07/16/2026
"Gentle hands and a partnership." This article is about horses - but its really about our relationship with all the animals we share our lives with. And it's about how we choose to teach.
When I attended my first training class in the 1970s, everyone had a choke chain and a 6-foot leather leash and the first thing we learned on the very first lesson was how to pop the leash. Pop, pop, pop - to keep them in position, to stop them from going too fast, to get them to hurry up, to break them of sniffing or jumping or looking at something interesting. We popped that metal collar against their neck to get them to come and to stay. I never imagined that the repeated trauma of a child's heels could fuse the ribs of a pony over time. Imagine the affect on a dog's neck - his spine, the nerves, and internal organs of his neck.
I abandoned metal collars and correction-based training in the 90s and never looked back. You can school a horse or you can break it. You can force compliance, or you can create a willing partnership that doesn't rely on applying corrections - or being "alpha". It works with horses, dogs, dangerous zoo animals, and every day through fear-free Cooperative Care in vet clinics and grooming salons. Thank you Haute Paws Grooming for sharing this article!
https://www.facebook.com/share/1BWuZUAuyZ/
I just read an article that stopped me in my tracks, arriving at a moment when the movement towards a deeper understanding of equine training, riding and interactions, and behavior gains rightful momentum across the industry.
Do we use whips here at Cumbrian Heavy Horses? The question deserves an honest answer, not a defensive one. Absolutely we do, but appropriately, only ever as an extension of an aid to encourage listening, to avoid horses learning poor habits, and to avoid horses being kicked in the ribs all the damn time—a practice that should horrify anyone who truly cares about these animals.
A tap of a crop to encourage momentum is the only use of a crop in our eyes, a reinforcement of communication rather than punishment. Anyone riding here will know that from their very first lesson, because it's a principle we refuse to compromise on.
I'm going to share a conversation with you that is 100% true, one that changed how I think about riding instruction forever.
I was taking a beach ride a few years ago and as usual in the pre-ride briefing we discussed riding styles, use of the leg, gentle hands, and the partnership we expect riders to build with our horses. I said a squeeze not a kick please, alongside our full Safety Brief—words I repeat so often they've become second nature.
On the beach one of the lovely ladies was riding next to me, as you do on these relaxed outings, and said something that caught my attention immediately: "I loved your briefing particularly regarding not kicking the horses' sides." Then she explained why it resonated so deeply with her.
"I'm a vet and during our studies we dissected a pony. We did the usual procedures—skin, fascia, muscles, internal organs—then got to the skeleton, expecting a straightforward anatomy lesson. Three of the 'floating' ribs had fused together in a way none of us had seen before. Our lecturer asked us why we thought that was, and we suggested an accident, injury, genetics, potentially breed specific characteristics, but were not sure about our diagnosis."
Her reality shocked us all, the vet told me, her voice still carrying the weight of that moment years later.
"This pony comes from a riding school. He was kicked, by children, so many times in the ribs that they fused together from repeated trauma." The room of veterinary students fell silent, confronting a truth about their industry that nobody had prepared them for.
"We were all so shocked," she said quietly.
As was I when she told me this story. I've never forgotten that conversation, and it haunts every lesson I teach.
It is infinitely better to back a leg aid up with the tap of a crop, reinforcing the leg aid through clear communication, than to teach riders to 'kick on' as if horses are machines that need percussive maintenance.
I hate the phrase "kick on" with a passion that grows stronger every year. I hate riders presenting to us with that mentality already ingrained. I hate the adverts for 'kickalong' ponies as if needing to be booted repeatedly is an acceptable personality trait. I loathe a system that thinks it's OK to persistently teach our children to boot a pony in the ribs so hard you can hear it echo in the poor animal's ribcage like a drum.
I've said this to many parents, children and adults over the years, sometimes diplomatically and sometimes bluntly when the situation demands it.
If you attend a Riding Centre where you hear an instructor say 'kick it, kick it again, harder, he has to know you mean it' please question the methodology immediately. Speak Up! Your silence enables abuse disguised as instruction.
Some centres don't like to encourage children to use a crop, citing safety or appropriateness, but teach them to boot horses in lessons consistently instead. Really??? Why?????? How is teaching a child to repeatedly strike an animal with their heels somehow more acceptable than teaching proper use of an aid?
Surely it is better to teach correct and appropriate use of aids, than perpetuating a cycle of kicking that damages horses physically and emotionally.
In this day and age I advocate strongly for our horses with a mixture of common sense, not anthropomorphising them into something they're not, old fashioned proper horsemanship that respects their nature, and building decent respectful relationships with our horses that honor what they give us.
Horses love 'doing stuff' and they thrive on purposeful work and partnership. Our relationships with horses come virtually from the dawn of our time on earth, stretching back thousands of years, and should continue unabated into the future. Our hearts do well around them, even if our bank accounts do not, and that connection deserves protection through proper training methods.
Anyhow, where I'm going with this is simple: correct and appropriate use of a crop has huge value and should be taught as communication, not punishment. Not kicking, not booting, not treating horses like unfeeling objects that only respond to force.
That pony whose ribs fused together from being kicked so many times by children who were taught that this was acceptable—that pony deserved better. Every horse in every riding school deserves better. Every child deserves to be taught respect and communication instead of violence dressed up as horsemanship.
I hope this has given some folk food for thought, maybe made you uncomfortable if you recognize these practices in your own riding or teaching, and inspired you to demand better for the horses who carry us.
What would you do if you discovered the riding school you trusted was teaching children to kick hard enough to cause permanent skeletal damage? When will we collectively say enough is enough?
