“It’ll never be the horses that make you want to quit this industry.”

And honestly? That’s not a quote. That’s a diagnosis.

Because the horses aren’t the problem. Sure, they spook at imaginary threats, lose shoes like it’s a competitive sport, try to starve to death between feedings, and occasionally audition for Yellowstone without warning. But we signed up for that. We like that. That part makes sense.

It’s the people that make you question your life choices.

It’s the Facebook experts who couldn’t halter a donkey in a round pen with a map. It’s the folks shopping for a fully vetted, dead-broke unicorn who can win barrels, do the kids’ lessons, trail ride on Sundays, and live forever all for twelve hundred dollars and a firm handshake. It’s the “I rode as a kid” crowd who thinks that somehow cancels out gravity and rust. It’s the ones who ghost faster than a lame horse at a pre-purchase exam. It’s the “quick tune up” brigade when what they really mean is, “Please undo every bad decision I’ve made with this horse since 2019.” It’s the drama - the kind that shows up early, stays late, and never pays board. And it’s the people who swear they don’t like you, don’t respect you, and don’t agree with anything you do… yet somehow never miss a single thing you post. Wild.

Meanwhile, the horses don’t lie. They don’t screenshot your conversations. They don’t spin stories, stir pots, or pretend to be something they aren’t. They just show up as exactly who they are, every single day. And somehow, that’s considered the “difficult” part of the job.

So yes - it was never the horses.

It’s surviving the circus around them.

And the crazy part? We still stay. Because the horses and only the horses make it worth it.