05/23/2026
I read this and it's so profound as someone with lots of horses and someone constantly pursuing liberty horsemanship.
I have horses that are easy to catch, and horses that are not so easy. I can do amazing liberty with Serenity, my personal horse, but if I haven't worked with her in a while or I get too caught up on my own goals, she can be hard to catch again. She has a lot of not so good experiences in her life and it took years for me to catch her consistently. I gave her the winter off and I've wanted to work her so badly, but she has gone back to being a bit "shy". She stops and looks at me but turns away when I get my halter and rope ready.
I would lie if I said my feelings aren't hurt when I have a hard time catching my own horse. I know the quick fix is a treat, but I rarely do bribes.
My other horse, Serendipity, practically stalks me to be caught, and Serenity looks at me and can't decide if she's good to be caught or wants to book it.
I see the same lesson horse get caught easily by someone, and run away from someone on the same day. I always marvel at how a horse can respond so differently to 2 different people on the same day.
It has less to do with whether the horse likes you or not. The horse feels your energy. Are you in a rush? Are you present? Can you read them? Can you notice what kind of day they're having? Are you carrying your problems and burdens into the pasture? Can you accept that they might be hesitant for whatever reason?
You can't fool a horse. Years ago, I had a horse so sensitive (more than Serenity) that even if I swore I was leaving my problems at the door, she could sense when I was off. She forced me to deal with stuff I didn't want to. I literally had to deal with my own sh*t to get her trained. She reflected what I was suppressing. I have never met a horse that perceptive in my life (Leida, half sister to Serenity).
A horse that's hard to catch can sometimes just be asking:
"What will you do with my honesty?"
They often want you to slow down, notice them, feel them, feel yourself. They want you to grow for them, face your fears, believe in yourself, be present...
I also realized with teaching horses to lie down (especially the slow method) that you almost have to let go of expectations for it to happen. You have to be willing for it not to happen..like the law of attraction 🧲 in the universe - if you fixate too intently, you lose the flow state where the magic happens.
This is why I swear the horse was made for us humans, to be better than we would otherwise be. Not everyone learns what the horse is really trying to teach us. I'm just figuring it out.
A horse who walks away from you is not always rejecting you.
Sometimes they are checking whether you will follow the old pattern:
pressure,
insistence,
capture.
Many horses have learned that humans often respond to distance by closing it.
By advancing.
Correcting.
Convincing.
Escalating.
So when a horse leaves, it is not always defiance.
Sometimes it is a question.
“What will you do with my honesty?”
Will you allow the conversation to stay honest?
Or will the moment their answer becomes inconvenient, the pressure begin?
I think this is where so many relationships quietly change.
Because there is a moment horses seem to recognize something rare:
the moment they realize they are still safe even after expressing discomfort, uncertainty, or preference.
The moment they realize:
“Oh…
you heard me.”
Not just physically.
Emotionally.
You heard the hesitation in their body.
The uncertainty in their eyes.
The tension in their nervous system.
The quiet request underneath the movement away.
And instead of overpowering the communication, you listened.
I think humans often underestimate how profound that can feel to another being.
Especially to one who has spent much of their life learning that resistance leads to more pressure.
That is why some of the deepest trust I have ever witnessed did not begin with a horse moving toward someone.
It began with a horse discovering they were allowed to move away without punishment.
Because sometimes what looks like “disconnection” is actually the first fragile attempt at honesty.
And sometimes the greatest transformation is not teaching the horse to stay.
Sometimes it is teaching them they no longer need to flee to feel heard.
Not obedience.
Not submission.
Relief.