Blackwater Sport Horses

05/23/2026

Let’s Talk About…

Have Expectations in the Horse World Become Unrealistic?

Everyone wants the perfect horse. Safe, forgiving, uncomplicated, brave. Doesn’t spook, doesn’t buck, doesn’t react, doesn’t look at anything! I could go on and on.

But at what point did we stop expecting horses to behave like animals and start expecting them to behave like robots?

Somewhere along the way, the standard for what people consider “safe” has become almost impossible. A horse flicks an ear at something, he’s labeled as distracted. Has one playful buck, he’s dangerous. Spooks at a flower box? Well that’s unacceptable!

The reality is, horses are prey animals. They are living, breathing creatures with feelings. They have insecurities and they get nervous just like we do. Some days they are fresh and others lazy. Yet more and more, it feels like people expect horses to absorb every ounce of nerves, inconsistency, poor timing, lack of confidence and lack of bravery without ever putting a foot wrong themselves. And if the horse does react? Suddenly the horse is the problem.

The truth is, truly “safe” horses are incredibly rare. The horses that quietly tolerate mistakes and pack people around courses whilst forgiving bad distances and still show up every day trying their hearts out are worth their weight in gold. But even those horses are still horses. Horses are not machines. We shouldn’t be expecting them to be emotionless schoolmasters programmed to never look at anything or have an opinion.

And maybe the bigger conversation is this: Have riders lost some of their own responsibility to become braver, better, more understanding horsemen? Because to me, good riding has never been about finding a horse that never reacts. It’s about learning how to ride through the moments when they do. Not every horse is suitable for every rider and not every rider is suitable for every horse. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that.

Because sometimes the best amateur horse isn’t the quietest one in the barn, it’s the one that teaches the rider to improve instead of expecting the horse to be an emotionless robot and do all the work.

05/20/2026

In teaching hospitals across the country, something happens on a regular basis that the equestrian world has never quite managed to replicate, despite desperately needing it. Surgeons, residents, nurses, and department heads sit down together in a room and talk about what went wrong. Not in whispers. Not in lawsuits. Not in social media threads that run for three hundred comments before dissolving into personal attacks and tribal loyalty. They sit down, in a structured and deliberately nonjudgmental format, and they analyze adverse outcomes with one stated purpose: to prevent them from happening again.

These are called Morbidity and Mortality conferences or M&M conferences and they are among the most effective tools medicine has developed for systemic improvement. A patient died. A complication occurred. A decision was made that, in retrospect, was not the right one. The M&M conference creates a protected space to examine what happened, why it happened, what the decision-making process looked like at each step, what could have been done differently, and what changes to protocol or training or environment might reduce the likelihood of a similar outcome in the future. The person at the center of the case is not put on trial. They are invited to explain their rationale, to walk through their thinking, to participate in the analysis rather than be consumed by it.

The result, over decades of institutional practice, has been measurable improvement in patient safety, not because individual practitioners were blamed and punished, but because errors were examined as systemic events with systemic causes that systemic solutions could address.

The equestrian world and training horses has no equivalent. And the cost of that absence is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

When a training incident occurs in our sport such when a horse is injured, when a welfare concern surfaces, when a situation at a show or in a barn becomes public, the response follows a depressingly predictable pattern. First comes the gossip, traveling at the speed of a group chat through circuits and barns and online communities. Then comes the vilification, the identification of a person or persons to hold responsible, and the social fracturing around them. Then comes the silence, or the legal positioning, and then… nothing. No analysis. No learning. No structural change. The incident is either forgotten or becomes a permanent stain on someone's reputation, and the community moves on without being any better equipped to prevent the next one.

This is not how you improve a sport. This is how you preserve its worst patterns while performing the appearance of accountability.

What USEF and USHJA could do and what, with genuine leadership, they should do is create a formal, recurring structure for examining adverse outcomes in horse training and competition. Not a disciplinary proceeding. Not a tribunal. An educational conference, modeled explicitly on the M&M format, in which a diverse panel of experienced trainers, veterinarians, equine welfare specialists, and sport administrators examines specific cases with the goal of understanding what happened and why, rather than who to punish.

The trainer at the center of a reviewed case would be given the opportunity to walk through their rationale, what they saw, what they decided, why they made the choices they made in the moment. The panel would ask questions designed to illuminate the decision-making process, not to expose or embarrass. The discussion would be oriented toward systemic factors: What training context produced this approach? What pressures including from clients, from competition schedules, from economic realities shaped the choices that were made? What would a different approach have looked like, and what would it have required? What changes to education, to qualification standards, to competition formats, or to industry norms might make better outcomes more likely across the board?

This matters especially now, because we are a sport that does not have consensus on what welfare and correct training actually look like in practice. We have rules. We have guidelines. We have deeply held individual opinions, often in direct conflict with each other, held by people of genuine experience and good intention. We have almost no shared framework for examining our own practices in a structured, evidence-informed way. The result is that every training controversy becomes a values war rather than a learning opportunity, because we have no agreed-upon process for converting incidents into insight.

The M&M format works in medicine in part because it treats error as inevitable as a feature of complex systems operating under pressure, rather than as a moral failing of individual practitioners. This does not mean that individual accountability disappears. Medicine still has licensing boards and malpractice standards and consequences for genuine negligence or misconduct. But the M&M conference operates in a different register, designed to extract learning from events rather than assign blame for them, and the two functions coexist productively because they serve different purposes.

Our sport needs both of those things too, and right now it has neither working well. The disciplinary side is inconsistent and often more responsive to politics and visibility than to actual severity of harm. The educational side barely exists in any structured form when it comes to training practice. An equestrian M&M conference would not replace accountability. It would create a parallel track that we currently lack entirely — one focused on systemic understanding and collective improvement rather than individual punishment.

The trainers best positioned to participate in and lead such conversations are the ones with the most experience including the professionals who have made mistakes, learned from them, and built their practices around that learning. Their knowledge is currently transmitted informally, incompletely, and often only to the people lucky enough to ride in their barn. A structured conference format would make that knowledge a community resource.
The incidents will keep happening. Horses will continue to be trained in ways that injure them, and the community will continue to respond the way it always has with outrage, gossip, and the satisfying but ultimately unproductive ritual of identifying a villain.

Or we could try something different. We could sit down in a room, look honestly at what happened, and ask what it tells us about ourselves.

Medicine built that room decades ago. It is long past time for us to build ours.

Read more from Piper Klemm here:
https://www.theplaidhorse.com/2026/05/13/what-medicine-figured-out-that-we-havent-the-case-for-equestrian-training-mm-style-conferences/

05/12/2026

05/08/2026

I see hundreds of young horses every year in this country, and the U.S. is breeding exceptional horses. Full stop, Victoria Lustig writes.

As a handler for the Young Horse Show Series, I travel around the country handling yearlings through 5-year-olds at liberty and through a jump chute, and watch many of them compete under saddle. Beyond that, I start, develop, and show dozens of young horses every year for clients out of my own base in Lexington, Kentucky. Young horses make up the majority of my business, and it gives me a unique glimpse into what breeders are producing year after year. The quality of horses that are being bred in this country is quite high.

At every show I attend, I see young horses I would stake my professional reputation on as being true prospects for the highest levels of sport, whether as hunters, jumpers, dressage horses, or eventers. The U.S. horse industry talks about wanting to improve the quality horses in this country, but it’s time to change that conversation. The problem is not the horses we are producing; the quality is here. The problem comes when it’s time to shape that potential into real talent. The U.S. lacks the infrastructure to develop young horses.

Venues

Let’s start with the venues. That includes shows, but we need so much more than that. Not all horses bred in the U.S. are going to be show horses. In fact, most horses will never step foot in a rated show ring, but those horses still need off-property experience. The U.S. needs more venues that allow people to affordably jump a course, ride in a large group, practice an obstacle course, and gain those life experiences that don’t happen at home.

If we focus on horses destined for the show ring, there are even more problems there. For those who have never forked-over an entire paycheck to go to a rated show, you should know showing is expensive. No matter what discipline, no matter how old your horse is, showing can cost an arm-and-a-leg. With the recent increases by USEF to the already significant cost, I think everyone would agree that the current system is unsustainable.

📎 Continue reading this article at https://www.theplaidhorse.com/2026/04/30/from-the-ground-up-developing-the-next-generation-of-u-s-bred-horses/
📸 © Sarah Schaaf Photography

04/29/2026

GREAT description of making a turn work!

04/10/2026

You 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲 to the fence 🎯🐎

You need to be on a 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲. That’s it. The horse will find the fence.

What he can’t do is find the fence cleanly from a crooked approach while you’re 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗸𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 at the same time ⚠️

𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺 ❌ Ride the line, keep your rhythm, and let him do his job ✔️✨

The horses that jump best are ridden by people who do the least 🤝 There’s a connection there.

𝗔𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲? Let me know below 💬👇

04/05/2026

Having a great time with Princess Anne Hunt!

04/05/2026

So it begins.

01/13/2026

🥹❤️

"With so much chatter across the wider industry about the future of the horse business, kids not wanting to work, the shortage of barn rats, and people being priced out of horse shows, I’m starting to wonder if everyone is missing the heart of the issue. What if we just made it about the horse? And learning? What if the future of the horse business isn’t in the huge show barns, but with the little guys, the ones with a handful of horses and riders that work together in all seasons?

My very small community of riders understands my reasoning when I say that we are done riding for the winter, but the parents are eager for their kids to continue to learn about and love the horses and ponies in my barn. There is nothing “boutique” about my philosophy. The riders that are part of my world are here for it. In a tiny sample size of one small barn in rural Massachusetts, I’m pleasantly surprised to be living a sleeper success story when I thought I would be in hibernation this winter.

With no indoor, my afternoon lessons ended when the clocks changed this fall. Even our weekend riding season came to an end as winter hit hard and fast this year. We humans had barely finished our Thanksgiving turkey leftovers when the ground froze and snow came—months sooner than the past several years. My small outdoor ring, which is nestled in the midst of lovely mature trees and stays shady all summer, is now a sheet of ice, buried under inches of snow. As much as I was ready to say “see you next year” to my riders, give my horses round bales and allow everyone, including myself, to hibernate for the winter… the kids and parents had other ideas. The students keep coming, and, importantly, the parents keep paying.

I’ve been completely honest with everyone from day one that I have a small, seasonal program at my home. I’ve grown up with horses, lots and lots of horses. In the past, I headed up a year-round, busy lesson program with riders of all ages, levels, and goals. We had lessons through every season, and kept busy with shows and clinics in all weather to pay the bills. I do not have that capacity or drive at this stage in my life.

With a day job in a local school, I have some wiggle room on the horse-based income. I feel strongly that there is much more for people to learn about horses than just riding, so I’ve pivoted to offering “Stable Management” lessons on Saturday mornings at the same price as my riding lessons. Not one person has questioned the price. I may not be banking millions, but I’m covering some of the expenses for horses I own anyway, during the coldest and snowiest winter in recent memory.

So far this winter, I’ve had a small but dedicated group of girls show up, bundled in their snow pants and layers, ready to learn and help. The first Saturday we met was 11 degrees. Their parents say “thank you” when they drop them off and again when they pick them up. As I chatted with a few of my young, beginner riders about their goals for next year, I talked about how we could work towards horse shows, but what are they looking forward to doing next spring when it warms up again?

“I’d like to pick more feet,” said one girl, opening my eyes to lessons from her perspective. Wake up on Saturday mornings, rush to be on time for the lesson, quickly brush the pony, tack up to get as much riding time in, only to untack and head out to their next busy part of the day. Each weekend, I hear about sleepovers and birthday parties, visiting cousins, or running errands with their parents to be ready for the rest of the week. It all sounds exhausting. These girls want to just spend more time with their equine friends!

The girls are enthusiastic about filling haynets, learning how horses heat themselves from the inside out. We’ve practiced using a weight tape to make sure the horses are in good weight for a New England winter (spoiler alert—not many ribs to be found in my herd!). Instead of the horses waiting inside when they arrive, ready for tack and work, the kids are walking with me to the pasture to catch the horses: trudging through the snow, learning how to approach slowly, pat the horse on his shoulder, put the halter on from the nose up, even if I have to help them reach to put it over the ears, before they lead them back to the barn. The girls take their gloves off only long enough to practice tying a slipknot before brushing the chubby, hairy horses. And yes, we pick more feet, feet that are never dirty as they have been walking in snow for over a month, and likely will be walking through snow for several more months.

These kids and their families don’t know about rising entry fees, rule changes, No Stirrups November, or the difference between WEC and WEF. The parents know their kids are safe, learning about horses and responsibility, getting fresh air and exercise, and that they get back in the car with pink cheeks and updates about how they helped take care of their four-legged friends for another day.

The kids know that riding ba****ck helped them stay warm when cooler weather came in. They know that anything under 14.2 is a pony and anything over is a horse. They know which pony wears the pink halter, which donkey loves his ears rubbed, and they understand why I leased one of the ponies to a different program to keep him in work and lighten my feed bill this snowy winter.

They enjoy spending their mornings helping me with the farm chores. They have learned how to open and close a pocket knife used to cut haystring. They are cleaning stalls, scooping frozen p**p that lands with a thunk in the wheelbarrow, and adding bedding to the stalls. They are eager to spend some future Saturday mornings in my cellar cleaning tack (I promised music and snacks) even though it may be months before they get to actually use the tack again.

But when the weather cooperates, and we are all ready to go back into so-called “real work” the kids will be ready for it, having spent their winter working alongside me to care for the horses they love and are learning from every day."

📎 Save & share this article by Diane Raucher Miller at https://www.theplaidhorse.com/2026/01/12/id-like-to-pick-more-feet-getting-back-to-basics-during-winter-in-massachusetts/

01/12/2026

"As an adult rider a few kids ago, I spent 10 years with a trainer who cared far more about how I rode between the jumps than over them. At the time, I didn’t realize how rare that was. How lucky I was.

This trainer believed deeply in fundamentals that now feel almost old fashioned. Flat work you could feel in your shaky legs the next day. Straightness you could sense with your eyes closed. The correct use of aids instead of shortcuts. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t easy. But it worked. And only now, watching my own daughters come up in this sport, do I realize he was teaching me something the horse world may be losing.

What I remember most is his relentless focus on the basics. And it wasn’t just because I rode green horses. He believed every horse deserved an educated ride. Nothing was about checking boxes on the way to jumping bigger. Because of him, I grew to appreciate the flat work and looked forward to my flat-only lessons.

I also loved watching him ride, mesmerized by the way he made it all look so soft and effortless. Shoulder-in. Haunches-in. Lengthening. Shortening. Of course, it wasn’t effortless at all. It was thoughtful, demanding work. And he let me into that process. He talked while he rode, explaining what he was feeling and why he was asking for something. I could ask questions in real time. It was an education I didn’t fully appreciate until years later when he had transitioned to becoming a successful judge.

Eventually, I reached out to thank him. At the time, I didn’t understand how sacred that education was. And now, as a parent of young riders, that realization worries me. Because if that education mattered so much to me as an adult, it matters even more for children who are still learning who they are in the saddle. I want my girls to learn the kind of riding that lasts. The kind that builds a foundation instead of rushing past it."

Read the rest of Jamie Sindell's blog: https://www.theplaidhorse.com/2026/01/09/why-flatwork-still-matters-in-a-hurry-up-society/

📸Jamie Sindell