By Colleen Rull
We all have a story to tell—one that brought us to the horse, the trainer, or the barn where we find ourselves today. They rarely follow a straight path, instead winding through unexpected turns, climbing hills we never imagined we could conquer, and leading us through moments when we feel we have failed miserably or our hearts have been broken so completely that quitting seems like the only option. But isn’t that often where success begins? Sometimes, our dressage journey takes us down roads we don’t understand until much later, when, in one magical moment, the pieces finally fall into place, and all the dots connect. This is one of those stories.
Rewind. It Started with Fergee.
Two years ago, my friend and mentor, Barbara Wood, generously gifted me a lovely mare named Fergee to add to the small breeding program my husband, Brian, and I were building. Barb had spent years watching my journey unfold. From growing as a rider and transitioning from adult amateur to professional, and building a breeding and training program of my own, Barb had been there. She had been a steady supporter, encouraging me to take risks and pursue all opportunities.
Barb had a gelding out of Fergee that she had bred, who was then two years old. At the time, I gave little thought to the young gelding. I was simply thrilled about the broodmare, and the opportunity to add her to our breeding program. I had no idea then just how significant that unassuming young gelding would become in my own story.
The Heartbreak.
The heart horse; the one who completes you; the one who makes you feel like you’ll never connect with another horse like that again. Mine is a mare. She has humbled me, challenged me, and transformed me into a rider who feels as much as she thinks. That connection is a gift, a kind of love unlike any other.
But this summer, an ongoing lameness issue finally caught up with us. Although she is still rideable, I had to face the reality that our days of training at the FEI levels were likely coming to an end. It was time to begin thinking about her next chapter as a broodmare.
For weeks, I struggled with the loss of the FEI future I had envisioned for us. Knowing that a chapter of our journey was closing was very difficult to accept. And then there was the practical reality: I had no upper-level horse to replace her, and no savings to buy one.
One week later, two unexpected opportunities appeared. A friend in Wellington connected me with Marne Martin-Tucker, who generously gifted me a six-year-old gelding. Around the same time, Barb Wood tracked me down. I was schooling a client at a local barn where Barb happened to be watching. She asked, “Hey, remember Fergee’s foal, Star? He’s four now. Can I drop him off this weekend for training? I really don’t want to ride a horse that young.”
My response? “Sure. Why not?”
I had never even seen Star, but I wasn’t about to say no to the opportunity to ride a young horse Barb had bred—especially one out of Fergee.
Our First Ride.
He was behind my leg. Steering was, well, let’s just say minimal. We struggled with the connection. Stretching? Not happening. And cantering? I might as well forget that for the moment. But I also felt the magic. I felt the potential. Star had just returned from the cowboy who had done his initial backing, and there was something about that first ride that sent my adrenaline rushing and my mind spinning with possibilities. He had the ability, and he was trainable. I just needed to become his partner and guide him through the process, making it playful along the way. He needed to discover that having a human on his back could actually be fun.
I’ll never forget turning to Barb and saying, “When do you want him back? Because I’d like him to stay indefinitely. I think there’s a talented young horse in there with a huge future. How would you feel about signing him up for the Nutrena/USDF Breeders Championship Series Final in Lake St. Louis in four weeks? I think I can get him ready.” Without hesitation, Barb agreed!
The weeks leading up to the competition were about much more than preparing for a show. Star and I did a lot of cross-training. We hacked out in a field, and played with groundwork and cavaletti. Some days, we spent time bonding in the round pen. Not every ride needed to accomplish something measurable. Sometimes, the most important work was building trust and helping him feel confident with me.
I also needed to find his go button for the canter. That meant getting out of the arena, letting him gallop in the field, and helping him discover the joy of moving forward with a rider on his back. I wanted him to learn that he could trust me, and that we were in this together.
The Competition.
Was I nervous? Yes. Was I worried he wouldn’t pick up the canter, or would get behind my leg? Absolutely. I wasn’t able to school him in the competition arena the day before for arena familiarization, so we were going to have to wing it!
Star’s first time in the arena was during the in-hand portion of the competition, where Bruce “Turtle” Griffin presented him, earning an incredible score of 87%! We all had goosebumps watching Star shine. He was showing everyone what I had glimpsed in that very first ride: a talented young horse with so much to offer.
When it was my turn to ride him in the materiale classes, I knew I needed to ride him just as we did at home. He is a young horse I was still getting to know, and my job was to give him as much confidence as possible. I wanted him to feel that I was right there with him, no matter what the arena asked of us. He was forward, proud, connected, and stayed with me throughout his classes. I couldn’t have asked him for anything more.
As we waited for the placings to be announced, I looked over at Barb, Turtle, and my friends and said, “I’m sure we won’t win this, and that’s okay. Star gave me everything I could ever ask for.”
And then it happened. To my surprise, “Royal Star NHF” was announced as the Nutrena/USDF Mid-West Breeders Championships Series Four-Year-Old Prospect Award winner. I wrapped my arms around him and burst into tears. We did it!
Connecting the Dots.
Dressage is more than a sport. It has a way of unexpectedly weaving people and horses into our lives in ways we could never have imagined. It carries us through heartache, when the path forward seems impossible to find, and challenges us to take risks when success is nothing more than a distant possibility.
We may not understand why certain doors close or others suddenly open. We may question the timing, doubt ourselves, or wonder if we have anything left to give. But sometimes, we have to trust the process and keep moving forward, even when we cannot yet see where the path leads.
Because one day, we may look back and realize that the moments that seemed disconnected — the heartbreak, the unexpected kindness, the risks we took, and the horse we never planned to ride — were all leading us somewhere.
And suddenly, the dots connect.
