09/26/2026
BEHIND THE CURTAIN: MORE THAN A coach, part 16
People often see me as the riding instructor at WildeWood Farm.
But behind the curtain, I wear another very important hat:
Horse trainer.
Most of the horses that make up our lesson string did not arrive as finished lesson horses.
In fact, most came to us with very little training. Some had even been deemed “untrainable” by other trainers.
We have been blessed with the responsibility of some truly wonderful schoolmasters over the years, but they are the exception, not the rule.
Most of our horses have been projects.
We are not a formal rescue, but we take in many horses that need another chance.
Last year alone, I was offered 58 horses.
I took 18.
I wish I could have taken more.
But the hard reality is that I simply could not afford to.
The animals at WildeWood must be able to contribute to the farm and, in time, help support their own way. We are a working farm, not a rescue organization with a large fundraising budget.
That doesn’t make saying no any easier.
What makes WildeWood different is that I’ve been a horse trainer my entire life. For more than 20 years, I specifically trained young horses, started horses, and worked through hundreds of remedial cases for other people, including some of the most dangerous horses around.
I would finish teaching my paying customers for the day and then go work the difficult horses.
Those were the horses that needed someone willing to take the time, figure them out, and give them a chance.
After I had my children, however, I made a very deliberate decision to stop training horses for other people.
Being a mother of small children changed the equation.
The risk was simply too great.
I could no longer justify getting on someone else’s difficult or dangerous horse when I had little children at home who needed their mom.
So I stopped training outside horses.
That doesn’t mean I stopped being a horse trainer.
It simply meant that my training work became focused on the horses here.
And today, that experience is one of the things that makes our lesson program possible.
There aren’t many horses I cannot help if I’m given enough time.
So when I look at a horse, I don’t just see a potential lesson horse.
I see a training project.
I watch how he moves, how he thinks, how he reacts, how he learns, and what might be possible with the right handling and enough time.
Sometimes that means taking a horse that someone else has given up on and slowly teaching him that people can be trusted.
Sometimes it means developing a young horse from the ground up.
Sometimes it means taking a horse with baggage and giving him a job he can understand and enjoy.
And sometimes, despite everything we can do, a horse simply isn’t the right fit for our program, and I help them find a home that does.
That perspective allows us to give some horses an opportunity they might not have somewhere else.
But my job doesn’t stop when the horse becomes a lesson horse.
I don’t just teach the student.
I watch the horse.
I watch the partnership developing between them. I see where the horse is struggling, where the rider is struggling, and what needs to change to make the relationship better for both.
Because teaching someone to ride isn’t simply about teaching them where to put their hands and feet.
It’s about teaching them how to listen to another living creature.
And sometimes the horse needs just as much teaching as the student does.
Written for you by Hannah Campbell Zapletal
