A love letter to the emotionally gifted gelding who thinks flies are a personal attack.
Some horses spook at flapping tarps or deer in the woods.
Mine? Mine spooks at energy.
The mounting block was in a different spot? That’s a no.
A leaf twitched wrong? He needs a minute.
I changed my tone when I asked for the canter? He’s not mad, he’s just… disappointed.
I used to call it dramatic. Now I call it sensitive leadership — and I am merely his humble assistant.
The Offenses He Will Not Tolerate
I’ve committed many crimes in Oberon’s eyes. Among them:
Switching his halter without first consulting legal counsel
Offering the “wrong” kind of apple (Granny Smith, a known disgrace)
Bathing his royal face with actual water — the betrayal
Asking him to trot after a day off, as if he’s not still processing Tuesday
He doesn’t rear. He doesn’t bolt.
He just… freezes, sighs, and makes me reflect on my choices.
He’s Not Lazy. He’s Contemplative.
When he stops mid-ride and stares into the distance, I used to worry.
Now I understand: he’s probably writing a monologue.
Or mentally drafting a Yelp review of my riding.
You can’t rush a thinker.
The Recovery Phase (aka Silent Treatment on Hooves)
After I violate one of his sacred standards — say, touching him with cold water or asking him to step in a puddle — we enter the silent treatment era.
He’ll go through the motions, but with the air of a man who’s seen too much.
And then… just when I think I’ve lost him, he nuzzles me. Soft. Forgiving. Like “I’m not mad anymore. But don’t do it again.”
The Truth Is…
I wouldn’t trade it.
There’s something deeply personal about riding a horse like this — one who isn’t afraid to express his preferences, who demands softness, and who reflects back everything you bring to the saddle.
He teaches me that sensitivity isn’t a flaw. It’s information. It’s presence. It’s honesty, in its purest form.
So no, he’s not spooky.
He’s sensitive.
And honestly? I’m lucky he puts up with me at all.
Want more musings from the saddle? Follow along at Riding Against The Grain for more horse-first, real-life equestrian stories. We ride differently here — and proudly so.


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