We are celebrating the Adaptable Arabian as our September Breed of the Month on YourDressage!
Did you know that dressage riders who partner with a member of this ancient breed are eligible for special awards through the Adequan®/USDF All-Breeds Awards program, as the Arabian Horse Association is a participating organization?
Here, a rider from Region 4 shares the secret to overcoming major obstacles with her Arabian, including a colic episode that almost cost him his life: kindness and compassion.
By Jetta Milam
My name is Jetta Milam, and this is Loki, also lovingly known as “Sass-quatch,” with an emphasis on the sass. I still remember the day I saw the Facebook ad that would change my life. I was cleaning my room, and my mom yelled for me from the other room that a client of my trainer was selling her horse. I, of course, had already seen it and told my mom I absolutely had no interest. The reason? It was an Arabian. From what I’d seen, I wanted to stay as far from the breed as possible. In true motherly fashion, my vote got vetoed, and we set up a trial.
I had the opportunity to trial Loki for two weeks, and it felt like the stars had aligned. For the first time in my riding career, I had a horse with upper-level talent. While I knew he was it, I still wasn’t sure. I am a very analytical thinker and take decisions extremely seriously. But then, I learned what his show name was; it contained the word “momentous,” meaning a decision that has great importance on the future.
That was the sign I needed. My family asked for some favors, and we were able to pool the money together to purchase Loki.
Unfortunately, the honeymoon period ended about six months in. I felt utterly helpless. The beautiful partnership we had was shattered, and instead, I began to question whether I had made a mistake. Every ride ended in disaster; he constantly took off, would rear, buck, spin, and fly backward. It got to the point where I had to be on a lunge line to take lessons. It felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke. I was no stranger to unpredictable horses; it was the definition of riding my childhood pony. But whereas my pony had always been hot, Loki hadn’t. And in my gut, I felt something was wrong.
At this time, COVID was in full swing, and I felt more isolated than ever with my issues. To make things worse, Loki sustained an injury in the field, which led to another setback. When he was cleared to ride, it was strictly walking. I’ve always been a researcher and open-minded, but this spurred a newfound desperation that only a computer and books could solve. I was willing to try anything. This is when I learned my beloved horse needed more than I was offering.
In my excitement, in developing a horse that had potential, I’d gotten greedy. My once-tolerant horse was bored and was telling me enough was enough in the only way he knew how. And while that injury sucked, it was also an awakening – because it forced me to slow down and figure out what he liked.
This is when I started training with positive reinforcement (R+) and incorporated more cross-training. I did more groundwork, pole work, and hacks around the property. Some days, I would hop on bareback in nothing but a halter and just walk around. I started regaining joy I never realized I’d lost, because my horse wasn’t the only one who was burnt out; I was, too. In my attempt to catch up to where society deemed I should be, Loki paid the price.
In 2021, my dream of attending the Great American/USDF Regional Championships came to fruition. After trying for many years and something inevitably holding me back, I had a newfound hope. However, that hope was squashed. Just when I had my partner figured out, and was looking at Third Level, Loki colicked. The vet came, and I was told he was not a surgery candidate, as his condition was too poor to even make the trailer ride to the operating room. The vet left to take another call while I said my goodbyes.
Loki has always been prideful, and seeing my beautiful boy so utterly helpless was the worst thing I had ever seen. I only had Loki for three years at this point, but I had made many memories. So I spent what was supposed to be my last moments with him retelling my favorite memories of us. I remember being angry, feeling like the universe owed us more time. I’m not a religious person, but I prayed to anything I could think of. And I made a promise to Loki and whoever or whatever else was listening, that if he pulled through, I’d never take a day for granted. And when the vet got back, Loki’s health took an unexpected turn for the better. My greatest accomplishment with Loki hasn’t been a high point, or regionals, or ribbons. It was understanding that every day is a gift.
This significantly impacted my riding. I prioritized cross-training more than ever. To this day, I still feel like we’re on borrowed time. No one gets that close to death without repercussions. So, I try my hardest to make every day matter and prioritize having fun. Loki has taught me so many life lessons, but the biggest has been to stop putting myself on a timeline. All horses progress at different paces, and I’ve found that Arabians take a little extra time in the dressage arena. They take longer to pack on muscle than other breeds and are incredibly smart. If an Arabian gains nothing from doing a task, they aren’t going to do it. That’s why it’s so important in creating and maintaining a meaningful partnership.
One way Loki likes to express his very large personality in our said partnership is by terrorizing every camera pointed at him. Every single time this horse gets a photoshoot, he makes sure he’s smiling and puts his teeth on display for everyone to see.
To any young riders who feel stuck, to those who are afraid to ride their horse, and to the equestrians who can’t seem to catch a break, keep going. Because one day, someone is going to notice your relentless work ethic. And one day, you are going to regain that joy of riding. And eventually, something will give or click, and all will be right.
