Do horses enjoy being ridden?

Where horses are concerned, riding tends to be taken for granted. There’s this idea that horses are have to be ridden. The relationship between humans and horses is for a good part centred on riding: this has been the case for centuries. But should it still be? And do horses enjoy being ridden? 

I’ve sometimes heard this question being raised by non-horsey people who wonder if the horses they see racing, jumping, competing, run so fast, jump so high and do what their rider tells them because they enjoy it. One look at many of those horses’ facial expression, at tense movement or swishing tail could tell an educated person that it is not the case. Unfortunately, many horse-people (and haven’t we all been guilty of this at one point?) are blind to those all too common distress signals. 

Horses are not bicycles and riding them is not natural. If it was, why would the horses have to be broken (sometimes literally) to learn to accept a rider? After the end of their training, though some horses accept to be ridden, others do not, or not completely. 

If horses could talk and were asked if they enjoy being ridden, what would they answer? Some would say they don’t mind. Some would say they hate it. Others (most?) would have no idea that a choice could exist. That’s the problem. Very often, the horses are not given a choice. Though they are sentient beings with high cognitive abilities, they are used, and abused. Is riding them abuse? 

It’s a difficult question. One that makes me uneasy: I’m a rider and I love riding for the opportunity it gives me of becoming one with the horse, of feeling the horse, of seeing the world from another perspective. Riding a horse is an intimate and extraordinary experience. For the human. But what about the horse? 

Riding can only be ethical if is not a constant source of pain and discomfort for the horse. Riding can only be ethical if the horse can find some sort of enjoyment in it. Can this be the case when a bit of twisted wire cuts into his tongue and gums? Can a horse enjoy being ridden when the rider is way too heavy for him? Can a horse enjoy being ridden when spurs are constantly dug into his flanks? 

Yet when horses used to being ridden, even when it’s in a harsh, brutal way, are retired, due to old age or injury, they can become depressed. Why? Do they miss being used? Did they not mind it so much after all, being forgiving and adaptable creatures? Who knows… They had no choice. This ridden life was all they knew, and when their habits were taken away from them, they had nothing left. 

Those horses had never known freedom. The freedom of going where they want. The freedom of foraging for their food. The freedom of eating, sleeping, playing when they choose. The freedom of choosing with which horses they want to be. Has any domestic horse ever experienced the freedom of a feral one? 

When I ask myself if my horse enjoys being ridden, it’s not a straightforward question to answer. If you know me personally or have been following that blog from the start, you’ll be aware that this horse used to be a lesson-horse who loathed his job so much he ended up having a burn-out and attacking people who wanted to tack him up. 

He hated the bit. But because he was a “safe” horse once you managed to get on (he didn’t buck or bolt, not as he aged anyway), he was used for the beginners. He really disliked having inexpert riders on his back (because they often did not have a very good balance and pulled or kicked too much). He had impressive fits of headshaking and usually destabilised his riders so much with his behaviour that he spent many lesson simply standing in the middle of the arena, with a rider who had no clue about how to make him move. He hated being ridden. For him, it only equated with pain and discomfort. 

Then I bought him for his retirement (aged 14). I ride him still (bitless), but not as much that he was used to. We mostly do trail rides. Does he enjoy it? Some days he’s grumpy, others he’s ready to go on for hours, eager to explore. However, he’s fed up with jumping, fed up with arenas. 

When I got him, I introduced him to in-hand walks. Around the fields, in the woods. At first, he was not impressed. Judging by his expression and attitude, he appeared to prefer being ridden; I believe it is because he likes to be in front. Once, I was walking him in hand, then, on an impulse, climbed on bareback. His ears perked up, his step quickened. 

Is it because he enjoys being ridden? Because it gave him the impression that he was in charge, since I was not leading him anymore? It’s hard to answer. I guess that my horse does like trail rides: it’s like going on a adventure and he loves exploring and seeing the world. But very often, I have the impression that having a rider on board does not add to his pleasure. Being ridden is something he has almost always known, so he accepts it as part of life. Why wouldn’t he, if he never had any choice? 

A thoroughbred I used to exercise greeted me with a neigh when a came to ride him. Because he enjoyed being ridden? Well, he did look happy. But wasn’t it because he knew I would be taking him out of his paddock and relieve the monotony of being stuck all day in the same enclosed space? For him too, being ridden was part of life, part of his world and he did not question it. 

Asking those questions does not, as a rider, make me quite comfortable. My mind gives me an answer and my heart another. Thought I cannot clearly say that it is right to ride horses and that horses enjoy it, I cannot renounce that magical feeling of being one with the horse. 

Sometimes, I ride my horse without tack. Sometimes, we go the forest, where I slip off his bridle and let him choose the paths and paces. Then, I sense he is happy. He makes independent decisions. He has a sort of choice and he seems to forget that I am on his back. He has the impression that he’s free. Or maybe it is that we truly have become one, not a rider directing a horse but a single being wandering in the forest. 

Does riding need to stop or should it simply take different shapes? It should be all about partnership. It should be without pain. It should give horses a choice. Is that possible? Or is tradition too powerful, dictating how we should perceive and ride horses? 

All we can do is try to make it so and ask ourselves those uncomfortable questions. And then try to do what’s best for the horse and for us.