Happy Hearts Horsemanship

10/14/2026

1. Halter with feel and connection vs just slapping the halter over their nose and poll

2. Make sure you're tying the halter knot around the loop and not above the loop. This is so you can always loosen the knot if you have a pull back scenario

3. Teach your horse how to follow a feel of the lead rope vs dragging them wherever you go

4. When sending off in a circle be clear with the direction you're asking on the line and walk into their barrel and use your aids there to get them to move off. Walk in a forward circle. Avoid stepping away as that will just draw them into the middle instead of out and around you.

10/10/2026

I just keep keeping on. Mr. Cosmo learned how to move over to the panel for mounting in like 2.5 seconds. Smart boy. Then it was time for Moxy time and I discovered an easier way to dismount, also using the panel ❤️

10/09/2026

A little evening playtime with Moxy! 🐴❤️

We’ve been spending a little time each evening just playing around with different groundwork ideas and seeing what we can figure out together. Nothing too serious, no pressure to get everything perfect, just having fun, experimenting, and building on what we know. I've also been riding him ba****ck until my hips are comfortable in a saddle again.

Is it perfect? Definitely not! 😂 But after having such a long break, I’d say we’re not doing too badly!

Sometimes the best progress comes from simply showing up, being curious, and enjoying the process rather than worrying about getting everything right the first time. Every little session is a chance to learn something new about each other. ❤️

Here’s a little peek at one of the exercises we've been playing with lately!

10/03/2026

Oh boy do I know this one. My knee injury is one of those mistakes. I have evaluated what happened and it falls on me, I know the moment when things went south and what I can do to prevent it in the future and now I'm have a great example of what not to do while mounting. Unfortunately it took a huge injury for me to learn this one but learn I did. 😰

Stuff can go wrong. Oh boy can it go wrong

If you’re around horses, it’s not a matter of if, but when.

But whether or not you learn from them, or become a victim of circumstance and chance is totally up to you.

The moments after a wreck or accident matter. Once you’ve all regrouped, attended to what needs attending to - injuries, repairs, some deep breathing - it’s time to take stock in what happened.

There are SOME freak accidents, but most could have prevented. Could’ve would’ve should’ve is actually helpful when trying to learn from a situation. At this point you have several options: let your pride and embarrassment swallow up any chances of learning and pretend it isn’t in any way your fault, or, become so engrossed in self blame that you are wallowing in pity to the point you can’t move on.

Being that neither one is super helpful, another option is:

Try to remember what happened.
What went wrong? Can you pinpoint an actual moment? Was there a judgement call made that turned out to not be right?

Were there skill sets missing on your part or the horses or those around you?
Were emotions involved? Time constraints? Social pressures?

What regrets do you now have that can help move you forward in a positive direction?

I find guilt to not be super productive because of its close association with shame - but some amount allows us to look accurately at what needs to change.

To err is human, to forgive divine -
But forgiving ourselves, I believe, means learning from the mistake so we can prevent it from happening again.

And if possible, make amends with those we failed. Ignorance harms many horses - we can’t avoid making mistakes from ignorance. But we can help those we have from our learning or pay it forward.

My path to education is littered with mistakes. Many very, very preventable that I now can help guide people to avoid. I owe a lot of horses many apologies for my ignorance and sometimes emotional interferences - and I try my best to now pay that forward. I’m sure there will be more, but each time I learn better how to accept my mistake without deflecting blame and trying to make up for it.

It can be pretty hard to be human sometimes. Horses are masters at teaching us how to be the best humans we can be.

Here’s me getting very lucky and learning from one such mistake

10/03/2026

Happy Friday everyone! I hope you all had a great week. ❤️

10/02/2026

There are some really great points in the comments on this subject! When you know better hopefully you do better ❤️

09/27/2026

So true.

09/27/2026

A little injury recovery update ❤️

Since starting to use my braces, my knee is slowly but surely beginning to regain some of the range of motion we’ve been working so hard for. That’s encouraging news! The downside is that my medical team has increased the amount of time they want me wearing the brace, so recovery is still taking up a pretty significant part of my day.

I had really hoped to be back to at least one lesson a day by now, but my top priority right now is getting this knee bending properly so I can eventually walk normally again.

Between managing my family’s needs, farm chores, PT, chiropractic appointments, medical appointments, and now 4–6 hours of bracing each day, most of my time is pretty well spoken for. I am fitting in a few lessons here and there when I can, but getting back to my regular schedule has been much more challenging than I anticipated.

I’m incredibly grateful for everyone’s patience and understanding while I work through this. I miss being able to do what I love at the pace I’m used to, and I’m very much looking forward to getting back to work more consistently.

This recovery is just taking longer than I expected. But I’m making progress, and I’m going to keep putting in the work. ❤️

Thank you for sticking with me while I heal!

09/25/2026

I have a very vulnerable story for you all. This is Winston's story.

Winston taught me that not every horse can be rehabilitated.

Years ago, near the beginning of my business, I rescued a horse from a kill pen.

I bought him sight unseen—the first and last time I have ever done that.

He was a stunning black-and-white Paint gelding. When he arrived, he was underweight, mane and tail covered in cockleburrs, and sick with pneumonia. But what struck me most were his eyes.

They were full of kindness.

And absolute fear.

Fear of people. Fear of being touched. Fear of being caught.

The sale yard estimated his age at 10–12. The veterinarians later estimated him closer to 16–18.

I spent months simply getting him healthy and comfortable enough to be around me. Once he was strong enough, I gave him a herd. Watching him with other horses was incredible. His personality began to emerge. He was curious, gentle, and content.

But the fear of humans remained.

For two years, I worked on something as basic as touch and haltering.

Eventually, I could touch him. I could sometimes halter him. I developed a way to get the halter on relatively quickly without sending him into complete flight.

But he was stuck.

He was trapped in a mental loop that I couldn't seem to help him escape.

I reached out to my mentor for guidance, and I kept trying.

But eventually, his basic care became a serious problem.

He desperately needed his feet done and a thorough veterinary examination. Yet putting a farrier or veterinarian in that position with a horse whose fear could send his adrenaline through the roof was dangerous.

And I had to ask myself a heartbreaking question:

What happens if he injures himself?

How do you treat a horse who cannot safely be handled?

At 16+ years old, after a lifetime of trauma, I wasn't sure Winston would ever be able to recover enough to live safely in the human world.

And I couldn't bring myself to pass that burden on to someone else.

So I made the hardest decision I have ever made for a horse.

I gave him one more summer.

He had his herd. He had forage. He had freedom. He had a full belly. And he had every bit of love I could give him.

I wanted him to know that not every human was going to hurt him.

When the day finally came, Winston was severely lame. I could only assume he had abscesses in his front feet that I had been unable to treat because of his fear.

It broke my heart.

But it also humbled me.

Because Winston taught me something I will never forget:

Not every horse can be rehabilitated.

And sometimes, there is a fate worse than death.

Winston wasn't born afraid of people.

Somewhere along the way, humans taught him that we were something to fear.

He had the softest eyes. He was a kind soul. I often wondered what he could have been if someone had simply treated him with kindness and understanding from the beginning.

His story changed the way I look at horses forever.

It made me realize just how much responsibility we have when we put our hands on these animals.

They aren't objects for us to control.

They aren't machines that should simply obey.

They are sentient beings with instincts, emotions, memories, and their own ways of communicating.

And there is another way.

We can listen.

We can guide instead of dominate.

We can give space when space is needed—and hold space when a horse needs support.

We can learn to communicate in a language they understand.

We can work with their instincts instead of constantly working against them.

We can create curiosity instead of fear.

Connection instead of shutdown.

Partnership instead of submission.

Winston also taught me something that I think is incredibly important:

It is often much harder to rehabilitate a horse from poor handling than it is to start a horse who has had little or no human contact.

We have to stop looking at unwanted behaviors as simply something the horse is doing to us.

The pushy horse.

The aggressive horse.

The fearful horse.

The shut-down horse.

The horse that won't catch.

The horse that explodes when pressured.

Sometimes, if we look closely enough, we can find the human story underneath the horse's behavior.

That doesn't mean every behavior is acceptable or every horse can be safely rehabilitated.

It means we have a responsibility to ask why before deciding how to respond.

Winston didn't get the happy ending I had hoped to give him.

But he gave me something I will carry for the rest of my life.

He opened my eyes.

He made me question what I thought I knew.

And he made it my mission to help people see horses differently.

To check ourselves.

To learn more.

To do better.

Because the horses don't need us to dominate them.

They need us to understand them.

And sometimes the most profound lessons come from the horses we couldn't save.