Doing them Justice

On May 23rd, 2025, Krypton's Justice (aka Justice) turned thirty years old. I started riding him as a five-year-old, 25 years ago. I was filming his sale video, and Tanya, his owner at the time (the same Tanya who was my coach and mentor), asked me to get on him for part of it. I loved him and told her I didn’t know why she was selling him; he was so cool! She offered to lease him to me, and after three years, I bought him from her. He was the third horse I ever owned. Twenty-five years has since passed. A quarter century. It’s incredible when we get to have so many years with these wonderful beings.

Photo Credit: Paige Meissner

Doing the right thing for the horse isn’t always easy. Sometimes it means giving up your goals, changing your plans, and being open to something completely different than you originally set out to do. Other times it means finding them a new home that is better suited to their needs. I frequently use animal communicators to talk to my horses about what they want in life and ask them how they feel about things, as well as follow my own intuition and observations about them.

Eleven years ago, I made the difficult decision to sell Justice if I could find the right home. He was nineteen years old and looking for a slower-paced career by that time. I had just purchased Lacey based on loving her full sister Lamora’s temperament (Lamora was owned by one of my students at the time). I knew it wouldn’t be fair to either of them to keep him as I wouldn’t have the time to put into two horses, even though Justice was ready for a more relaxed job. It was difficult not just because I loved him, but also because I felt he kept me connected to Tanya, who passed away in 2006. I didn’t make the decision lightly. I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted him to have in a new owner and lifestyle. I posted his ad, and heavily pre-screened everyone who inquired about him. The only person who met the “requirements” on the extensive list I had made came to see him. She loved him, and he is still with her eleven years later, living his best life.

Justice was a big part of my life for many years, and we went through a lot together. I evented him, rode in clinics, and took him to all sorts of schooling shows where we did everything from jumping to dressage. We competed in the EAADA Iron Horse competition. We did bridle-less jumping and flatwork. We even went cattle penning once. He sustained a suspensory injury playing in his field when he was 8 years old, and we spent a year rehabbing. It started with the winter on pasture rest and ended with stall rest and shock wave therapy. He came back physically 100%, but the stall rest took a toll on his brain. He had always been a fairly spooky horse, but after the stall rest, he was far worse. After a near death experience at our first cross-country clinic five years after his recovery when he reared and almost went over backwards, I switched to just doing dressage with him, aside from some low jumps at home which he enjoyed.

I had loved the idea of dressage for many years; the ultimate feeling of connection and harmony with one’s horse. I am grateful to Justice for being the nudge to push me completely into the dressage world. As much as we may have our own goals and dreams we want to pursue with our horses, ultimately, we need to put their needs and interests first. I got the opportunity to do this twice with Justice; first by making the switch from eventing to dressage, and second by finding him his heart human when I knew he would be better off with someone else.

Last year I got to ride Justice again. He’s pretty much retired, but still does the odd light ride. Mostly he just does groundwork and plays with his person. He adores her, and they have a deeper bond than he and I ever did. I am so grateful I still get to visit him, and that his owner sends me updates on how he’s doing. I feel incredibly lucky that he’s still in my life.

Lacey has also taught me to follow my intuition and do what’s best for her. I have made many mistakes along the way, as we all tend to do. We don’t always know what the best thing is until hindsight shows us. All we can do then is adjust for the next time. Showing her over the last few years at FEI, I had to learn to trust not only her, but also my training (aka myself). I learned through trial and error that our best performances in the show ring were always when we did the least in the warmup. There is always the temptation to “school” in the warmup: to run through all of the movements in the test and try to make them as good as possible before going in the ring. Anytime I did this, we would tank in the ring. She would run out of steam and stop trying. I began to realize that our best performances were always in the warmup ring, the first time I asked.

Last year, I finally learned my lesson. I listened to my horse. I did the bare minimum before going into the show ring – all I did was warm her up, literally. I didn’t school anything. I just did a long walk, some stretchy trot, a bit of canter with a short half pass each way, and a few tempi changes to be sure she was on my aid. My trot and canter warmup totaled four minutes. I had to trust that all of our training sessions at home would come through in the ring. And guess what – they did! She gave me whatever I asked for.

The other difference last year was, I went into the warmup with intention of letting her tell me how she felt each day. I was only going to ride my test if I felt like she wanted to be there. Lacey had so much “try” at that show, I was in tears by the end of my tests. She wanted to perform, and she did. I finally did her justice by listening to her and letting her tell me what she wanted and needed.

Horses are constantly giving us these gifts and opportunities to learn. We can give back to them by listening to what they tell us about their wants and needs. Sometimes the path we set out on doesn’t turn out to be the most harmonious one for that horse, and we need to either change our course or find a better situation for them. As hard as it can be to let go of our goals and dreams, or harder yet, to let go of a horse, sometimes to do them justice we need to change our course.