April 24, 2026: Progress Has Many Forms
It has been a rainy week here in Dallas-Fort Worth, the kind of week where mud multiplies, schedules shift, and windshield wipers feel like full-time employees.
I had a lesson on Monday, and something finally clicked.
Sarah has been trying to teach me the same concept for the last few lessons, using both my hands and feet to communicate more clearly and effectively. This week, I finally started to feel it. Not perfectly, not consistently, but enough to understand what she has been asking for.
That is the funny thing about learning to ride.
You can think about it all week. You can replay the lesson in your head, visualize where your hands should be, where your legs should be, and how it all ought to work. Then you get on the horse, and suddenly your body has other ideas.
What makes sense in theory does not always translate in the saddle.
Still, progress is progress.
This week’s focus has been rein management, softness, and learning how small adjustments can create much clearer communication. The more time I spend with Sarah, the more I understand that riding is often less about doing more and more about doing things better, with feel, timing, and intention.
Bee, meanwhile, continues to be an anxious horse.
Sarah told me from the beginning she did not have a timeline for Bee, and true to Bee fashion, she is doing this on her own terms and on her own schedule. That does not mean she is not improving. She is. But slowly, steadily, and only when she is ready to trust it.
Some horses need miles. Some need maintenance. Some need groceries. Some need confidence.
Bee needs consistency.
She needs repetition, boundaries, calm leadership, and enough good experiences stacked together that anxiety stops being her default setting. Everything I have read says it can be done. Sarah believes it can be done. I believe it can be done.
But doing it right has a cost.
Right now, I am paying Sarah for training while still paying full board at the barn. In May, that number increases because Bee will finally have a stall in the barn. When you add it all together, I am looking at roughly $2,000 a month.
That is before fuel for the nearly hour drive each way to Krum three times a week, plus the time itself. That doesn’t include farrier cost every five weeks or her supplements.
And that is where the real question lives.
Do I keep investing in Bee, a horse I love deeply but cannot ride right now, believing we are building something worth waiting for?
Or do I put those resources toward a horse that could teach me to ride now, build confidence faster, and meet me where I currently am?
That is not a light decision.
But progress is not always measured in dollars, timelines, or dramatic breakthroughs. Sometimes it shows up in quieter ways, through the little physical and behavioral clues horses give us when things are moving in the right direction.
If you remember our Bonus Buzz from May 23, 2025 about dapples, Bee has them again, and a full month earlier than last year.
For non-horse folks, dapples are those circular, lighter patterns in a horse’s coat that often appear when they are in excellent condition, well-fed, well-managed, and carrying a healthy shine. Genetics play a role too, but horse people still love to see them because they often signal a horse feeling good on the inside and looking good on the outside.
This year, Bee’s dapples are arriving early, and she is also slimming down nicely. She is no longer grazing full-time and is being ridden daily, so the combination of more structure and more work is showing up in all the right ways.
Wednesday was a quieter kind of progress.
Because it had rained all day Tuesday, the horses were kept in their stalls. I went out to give Bee her hormone shot and spent extra time with her afterward, curry comb in hand. If you have never seen a horse enjoy grooming, it can be surprisingly endearing. Bee especially loves the side of her neck and under her chin rubbed with the curry comb.
So I slowed down and gave her a proper spa treatment.
No agenda. No lesson. No expectations.
Just some quiet care for a horse who has been working hard.
And maybe for me too.
Bee was so relaxed she was yawning consistently so I caught a few funny pics.
She looks like she is laughing.
It’s the nose scrunch for me.
Horse people understand this part.
Sometimes the hardest decisions are not about money, training plans, or logistics. They are about the connection you have with an animal who did not arrive perfect, but arrived important.
So for now, I am sitting with it.
Gathering information. Watching progress. Listening to people I trust, aka Sarah. Trying not to make an emotional decision or a rushed one.
Turns out, Bee and I are both learning to think a little differently, and it’s starting to come together slowly.
I’ve said this before, but training and progress are not linear, they’re jagged. A few steps forward, one step back, and then a few more forward.
I’m looking for progress, not perfection.
Until next time,
Christina & Bee 🐝💛