13/06/2026
Here's something most horse people feel but don't often say out loud: we really need our horses to love what we do with them.
Not just tolerate it. Not just comply. Love it.
Ears forward over the fence. The horse who self-loads onto the float. The nickers at dinner time.
That need is understandable. Most of us got into horses out of genuine love for them.
The idea that our horse might find competition stressful, or find jumping aversive, or find the whole enterprise something to be endured -that's not something to make us feel comfortable, especially when our horsey lives are central to our identity, our community, weekends, sense of who we are.
So we look for the signs that confirm what we hope. And horses, being the socially sensitive, human-attuned animals they are, give us plenty to work with. Enthusiasm at feed time means enthusiasm for riding. Compliance with our cues as enjoyment of the activity. The impatience in the collecting ring is a desire to get out and show off in front of the crowd.
A lack of overt distress, calmness and responsiveness- a horse that is coping well and maybe even having fun.
Nearly three decades of equitation and equine behaviour science asks us to be a little more careful here.
What we know that horses are strongly motivated by predictability, social connection with each other and us if there's no equine friends around, food, and the relief from fear and pain.
They form habits quickly and repeat those habits without necessarily considering if it is what they want to be doing.
They learn quickly what precedes what. A horse who loads calmly may simply be doing what he has always done, not because he loves competition. A horse who moves forward from light cues in an arena may be responding to learned cues in a familiar environment. These are not small things. They tell us the horse is probably in an OK place. But they don't tell us the horse is having a good time, especially in the way we imagine.
The harder question:whether horses, given genuine choice, would select the activities we value is almost never asked. Partly because it's methodologically difficult do research and partly because we're not sure we want the answer.
What we do know is that horses show us stress, conflict, and discomfort in ways that are easy to spot if we're looking for them: tense and busy mouths, foamy saliva, wrinkled eyes, swishing tails, sweating up, ear posture changes in breathing.
We also know that in competitive environments, those signals are routinely interpreted as excitement, or keenness, or just "how this horse goes," because the alternative interpretation is too uncomfortable to sustain.
So calm, well trained horses, ridden by sensitive riders who release at the right time and use the least amount of pain from bits and spurs as cues are probably not miserable. They are probably fine. But "probably fine" and "loves it" are different claims.
The belief that our horses love what we do with them is, at its heart, a desire that our relationship with them costs them nothing.
But to sustain that we have to look away or not see the many different ways that horses tell us they don't enjoy what we do to and with them. That doesn't mean that using them to fulfil our goals and dreams is inherently a bad or immoral thing to do.
But genuinely caring for them means seeing things from their perspective and not allowing our hopes to blind us to their reality.