09/07/2026
WE ARE NOT CLOSING...THIS IS SHARED!
You’re Sad We’re Closing… But Were You Willing to Keep Us Open?
I had a bit of an epiphany this morning.
Maybe it came from spending the last several weeks sorting through 30 years of running a horse business, preparing to sell equipment, watching other farms and barns close, and hearing the same thing over and over:
“It’s so sad to see all these horse farms and businesses closing.”
And you know what?
It IS sad.
It’s sad to watch boarding barns disappear. Lesson programs shut down. Trainers quit. Small feed stores close. Breeders disperse their herds. Family farms sell. Horse professionals who have spent decades building their businesses finally throw their hands up and say, I’m done.
But here’s the part nobody really wants to talk about.
While everyone is sad that these businesses are disappearing, many of those same businesses have spent YEARS hearing:
“Why is board so expensive?”
“Why did your lesson prices go up?”
“Can you give me a discount?”
“I found someone who will do it cheaper.”
“Why are you charging me for that?”
“That’s way too much for a used saddle.”
“Hay doesn’t cost THAT much.”
“I can buy one cheaper online.”
And my personal favorite underlying sentiment:
But you love horses.
Yes.
We do.
That’s probably why most of us stayed in this industry far longer than good financial sense would have suggested.
The Horse Industry Is a Service Industry
Something occurred to me that I don’t think we acknowledge enough:
Most horse businesses are hospitality businesses.
They’re just hospitality businesses with livestock, mud, manure, tractors, fences and an absolutely ridiculous amount of overhead.
Think about it.
A boarding barn provides accommodations, maintenance, utilities, sanitation, security, customer service and daily care.
A lesson barn provides facilities, equipment, trained horses, scheduling, education, safety management and an experience.
A trainer provides years — often decades — of education and experience, while maintaining the facilities, equipment and infrastructure necessary to provide that service.
A horse camp, clinic, show facility, trail operation, breeding farm, tack shop or boarding stable is providing a SERVICE to its customers.
Except unlike most hospitality businesses, our “equipment” eats three times a day.
It needs the farrier.
It needs the veterinarian.
It needs dentistry.
It needs bedding.
It needs fencing.
It needs water.
It needs hay.
It needs somebody there on Christmas morning, during the blizzard, when it’s 105 degrees outside, and at 2:00 in the morning when something is wrong.
And those expenses don’t stop because we didn’t have enough customers this week.
Passion Doesn’t Pay the Feed Bill
There is a very strange mentality surrounding businesses built around something people love.
If you love horses, somehow you’re not supposed to care very much about making money from them.
Charging enough to actually cover your expenses can be viewed as greedy.
Charging enough to PAY YOURSELF can practically feel scandalous.
God forbid the business makes enough money for the owner to have health insurance, take a vacation, replace worn-out equipment, build an emergency fund or someday retire.
But that’s what a sustainable business is SUPPOSED to do.
A business that only makes enough money to survive until the next emergency isn’t thriving.
It’s dying slowly.
And I think an awful lot of horse businesses have been dying slowly for years.
We just didn’t recognize it because the doors were still open.
Cheap Has a Cost
Everybody has a budget. I understand that better than most.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with shopping around, looking for bargains, buying used equipment or deciding that something simply isn’t within your budget.
But there is a difference between “I can’t afford that” and “You shouldn’t charge that.”
Those are two VERY different statements.
Your inability — or unwillingness — to pay the price of a service doesn’t necessarily mean the business is charging too much.
Sometimes it simply means the service costs more to provide than you can afford.
And continually forcing horse businesses to compete on who can operate the cheapest eventually has consequences.
Maintenance gets deferred.
Equipment doesn’t get replaced.
Staff can’t be hired.
Owners work more hours themselves.
Prices stay artificially low.
Margins disappear.
Burnout grows.
And eventually?
The For Sale sign goes up.
Then suddenly everybody says:
“It’s such a shame they’re closing.”
We Can’t Have It Both Ways
This is the part I think our industry desperately needs to understand.
We cannot demand cheap horse services AND expect healthy, financially sustainable horse businesses to exist everywhere we want them.
We can’t complain that the local lesson barn charges too much and then complain when there isn’t a lesson barn within 50 miles.
We can’t demand bargain boarding prices and simultaneously expect beautiful fencing, maintained arenas, clean facilities, quality hay and somebody watching our horse around the clock.
We can’t nickel-and-dime our local tack store and buy everything online, then be heartbroken when the tack store closes.
We can’t expect trainers, instructors, barn owners and other professionals to continually absorb rising expenses without raising their prices.
Something eventually has to give.
And very often, that “something” is the person running the business.
Burnout Isn’t Just Being Tired
I think we misunderstand burnout in the horse industry, too.
Burnout isn’t simply:
“I’ve worked too hard and I’m tired.”
It’s responsibility without relief.
It’s financial pressure.
It’s physical exhaustion.
It’s being responsible for living animals 365 days a year.
It’s constantly solving problems.
It’s missing holidays.
It’s repairing fences.
It’s frozen pipes and broken tractors and vet emergencies.
It’s managing employees.
It’s dealing with customers.
It’s answering messages at ridiculous hours.
It’s pouring your knowledge, your body, your property, your money and sometimes your entire identity into something…
…and repeatedly having people tell you it’s too expensive.
Do that long enough and eventually even someone who LOVES the work starts asking:
Why am I doing this?
And Then We Mourn Them When They’re Gone
That’s the irony that hit me this morning.
We mourn these businesses AFTER they’re gone.
We share the closing announcement.
We talk about how sad it is.
We reminisce about taking lessons there as kids.
We complain about another farm becoming a subdivision.
We wonder why nobody teaches beginners anymore.
We wonder where the affordable boarding barns went.
We wonder why young trainers aren’t opening businesses.
Maybe instead of only asking:
“Why are all these horse businesses closing?”
We need to start asking:
“Did we support them enough to stay?”
Because liking their page isn’t supporting them.
Telling everyone how wonderful they are isn’t enough.
Being sad when they’re gone certainly doesn’t pay their bills.
Patronizing them does.
Paying professionals fairly does.
Buying from local businesses does.
Respecting their pricing does.
Understanding that expertise has value does.
And recognizing that a business owner deserves to make an actual living — not merely scrape together enough money to keep providing everyone else with a service — absolutely does.
After 30 years in the horse industry, I don’t believe most people running these businesses expect to get rich.
Most would probably laugh at the suggestion.
But they should at least be allowed to build a sustainable life from the work they provide.
Because once they’re gone, they’re gone.
And we’re rapidly discovering something we probably should have understood a long time ago:
You cannot love having horse businesses in your community only after they close.
You have to value them while they’re still there.
