A Year Later

I'll be the first to admit, Dixie and I had the hardest year yet. Her recovery went anything but smooth. We struggled to find the right barn fit where Dixie had enough space, enough workouts, and the right team to be manageable. Explosive behaviors became the norm with her, and I wasn't used to her newfound entertainment by convincing the new people around her she was a spooky hot mare. Dixie is neither of those things, but she sure does use her wit improperly when she's bored. That's the thing about smart animals - it's not just about understanding their body and athleticism. The biggest mountain you have to climb is understanding how they think and then working with that mindset instead of against it.

What I love about Dixie is how opinionated she is. If she isn't happy, she's going to show it. It took us changing barns multiple times before we finally landed in a place where we both had the space and the grace to exhale for the first time. Some of the most beautiful sky views of the American West, Dixie has settled into her home in my favorite little barn we call "the misfits".

Last December, Dixie was jumping full courses with a pro rider. A man who has earned his place in the jumper arena as a seasoned rider and produced numerous horses that won world championships. It was good to see her adjustability and stamina start to come back, but what I didn't love and didn't recognize until it was too late was how she presented like a stick of dynamite someone had just lit on fire.

My philosophy as a horsewoman and a responsible rider is always to be soft and to never push too hard. I've watched many promising horses be broken by professional riders who got too greedy and did too much. Some of them never recovered. Unfortunately, for me, after sinking all my time, trust, and money into a program that ultimately turned my horse into an animal I not only didn't recognize but that I was afraid to touch, I knew I had to make a change.

Dixie was mad and mean. There I was with a 1,200 pound beautiful American Thoroughbred that was the complete opposite of the horse that I know she is deep down. I started showing up at the barn less because most cold nights when no one else was around, I would just sit and cry in front of her stall, not knowing if I could keep going. The sport I once loved felt like a burden, and continuing to pour money into a horse I couldn't even be around felt too heavy to handle. At one point I had a conversation about what it would look like to sell her, though it never went any further. Not only had I given this program my all for six entire months, but the trainer refused to put her on the market unless I sunk another five figures into her show career and even then "I don't have a crystal ball" is how he put it.

At that point, I knew I had to step in and take charge as the CEO of Unbridled Dixie's career. She needed a new program and an old familiar face.

That's when the stars aligned.

The same woman that saved Dixie's life that fateful night, hauling ass down the highway to get my mare to one of the best equine hospitals in the world where she would have successful colic surgery, came back into Dixie's world. The first time she came out to Dixie's new barn, I warned her that what she had become wasn't just concerning, it was scary. Sure enough, Dixie showed off her finest wild mare antics both under saddle and on the lunge line. At the end of the training session, I can remember praying in my head that she wasn't going to tell us it was hopeless.

"Well, that's not what I was expecting," she said with a grin. I tried to hold back my fears from manifesting in the moment and waited for her to continue. "We've got a lot of work to do but I think we can get there." I smiled, held back my tears of joy, and trusted that Dixie was back in not just good hands, but the best hands.

That's when everything changed.

I finally recognize the soft, giant lovable mare that knows how pretty she is in the crossties after her mane has been brushed. Miss Dixie has gotten the sparkle back in her eye and the swagger back in her step. Slowly, steadily, and miraculously, Janet has been rebuilding the foundations of Dixie's training. There are good days and bad days, but these days Dixie is happy, healthy, and loving her life.

She is flourishing.

Dixie and I have big goals for 2026 and we look forward to seeing you in the show ring. Check back here soon for an update on our saddle search and a deep dive into what to look for in your next saddle.