South Wind Equestrian Center

12/27/2025

What a nice article! The oldies are my favorites. So much heart! They need a bit of support but have so much worth.

"When I first got out of veterinary school and started looking at horses prior to purchase (usually referred to as a “vet check” or a prepurchase exam), the horses usually fit into one of three categories.

The first category was the horse with no problems noted at the time of the exam. That decision was usually pretty straight-forward. I’d look at the horse and if I didn’t find or see any problems, that was usually that.

The second category was for a horse that wasn’t sound at the time of examination. I wasn’t always sure WHY the horse was limping – determining why a horse was limping is a lameness exam, not a presale exam. If the horse was limping noticeably, usually that was enough, and particularly if I could find the reason why (say, an arthritic joint).

The third category was what used to be referred to as, “Serviceably sound.” That is, the horse may not have been perfect, he might have been a little stiff going in one direct, but he had been doing his job for a long time and, in my opinion, he could probably keep doing the job that was asked of him for a good while longer. But today, in this day of X-raying every bone, pushing, prodding, flexing, and making SWAGs (SWAG = Scientific Wild-A** Guess) about the future, I’m often left wondering, “What happened to that horse that was serviceably sound?”

About two years ago I was asked to give a fourth opinion on a 20-year-old warmblood horse. The horse had been through the entire diagnostic gamut: MRI’s and bone scans, ultrasound and X-rays of most every bone in the horse’s body. She’d had expert opinions from hospitals and radiologists. She wasn’t moving 100% sound and all of the diagnostic tests and all of the expert opinions confirmed that the horse should never be ridden again (I know because I saw the reports).

As you might imagine, I wasn’t immediately sure what I could bring to the table, what with all of the diagnosing and opining that had already gone on. Nevertheless, I ran ma hands over her legs, felt the slight swelling in her stifle joints, and I noticed the stiffness when I flexed her legs. This sweet, patient mare never objected to anything that I did and never fought back against anything I asked. Next, I asked to watch her move. She certainly didn’t have a full, easy moving gait but she moved willingly: happily. So I asked, “What do you want to do with her?”

The owner, who obviously cared about her horse enough to float the budget of a few small countries, said, “I’d like her to be able to give lessons to kids.”

“Why don’t you give it a try?” I said.

The owner, furrowing her brow, responded, “But what about all of the reports?”

I said, “Don’t let her read them.”

Today, three years later, the old girl regularly and happily gives lessons to kids in a riding program. She doesn’t go very fast or for very long, and it helps her to get a pain-relieving drug from time to time. But she’s got a job, she’s the apple of the eyes of any number of kids, and she’s, well, happy (at least as far as anyone can tell).

ANOTHER ASIDE: A saw a 18-year-old gelding who had been through MRI and blocking and X-rays and medication and shoeing changes as a result of a hoof problem that just wouldn’t let the horse move without a slight forelimb limp, especially when the horse had to go in a circle. I travelled a good bit out of my practice area, looked at all of the data, and asked the owner, “What do you do with him?”

The owner said, “I take him out for walks on the trail two or three times a week.”

And I said, “Why not just give him a little bit of pain reliever when you go out on the trail and let him walk around this nice arena the rest of the time?”

“But won’t the pain reliever destroy his stomach?” she asked.

“No.”

That was four years ago. I saw the owners at a lecture I gave a year or so later and everyone was happy. As far as I know, his stomach didn’t explode, and things are still going well. It’s a good situation for everyone.

The reason that I bring this up is that to me, it seems that the business side of the horse world is suggesting that the only thing a horse owner should be satisfied with is perfect or “optimum” or “ideal” or some other bit of linguistic innuendo that suggests that a horse just might have some hidden problem lurking beneath his skin that’s going to result in imminent death or disaster. It seems to me that the business world is trying to sell horse owners on the idea that there are only two choices for a horse: perfect or disaster.

I think that the relentless search for perfection in horse health is mostly terrible. I think that constantly worrying about horses, spending hours on the internet looking for information about what might go wrong helps deprive a lot of horse owners of the joy of horse ownership. If your horse looks at his side, it usually doesn’t mean that he’s twisted his intestines. If your horse is on a good diet, it’s extremely unlikely that he’s on the edge of some nutritional cliff, about to fall over but for the good fortune that you’ve had in finding the latest supplement. Worrying about your horse too much can lead owners to seek out unnecessary testing, to waste money on veterinary (and other) visits, and to look for comfort from endless interventions and products.

Of course, it’s good to be aware of your horse’s health. But there’s a difference between being worried about your horse when he’s sick or limping and being constantly worried about him becoming sick or lame. Excessive worrying about a normal horse is a real problem: mostly, for the horse owner.

YET ANOTHER ASIDE: A 70-year-old client came to me with her 19-year-old gelding. She’d been given the horse from a riding school and she was concerned because she had been told that the horse was limping. I watched him trot – there was a slight limp.

“What do you do with him?” I asked.

“I like to walk on the trails with him on the weekend with my friends. Or maybe every other weekend.”

I could feel a slight enlargement at his pastern – I was pretty sure he had a bit of osteoarthritis (also known as “ringbone”).

Here’s a partial list of things that I did not recommend: X-rays, bone scan, MRI, joint injections, joint supplements, special shoes, liniment, PRP, or stem cells.

Instead, I pointed to her husband, 75, and said, “How’s Fred? Is he getting around the same way he did when you were married 50 years ago?”

Laughing, she said, “No.”

“Want to get rid of him?”

“Only sometimes” she smiled.

I told her to keeping going on nice long walks, and perhaps give him (the horse – I don’t prescribe medicine for people) a pain reliever if he’s limping a bit. Things have been going great for several months – in fact, I saw them both just the other day. It’s a perfect situation for both of them. Nobody is perfectly sound, including Fred. But everybody is serviceable. And happy.

So what’s “serviceable?” I think that it means that the horse can do the job that’s being asked of him without suffering. Horses will generally go out and try to do their best – that’s one of the things we love about them. It’s our job to take care of them, but it’s not our job to make everything perfect: that’s an impossibility. A horse can be less than perfect and still be wonderful.

Here’s Mark Twain’s idea of a good horse. “I preferred a safe horse to a fast one—I would like to have an excessively gentle horse—a horse with no spirit whatever—a lame one, if he had such a thing.” (Roughing It, Chapter 64).

I don’t usually see things as black and white. I tend to think that the perfect is the enemy of the good. I don’t think that a horse is either good or bad. There are lots of good horses out there that might have a little flaw or imperfection but who will also be the best horse anyone could ever ask for. Don’t overlook one of them simply because he’s not somebody else’s idea of perfection. He might not be perfect, but he can still be serviceable… and even still be great!"

📎 Save & share this article by David Ramey, DVM at https://www.theplaidhorse.com/2021/08/09/what-ever-happened-to-serviceably-sound/
📸 © The Plaid Horse

12/25/2025

12/20/2025

Good advice.

Some may not agree with me, but one of the most common misconceptions with horses is that you HAVE to walk a colicking horse, and that’s simply not true.

Movement helps stimulate the gut, but many believe the purpose of walking a colicking horse is to “fix” the colic. The main purpose is to keep them busy enough not to roll. That’s it. Walking is a management tool, not a cure, and it is not mandatory in every situation.

I’ve met plenty of horses who would rather lie down quietly and will absolutely fight you if you try to make them stand and walk. In those cases, forcing them up can do more harm than good. Sometimes letting them stay down calmly and quietly is the safest option.

Every time a horse violently throws themselves down, they risk injuring themselves, and you. I’ve had horses that refused to walk but would lie still, and I’ve had others that couldn’t decide what they wanted and were dangerous either way. I’ve even had to sit with horses just to help keep them from thrashing.

The key isn’t “walk at all costs.” The key is preventing violent rolling, minimizing stress, and keeping everyone safe until the vet arrives.

Know the horse in front of you, stay calm and use common sense. Colic isn’t one-size-fits-all.

12/18/2025

A true horse person understand the stages....forgives self, asks for the horses to forgive as well...stays curious, listens and never stops learning.

My horsemanship has been through several different iterations... I have died and been reborn so many times in my still relatively young life ~ The evolution of my horsemanship reflects these transitions.

𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰.

‘Natural Horsemanship’ based style of training and c**t starting with, always, a pull towards bridleless and liberty work. During the peak of this era, the most significant marker of my work was ‘liberty starts,’ in which I started horses riding without tack, transitioning to a saddle and bridle once they were already going walk, trot, canter, stopping, backing, steering, etc. I found myself pushing the limits of what was possible with bridleless riding — from riding bridleless through the strip of Las Vegas, parades at Cheyenne Frontier Days, and leading a wild mustang herd into the spotlit coliseum arena at the Fort Worth Stock Show & Rodeo with no tack, to a focus on developing high level manaveurs without a bridle. Many of you know this era from my travels teaching and performing during this time, as well as my bridleless freestyles at the Extreme Mustang Makeovers I competed in.

(For a taster of ACT I, search "Cinderella Mustang" here or on Youtube)

𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰𝑰.

In 2018, I dove deep into the world of positive reinforcement. My openness to using food rewards, which I had once considered strictly off limits and a failure of training, was brought forth by a 16 year old mustang rescue bolting case and a young, aggressive bottle fed zebra.

I studied with marine mammal trainers in order to go to the source of clicker training (while I also acknowledge the harmful history of these spaces and the ways it continues this legacy in many present day iterations), and studied the work of many highly successful positive reinforcement trainers across different species.

At a time when my face was being printed on magazine covers and people were asking me to teach all over the world — I felt as if I no longer knew how to even halter a horse anymore. I navigated the thrill of learning these new methods and excitement to share my journey with others while also experiencing the shame of feeling as if my entire work with horses prior to discovering this new method, had been harmful. I TIP trained a group of 6 mustangs utilising positive reinforcement methods. I started a mustang riding at liberty utilising clicker training, shaping behavior through targeting and approaches that weren't based on pressure. I built a school around everything I’d learned so far in my horsemanship journey.

I burned out.

(Search "Mustang Maddy The Mystic Experiment" on Youtube for a glimpse of ACT II)

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑛.

I held on to my work for as long as I could and white-knuckled my way through until my heart shattered in grief and I had to face that the fiery passion I had always taken for granted would always be there, a constant in my life, dwindled down to a flicker, until going out all together— and with it, my desire to live. I had no idea who I was without horses, without my work. Made possible from devoted students and the online school I’d created with the incredible help and efforts of two other women, I was able to take time to fall apart and be shattered by all the heartbreaks of my life I had ignored up until then. I don’t know that many people have the brutal luxury of being able to break into a million pieces, and perhaps fewer still who live to tell the tale. Needless to say, I didn’t make it out alive. And, yet, somehow — I arose from the ashes of myself.

Tears thawed what had been frozen in the heart, and a tiny red flower, a small shoot, sprung forth from the cracks of it. Miraculously, I felt the small tinder bundle of my passion with horses catch a small flickering flame once again. But, I knew this flame was fragile, needing careful tending, needing to be held close to my heart and far from public view. I knew if I wasn’t careful, I would risk it going out forever. So, I kept my horsemanship private. I rarely taught, I trained on a small scale as I was able, and I never pulled out the video camera, save a few moments I knew needed documenting. Having emerged from an era in which I was never training without eyes watching me or a camera rolling, it felt like something sacred was returning to me— the safe, intimate space I had shared with horses when I was younger, a space where it was just me and the horse in front of me, time ceased to exist, and the rest of the world melted away.

I took this time to just be with horses in ways that felt true and beautiful to me and to us, finally less concerned about what seemed to be The One Right Way. After shedding the falsities of who I thought I was and the masks I’d learned to wear fell away (or rather, were ripped away), I began to find my footing in a form of relating with horses that felt more truly authentic to me than anything I had ever known— truly liberating.

𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰𝑰𝑰.

Over the past year, I have slowly been making my way back. I am excited again to teach and learn with others, to share my work and make videos again (I also now realise this yearning to document, share, and make art out of my relationship with horses has been with me from a very young age).

I feel as if I’ve finally broken free of the boxes, first in my personal life and now in my horsemanship (while also acknowledging this is a lifelong practice in world which wants you back in the cage!).

I utilise both pressure & release and clicker training approaches to horsemanship, depending the horse, the person I am working with, and the situation. There is greater emphasis on emotional attunement with our horses and the fluid and ongoing dialogue between us than on the personal choice of motivator and reinforcer. I believe the horses tell us, if we listen.

There is a slowness and softness that was not there before, a focus on depth over speed. A focus on local versus global.

There is now a widening web from which my horsemanship is situated, one that ripples out from our relations with horses to all our more-than-human-kin, a widening from a focus on personal psychology as it relates to the horse-human connection to one that is collective, cultural, generational, ancestral.

There is at once, something very old and something very new — a process of letting our past inform our way forward.

There is a shift away from cognitive supremacy to other sites of knowing: land, heart, hands, lineage.

There is less shying away from what is hard, messy, complex, and from all that is worth grieving... and with it, there is more awe and wonder. There is a focus on Beauty — and how making Beauty can feed the world and renew her again and again.

There is less urgency, more depth-- Instead of trying to flatten the waves, I am looking to the Moon and undercurrents whom influence the crashing waves we now find ourselves navigating during these turbulent times.

Thank you for being here and for your continued support, and I look forward to sharing Act III with you all

12/17/2025

This is what many people don’t want to deal with: aging, the slowing down and the extra steps it takes each day to keep an older horse going. It’s sitting in the barn long after the rest of the chores are done, waiting patiently while they work through their warm mash, knowing their teeth aren’t what they used to be and their body needs more time than it once did. It’s listening to the steady sound of them chewing while the world slows down around you. It’s realizing that what used to take minutes now takes patience.

It’s watching joints stiffen on cold mornings and standing there longer than planned, giving them time to loosen up before asking anything of them. It’s layering blankets just right, checking weather reports more closely than ever, adjusting and readjusting because comfort matters now more than convenience. It’s scooping supplements, soaking feed, scheduling farrier visits more carefully, and noticing every small change, because the small things matter most.

It isn’t always easy. Some days it’s exhausting. Some days it hurts to see the years written so clearly on a body that once felt unstoppable. But they gave you everything they had. They gave you their best year, their strength, their soundness, their heart. They carried you when they didn’t have to. They trusted you without hesitation. They showed up on days when you didn’t deserve it and forgave you when you made mistakes. They taught you patience, courage, and humility long before they ever needed it in return. They gave without question or complaint.

So when their steps slow and their needs grow, this is where we show who we really are. This is where love looks like time, like consistency, like choosing them even when it’s inconvenient. Love looks like staying late, spending more, doing more, and asking for nothing back.

The least we can do is give them patience, kindness, and dignity in their twilight years. To make sure they are warm, comfortable and safe. To let them age without fear or neglect, surrounded by the same care they gave us so freely.

Because they carried us.
Because they earned It
Because they deserve nothing less.

12/16/2025

It’s so weird that we have to scream from the top of the buildings around this country to wear helmets! I don’t care if you have a western saddle or an English saddle, you’re still need to protect your head! I am blown away by all of the pictures I see of people riding their horses down the street without a helmet on, even riding with beginners! It doesn’t matter whether you are an advanced rider or a beginner, horses can sometimes trip and fall, and you are dead. Twice my life has been saved by a helmet. I am not just saying this and I don’t sell helmets. I am saying this because I still am able to think and walk and I was able to raise my children and continue to do the sport that I love because I wore helmet !!!Rant over …

12/10/2025

Hilarious! 😂

12/08/2025

Great drawing. Teaching our horses self-carriage is so important!

12/03/2025

Separating foals from their mom’s too soon, repetitive moves/sales, changing trainers and owners, owner trauma, accidents, injuries and abuse will impact your horse. Just as humans create management strategies to survive when they have had scary or sad events, horse will do the same thing to survive.

And just like humans, horses can heal with consistency. Every horse is different. Some easily adjust to change, others really struggle. And often in this struggle they ask for help and it is our responsibility to do so, and not punish the horse for natural responses that are often seen as bad behavior.

Just like people, horses establish how they feel in relationships based on their early life experiences. With horses, most of their social life is beyond their control or choice, which can make secure attachments in the future harder to develop. When we consider how horses feel about their human relationships and other equine experiences, we have to think about their early life experiences. Yes, attachment styles can change over time with healing or trauma (going the wrong way), but knowing where they stand can help us choose how to handle them.

We all hope for secure attachments, but secure attachments require feeling safe, seen, heard, and comfortable with their peer groups. Feeling that their peers will be safe and keep them safe is vital to horse coexistence. Excess fighting within the herd or stress over resources can quickly damage relationships and the way horses develop relationships in the future. A horse who feels secure in their relationships is rare in modern horse-keeping, we can tend to see it with horses who feel safe in their herds but not with their humans or vice versa. Horses can have different attachment styles with different herds or with humans.

Different ways of handling horses can create different attachment styles with humans as well. Consider their early human experiences. Are humans safe, consistent and reliable? Consistency and reliability create secure connections. Inconsistency or unpredictability can create unhealthy attachment styles, not knowing what to expect each day. It's common for humans to seem unpredictable to horses. Some days we're loving on them, gentle and cuddly, the next moment we're punishing them for something they may feel is normal, healthy horse behavior. Without an understanding of how things work it can feel unpredictable and unsafe, creating disorganized, unpredictable relationships.

We also know that sudden separation or abandonment, or even emotional detachment can create unhealthy, anxious attachments. This is all too common in the horse world, with sudden, unexpected major changes to the horse's social settings. When we suddenly throw them on a trailer and expect them to fall in with a whole new herd, or change which humans work with them each day, it becomes unpredictable and unsafe. A horse with secure attachments may be able to handle these regular changes more easily, but an insecure, anxious, or avoidant horse may really struggle with these.

What type of attachment style does your horse have with YOU? With their herd? When things go wrong, do they sink into a different style? Maybe when things feel safe and comfortable they look secure, but when there is a change they may reveal some underlying feelings we didn't see before.

11/30/2025

A gentle reminder for those with horses on grass pasture.