By Karen V. Robertson
Last fall, after training and showing jumpers at a wonderful barn, full of beloved coaches and friends, for over a decade, I was forced to make a tough decision for me and my horse. But that decision led us on a journey that I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Diamond Knight (nicknamed Jäger) wasn’t just any horse – he was the unicorn I’d been waiting for my whole riding life. The big, bay Hanoverian was intelligent and sensitive, with big gaits and a curious, enthusiastic attitude. He gave me courage I’d never felt before, jumping bigger courses (in my mid-forties, mind you!) than I’d ever thought I was capable of as a rider. And we weren’t just competent, we were competitive.
When I would walk courses with my coach at the show, the 1.10m oxers seemed impossibly big and wide, causing my guts to squirm with anxiety. But the moment I settled into the saddle on Jäger, it felt like the class was ours to win. With the most adjustable stride of any horse I’d ever ridden, we would pull off inside turns and leave strides out in the jump-off, often earning the fastest time in the class with his effortless power.
But then, following our second summer together, things suddenly changed. Jäger started telling us that something was wrong. After investigation with a specialist, he was diagnosed with posterior equine recurrent uveitis (ERU). ERU is an autoimmune disease that causes periodic flares of inflammation in the back of the eyes; the inflammation impedes vision but is impossible to detect without an ultrasound or ophthalmic scope.
After Jäger had surgery and treatments that had shown success in other horses with ERU, a new show season began with hope…but ended in heartbreak. I came to the realization that it simply wasn’t fair to ask Jäger to keep jumping. After getting just a taste of competing at a level I’d only dreamed about, I had to accept that I’d never ride Jäger back into the jumper ring. I was at a crossroads that is only too familiar to lifelong riders. Who among us hasn’t had a horse that developed an injury or illness?
As I continued to ride Jäger on the flat, I considered what to do next. I couldn’t afford a second horse, and after being a jumper rider for decades, it was hard to imagine not continuing as one – after all, that’s what I knew best. Before he became a jumper with Emily Tarr, his previous owner, Jäger had been given somewhat of a dressage foundation by Emily and her coach Holly Parker, who imported him from Germany as a four-year-old. Given that history, along with being a dream to ride on the flat, it was natural to wonder whether he could transition into a happy life as a dressage horse. Then, when I pulled out his passport and learned that his sire, Diamond Hit, was a prolific dressage stallion, that was the final straw. A dressage career seemed like a great second chance for Jäger.
It turned out there was only one problem with this plan – I just couldn’t let him go.
When a friend and local dressage rider came to see Jäger for a potential care lease, she was definitely interested. But as I put my tack away and got in my car that day, I was suddenly overcome with sadness. It felt like I was sending away my best friend. I blinked through tears, eyes stinging, as I imagined him in a new barn. I wondered if he would wonder where I was. Would his uveitis be managed all right by a new rider? And when my friend thanked me the next day, but said she was looking for a smaller horse and wished me luck finding the right situation for Jäger, relief flooded through me.
Suddenly, I knew that – at least for the time being – keeping Jäger with me was more important than whether we were jumping or not. I wanted to give him a second chance to be the amazing athlete he was, but I didn’t have to say goodbye to do that, did I? Plus, I figured that even a short stint riding dressage would be a great asset for my overall riding. As it turned out, I didn’t know the half of it.
A month later, Jäger and I moved just a few miles down the street here in Bend, Oregon, to Alliance Equestrian, to train with Mari Valsechini. A few weeks later, at the encouragement of Mari and all the new dressage friends I’d met, I signed up for our first show at DevonWood Equestrian Center. I figured checking out a show and seeing how it felt would help me decide if it was the right place for us to be.
While figuring out if the dressage ring was where we wanted to be was part of it, even more enticing was how my heart absolutely sung at the thought of stepping back into a show ring with my favorite partner. When we arrived at the show and rode him up to the warmup area, I swear Jäger looked at the ring, took in the fact that no jumps were set, and just took a big, deep breath. So off I went the next morning, trotting down centerline at Training Level and walking out five minutes later completely breathless, with a big smile on my face.
There was so much to learn about dressage, but I loved the fresh start. Mari had the huge task of training both me and Jäger in parallel, but what a fun journey it turned out to be for both of us. I had to relearn how to use my body and my aids. There was a lot of laughter, sore muscles, and building a new relationship step-by-step. We had to learn how to actually ride the walk. I learned how fun it was to get so much feedback from judges through both the scores and remarks, which I wish was something riders could benefit from in all disciplines. Perhaps the most incredible thing was how much Jäger seemed to love his new job. Riding him, Mari and I both felt him begin to understand the purpose of balance and learning movements. It felt like every week we progressed and stepped up to a new feel, and a new level of harmony.
As spring warmed into summer, I found that I felt truly at home with Jäger in our new discipline. Mari encouraged and believed in us from the beginning. With training being engaging, fun, and challenging, with a community both at home and at shows that welcomed and encouraged our journey, and with Jäger’s uveitis in complete remission, it suddenly occurred to me that even if Jäger was able to jump again, I knew that, as partners, we belonged in the dressage ring. By the end of the summer, Jäger and I were trotting down centerline at Third Level, and earning my USDF Bronze Medal together.
This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for second chances. A diagnosis or an injury doesn’t have to be the end of the road for your partnership with a special horse. Just because you’ve ridden the same discipline for decades, don’t let that stop you from taking a chance and trying something completely different. In fact, having a solid riding background is making my early dressage experience particularly rewarding, as the ‘ah ha!’ moments keep coming rapid fire, week after week. My riding education, my riding community, and my relationship with Jäger have all grown exponentially because I took this leap.
Cheers to the Oregon dressage community, where everyone is welcome and cheered for. It doesn’t matter what riding background you have or what breed of horse you’ve fallen in love with. The jumper ring will be there waiting for me to return someday. For now though, I can’t wait to get back to planning the choreography for my first ever musical freestyle with Jäger.
❤️❤️❤️❤️