses A LOT of rest between competitions. Nisha, who has hunted with me for a few months, is now on break until her first 50 miler of the year. So she’s not being ridden.
Ransom, the other Arabian, has done something unknown to one of his legs and is a bit lame. I’m trying to solve this right now, but in the mean time, he is also not being ridden.
For those doing horse math, that means he’s also out of rotation. 6 total horses, remember.
Cat, my “everyday horse” went on her first fox hunt just a few days ago. Trailering is usually more stressful and harder than riding. The hunt itself was maybe 10 miles. She killed it, but she’s also going to rest for a few days.
Vander is being trained to be ridden and is 2 hours away from me. He’s out.
And Hondo Lane, my thin-soled wonder, out on foot rest.
Six horses, none to ride for at least a few days until Cat is ready to go again. So you see? The math doesn’t always mean I have a horse to go out and ride. But every single horse still needs to be fed, sheltered, moved from pasture to pasture, grained, feet trimmed, wormed, etc.
Sure having 6 horses is nuts. But one is done, two don’t really get worked between competitions, one is being trained. When Hondo Lane is ready to go again, and when Vander is ready to be worked, well then I’ll be overwhelmed. But until then, all I do is work and hope for a fun day before the sweltering heat leaves me sweaty and sad.
