One of the greatest attributes of horseback riding is that there is always more to learn. Something I had been struggling with for some time with Frankie was our learning curve. We had hit a plateau. Sure we could jump around big fences, our flat work wasn’t bad, but we weren’t progressing. We weren’t “finished”.
Something I needed, as a rider, was to feel as though I was progressing. Showing can be a way to gauge your progression. However, Frankie and I had shown through open jumpers and did well. Therefore, outside of attempting to campaign at the upper levels of showjumping again, I was at a loss.
Even though we had competed at a high level—and done well, it wasn’t always pretty. To my fault, Frankie was pushed to jump too big too early. There were some dark moments after our show days, and when I finally got him performing again, it was on our own accord.
I was alone for most of these years; a husband to look after me on the ground was as close to any feedback I received. Frankie had gone from showing at 4’6″ to stopping at cross rails, and I didn’t expect any trainer to not start over-facing him again.
When I was able to bring his confidence back jumping a 4’9″ course, it wasn’t textbook. He needed to be ridden a little unorthodox. I rode him how he wanted to be ridden—not necessarily how he should have been ridden. I rode him for his confidence, not for his best performance. He needed to use himself better. We sometimes fought. But I got him to the point where he wouldn’t refuse a fence even when he should have. I did that on my own.
I was proud of that.
It was time to refine our style. My riding had been affected by the crutches I was giving Frankie. I fell into bad habits. Mr. Horse still jumped anything, but I wanted us to jump anything, consistently, with good form…and much much softer. Smooth out the edges.
I wanted refinement. I wanted finishing. I could already jump big. I wasn’t looking for a trainer. I was looking for an instructor.
There’s a big difference.
A trainer is a person who can teach a horse. An instructor is a person who can teach a person.
They are not always mutually exclusive. Not all instructors can ride, and not all trainers can teach. It’s also fair to say not all trainers can ride and not all instructors can teach. I could care less if the person I found could get on Frankie and do what I needed to do with him. This was about me.
I needed a coach to help us improve our going. Someone who really understood the horse, the communication between horse and rider, and the strengths and weaknesses of each individual horse. Someone who could articulate effective symbiosis—most often by creating a horse who loves his/her job.
I found him.
—
We unloaded Frankie onto a beautiful property. The grounds were pristine. Big, gorgeous trees, sprawling house, a whole crew at work.
The ring was invisible from the site where we tacked up. I heard voices, some of instruction. Two figures passed by. Random Saturday at the barn—Tailored Sportsman breeches, Joules polo’s, GPA helmets. All of a sudden, I had that feeling I don’t like.
I got on and headed to the ring. This was an evaluation “lesson”. I had already explained our history and warned of my fear of changing my riding style over big jumps. Frankie liked to be ridden the way I rode him, so to change his way of going, we needed to start small.
Intimidated? No. Nervous? Yes.
We went around. I was impressed at the speed and succinctness of the notes. Five minutes warming up, and I felt like this guy had just flipped through a photo book of our entire history. He made some pretty educated guesses at nuggets I had not previously offered.
We also got some really nice feedback. I was not looking to impress, au contraire—Frankie and I had not received formal education in some time. And it turns out we were not a lost cause. We took a few steps in that first evaluation lesson I was sure were months down the road, if at all.
But my respect was earned, mostly, through this instructor’s evaluation of Frankie. Specifically, Frankie’s mind. He seemed to want to provide calm to my horse. To give me the tools to enable this calm, as if to pet Frankie by the head an say into his ear, “Hey bud, you’re going to be OK.”
The guy had clearly seen a lot of horses in his day, and though he admitted Frankie would be challenging—and made no promises, his demeanor suggested at least part of him, on occasion, could momentary forget the posh lifestyle and let the endless facade drop into the background. Regardless from where fame or finances had followed him, this instructor was not totally inured from the spectacle of helping a talented horse grow up and wear big-boy pants. The lesson exceeded my expectations. And self-aware as he ever let on, we were told to keep coming back—regardless of our perception of the surroundings, for he wanted a project.
—
In the following days, we went to work with some new-found spring in our step. Some of the evaluation really hit home, and immediately Frankie and I were better for it. Improvement was palpable—quite literally, I could feel it in my hands.
How happy I was to have found an instructor I could get so much out of. He saw my horse for what he was. Incredibly athletic, sound, but apprehensive about getting over-faced. Sacrificing using himself over needing me “on him” all the time. Almost like my legs and hands were a security blanket. Seeing Frankie wanted me to make all the decisions so he could just focus on jumping the fence. Even if he had to get underneath the fence to get over it. Impressed with how obvious it was Frankie needed to be more comfortable with himself, be confident, and take more control of the situation. That HE would be happier if he could make some decisions. And he saw his job was to help me help Frankie cheer up.
If only…I hadn’t hated the rest of the experience outside of the lesson.
Still, we progressed far more rapidly, and kindly, over the next few months than I thought possible. Never had I heard an instructor more interested and concerned about the horse’s need to enjoy what he is doing in order to do what he does better. And to think I wasn’t going to even consider taking a lesson from a convicted horse killer.
—
“Paul Valliere is around…I mean…you know…there was that thing, and…I understand how some people feel about him. But he’s really good.”
Two years ago, I couldn’t place the name. Though in the barn isle, judgment came swift and fast enough. Jeers. Words of hatred. Vile. Evil. Villainous sneer. To hear the locals talk suggested he was a politician who escaped treason.
Online chatter was not much better. I read more comparisons to child molesters than I did about his circumstance. The facts were hard to come by—then finally the reference to a cohort named “Sandman” put it together.
OOOOOh. Paul’s THAT guy.
The vocal majority of direct and indirect feedback about Paul Valliere is that he is to be despised, without question, on principle. As if our horses need a blanket of spurn to protect them from being electrocuted at the mere mention of his name. The hatred is almost worn as a badge.
“There, there, horse. I love you. I won’t kill you. BECAUSE I HATE PEOPLE WHO KILL HORSES. Shhhhh. It will be OK.”
Which…is mostly understandable. Never mind the quandary posed by the shady ethics of wholesale cow slaughter (yummy). Horse murder is bad. Always bad.
And though it’s true only a real scumbag could beat (or request) bone contusions be applied to livestock, Paul was never indicted on animal cruelty charges—it was insurance fraud. Relatively speaking, a lightning bolt to the heart ain’t such a bad way to go.
Then after another really good lesson, given the chance, I pressed Paul on his reputation.
“Hey, that stuff that happened to me was a long time ago. Long time ago. I made some mistakes, and…I paid for it. But what’s done is done. People forget it’s been 25 years or so in the past…”
When we got in the truck, my husband pressed me. I should also mention he could barely contain his laughter. “I didn’t see that coming,” he told me.
My statement was innocent enough. Through Paul, Frankie and I saw wonderful progress. To others, I wasn’t shy about where we were training. After the initial shrieks, most people ended by asking for his number. And of the few people I passed his way, Paul let me know he appreciated the gesture and that it was nice to have someone in my (work related) field extoll his virtues. At that point in our almost-weekly instruction, the gratitude was not rare, though to be honest…
“…it’s not always an easy sell, Paul. I mean, most people think you’re an asshole. It’s hard work telling people you’re not so bad.”
“Did you notice he said, ‘stuff that happened to me’?” asked Frankie and mine’s chariot driver.
It was hard not to notice—though unreasonable on which to draw conclusions. At worst, the line foretold his method of internalizing his predicament. With the FBI crashing in on him, dangling his freedom like a Parelli carrot, and getting suited up for some first-class wiretapping espionage, the moments may have felt like they were coming at him. And he was simply playing defense.
Despite his vocal remorse, it would be hard not to speculate this poster-child for bad-trainers only might be so…because he got caught. Hardly few people admit to crimes for which they are not suspected. But despite his role in one of the worst scandals in the history of the horse world, Paul’s decent into moral infamy is largely…unearned.
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Big show barns, especially hunter/jumper barns, can be a very uninviting place. Essentially, those barns don’t cater to riders, they cater to people with money who want to win. This means there are very nice horses, very well trained horses, very expensive horses, and people who show up to sit atop these horses and win blue ribbons. Largely, Paul also runs a sale barn, thus there were many people in and out who wanted to buy their way into said ribbons.
A lot of people who profess to hate Paul and all he stands for have never, and will never, show at the AA level. This is important. Because the majority of people that WOULD, have, will, or do ride with him show at the big shows, and this is an interesting correlation.
Above the windows in the tack room at Paul’s New England facility hang framed party-atmosphere decadence. Aviator glasses, glorious 70′s mustache, bleached hair even then, the photos and articles tell the tale. The tale of power. The tale of disco-era Florida show circuits. Looking at the collection that seemingly presents itself as the high-water mark of professional prosperity, inferences to coke, greed, and influence make themselves.
“It’s like Paul’s version of BOOGIE NIGHTS in there,” says my husband. No stranger to the art of ribbing, he once tried to sweat Paul on the now missing facial hair.
Paul has a great and friendly chuckle. “Oh, the mustache, Josh? Geez, those were the times. I tell you, the first year we went down [to Florida], I think we had about a dozen horses. Some of them not-so-great horses even, and every one of my people won. I mean all of them. We took home all the trophies.
The next year, we had 80 horses. 80! You would not believe the staff I needed just to keep up. Those were crazy times, I tell you. I think we did about six million in revenue that second show season. And it cost us six-and-a-half.”
It’s in the extreme upper-crust of the horse world—nigh, business, that Paul has spent most of his life. A context that invites big losses and big gains, an environment ripe with corruption, lies, and high-stakes tomfoolery. He was a man very much of his time, so much that what’s easy to condone today seemed like moral imperative for a (debatably) morally-lacking bunch. He wasn’t the first, he won’t be the last, and as a recipient of the the masses’ condonement, he’s in the minority.
Since the State and AHSA/USEF (to a degree) feel penance has been paid, it’s likely the ire invoked by Paul owes not to his name or even to his choices, but to his existence.
An existence that is nothing short of blessed.
Paul has the same clients he’s always had. They own baseball teams, travel in helicopters, live in amusement parks, and employ servants to wipe up the crumbs. If it’s true all great fortunes started with great crimes, Paul’s indiscretions at worst put him in good company. I submit the populist anger is misdirected at his former deeds. It might rather be spent aimed at said company he keeps.
Which was the rub, for me. His horses are cared for very well, the riders are catered to exceptionally.
Paul treated me very well and didn’t skimp on my lessons. He worked hard at progressing me and Frankie. We’re better for it.
When it comes down to it, I’m not the dream client. I’m never going to have a ton of money to drop on a horse. The only way I’m getting to a Florida show is if I find a sponsor/backer to pay my way. Winning isn’t everything to me. I would rather ride a round well and I mean RIDE rather than sit in the saddle and point the horse to fences to win a blue ribbon. I never even kept my ribbons. My tack-trunks have always been utilitarian; decoration free zones they are.
—
At the end of one of our lessons, a cab pulled up. Mind, this was well outside of an hour from any nearby airport.
I undressed and walked Frankie, letting him graze for a bit in the beautiful hunt field. Out of the cab stepped a girl, ready to go. Boots on. A fully-tacked horse awaited.
As Frankie and I (probably mostly me) cooled off and contemplated our past and future, I drifted in an out of watching the young amateur’s round.
My sweat-filled ride was likely an anomaly of that day. The young amateur hopped around as just she should, horse doing all the work. There are fewer places I’d rather take in such beauty—gorgeous horse finished to the nines, being absolutely perfect, sun tickling the tousled hair of both our manes (me and Frankie).
It was SO BORING.
Paul possess the rare ability to take any horse and turn the rider into a passenger. People pay top dollar for his help in reaching their goals.
Privilege surrounds him. And because of his unequivocal talent, he might actually be worth every penny that’s come to him.
There and then, the long ride, and fatigue, made me notice the day start it’s break from afternoon to evening. As we loaded, I too felt the beginnings of a transition from curiosity to opinion.
I was quiet on the way home. I may have even taken a nap. I thought about our progress, I thought about what I’d learned, and I thought about the lessons before and after mine.
We skipped a couple weeks after than. Then went some more, and then took an indefinite hiatus. I liked riding with Paul. I know Frankie really liked us riding with Paul. I just wish more of the lives he’s touched placed riding as a passion instead of treating the-act-of-horsemanship as a status symbol. Even if I allow that his ability to get the best of the world has not jaded him (a big stretch), it’s jaded his barn.
He probably prefers it that way; I’m not sure if I’ll be back.
very well written article. I am kind of in the same place–found a good trainer that I can get along with and get results from but I don’t quite fit the mold she has made for me. So definitely uncertain about my future. Luckily, my horse is young so I have a lot of time to figure that out.
Wow. That was an intense story. I don’t know that I would ride with someone who has had that kind of history, but then again, you are right, there are probably more with that history that haven’t gotten caught. But it sounds like he is very gifted. Guess you really have to decide where your priority lies. I knew people who rode with him, they did really well. But never much liked their company.
Either way, I’ve been at high end jumper barns. I don’t much care for them myself. Always wanting to learn and improve myself, all I could seem to do is get a new horse that was fancier, jumped bigger, and generally wasn’t as sound as the last.
After winning in the hi jr/am jumpers and finding myself only as a good passenger, but not a good rider. I sold my expensive show horse for next to nothing because he wouldn’t pass a vetting and bought a young horse that I’m learning to RIDE on.
It’s been a rocky road. No winning yet, maybe never. I sure can stay on and get over a course even when it isn’t pretty.
Sometimes its not just the winning, but what you ride for. Too bad in competition its really how much bank roll you have and not at all your talent.
You are a great rider and although I’m sure you found Paul beneficial to you and your horse I’m sure you are far more talented than you give yourself credit for and you can overcome any obstacles you and Frankie face.
If you want to run with big dogs then you better have the talent to back it up… if you don’t then embrace what you have and accept your limitations whether it’s money or talent and stop whining. Make the best of what you have. So many riders have been a product of Paul. They are still out there today, successful talented riders and many of them did not have a lot of money but they worked hard, made it happen & they did not let superficial goings on around them deter them. I have seen more than my share and then some of those as you put it who have “bought” their ribbons, those that are just passengers or so one may think. Those riders are still working hard. Yes, as it maybe easier to get there with a “made” horse, the rider still has a job to do and they must do it well to win. This is also the nature of the business and any big barn with a great trainer/instructor will be that way. If it wasn’t there would not be any. I have been on the outside looking in but I did not let that stop me from making my goals. I realized my limits (mainly $$) but I still pressed on and became a better rider and person for it. I have met and worked for many of “those” people. Some are just there for status; true, but they are fewer than you may think and some have been the nicest, generous and humble people that I have met. Do not judge a book or a barn (in this case) by its cover. When you find an instructor that can help you as much as Paul can you need to stay there and keep learning. What happens in and around the barn should not be your focus but it seems that what goes on in and around the barn is all you can focus on, therefore letting it get it the way of progress. No one is out to make anyone feel they do not “fit in” only you can make yourself feel that way by alienating yourself from the environment rather than making it work for you.
Whining? I saw no whining in this article. Are you calling a moral dilemma whining?
I read this, then reread this because at first I was put off. I was one of those people. I bought my ribbons and I probably walked around with a chip on my shoulder. I don’t like admitting it but I have stepped away from that scene and do know what it can be like.
I rode with Paul and bought horses from him. I won many ribbons and spent a lot of money. I knew I wasn’t good and I didn’t care. I had fancy horses and I was in the blue. After many years spent in Florida I realized how out of touch the “big dogs” if you want to call them that actually are. I too was out of touch.
I still ride and I still show. I don’t win as much as I used to. I have a great trainer, but she is no Paul. Then again I don’t spend as much on my horses or my training but spend just as much on showing. I have a little more fun now. Paul is a great trainer in fact I think he is one of the best. I understand the moral quandary you face. I’m lucky because I have the financial ability to do as much as I would like with riding and showing. That doesn’t mean I necessarily enjoy the crowd that goes along with it. There are many nice people that ride with Paul. You cannot deny that most are very entrenched in the lifestyle that goes along with being an equestrian. That lifestyle is of the privileged. I don’t agree that there are products of Paul out there that are successful that had no money. He’s not one to give free lessons or a free stall at the shows to talent at least not that I ever saw. The working students barely even ever rode.
There might be people who improved as riders because of Paul and they didn’t have money but someone with goals to get to the top aren’t going to get there without deep pockets, especially not with Paul.
For me even though I might fit the class bracket to still be with Paul. The reality is I like the group of people I’m with now. They are eager, talented, maybe not all with the means to go to Florida, but they won’t stop dreaming. My trainer doesn’t compare but she gives a ton back to the people who don’t have the means. She gives free lessons all the time to a few of the amateurs and juniors that just can’t afford it. There were two amateurs a few years ago that went to Florida and only had to pay show fees, she let them work everything else off. Even though she’s no Paul she is a pretty good trainer. You get what you pay for and Paul is expensive. It’s just nice to have a dose of reality at the barn. I even tack my own horse up!
You just need to decide whether you can put the blinders on, spend the money and learn from one of the best. Or do what you can, within your means, either on your own which you can clearly do or find someone who can at least help guide you.
Good luck to you.
hmmm, lots to ponder. I wish you had ended your blog here, “Paul’s decent into moral infamy is largely…unearned.”
Few things to consider, you mention the GPA and Joules polo, do I see a Speed Air atop your head and you are sporting a lovely Joules polo in your video my dear? Why did you get the “feeling you didn’t like”? Did you forget to wear your Joules? Or was it the upkeep of the facility?
Paul is no saint, not by a long shot. But, he has turned out some amazing riders who are now amazing trainers. If you had done some digging into the history of Acres Wild Farm, and back in the day when it was considered to be the “dynasty” of facilities, you would find that many of the riders did come from conservative families. Families that made sacrafices for their kids to learn from the best. Not much different from many sports these days where kids are shipped off to coaches houses for elite training.
When you ship in for a lesson, or you are lucky enough to board there, you are treated the same. Your lesson is jam packed with information, knowledge, and mostly hard work. If you are riding a $1000 horse, or a $100,000 horse, to Paul, your money is green regardless. Unlike many so called trainers out there who are basically nobody’s but only pay attention the the well off kids…been there.
Yes, stop your whining and go learn from the best. That is, if you want to.
oh, and don’t forget your Joules this time.
Well, here’s the thing about clothing and GPA—I don’t pay retail. If I didn’t work in a store, I wouldn’t be rocking that stuff.
As I said “Paul treated me very well and didn’t skimp on my lessons”; there is no doubt that I received the same quality in my lesson as someone who is spending thousands of dollars a month with Paul. That is something that is hard to find, whether it’s at a big barn with a “named” trainer or a small hole in the wall facility. I respect that, which is why I pointed it out.
However as you said “your money is green regardless.” Despite who Paul helped when he was younger, green clearly rules his roost these days. It’s palpable and just a bit too hard to ignore.
Two dum-dum comments from Jen and Anon. Reading comprehension much?
Is this writing too subversive for you two? Are you PaulV apologizers? Isn’t it pretty obvious Kristine is saying (with a lot of couth no doubt) that thought Paul is talented he’s still kind-of a (um) “jerk” and he surrounds himself with “jerks”. That’s a pretty big moral dilemma, putting money in the pocket of a jerk who likes other jerks. Duh, right?
I thought this article was delightfully written. Very interesting format. Keep it up honey.
You go GRRRL, as usually. BTW the site is nice, I can see more articles.
It doesn’t matter what discipline of the sport you are in or where you get your training….It has always been known as the “sport of kings” money will always be an issue, it’s just the way it is. To get good training you have to spend. I do recognize that this article was very well written (A+) and that there is a moral dilemma in the article. If you have this dilemma then why go in the first place? The research was done you knew who he was and the circumstances. This article is very critical of someone you probably hardly even know. Opinions, internet, a few casual conversations and pictures in a tack room do not makeup for getting to know someone. I don’t condone what Paul did but I believe he has paid his debt. On many occasions I have also seen him and other trainers help out the rider who was talented yet had no money and take them to the top. These trainers are also running a business for their livelihood, without the bigger clients they would not be able to even support one rider/working student never a few of them at time. I just found that most of the article is about money and not “fitting in” in that atmosphere etc. If that is not your style then move on. You will miss out on great training but you’ll probably find something decent elsewhere. It’s just as well that you should.
I get it.
I read this over the weekend and then a few times over the beginning of the week. I have had mixed feeling myself about Paul. I have never ridden with him. I have known people who have. A few nice overall a bit of the upper crust and proud of it. I show at the big shows and work hard to get there. I have heard nothing but amazing descriptions of Paul’s training, but had a hard time forgetting what he had done.
I troll COTH forums and have read the million different threads on Paul and what a horrible person he is and never really came to my own conclusion about it. When I read this I had to admit I agreed with your moral dilemma but also didn’t know which one. The ability to ride with someone who had a horse killed for money or to be a part of the upper crust and look down on the lowly working man spending every penny they have to get to those horse shows.
Then I read your response to the anon and it all made sense. Killing a horse for money and being completely driven by money by having high end clients and catering to that class is really the same thing. Money drove him to have a horse killed just as it drives his daily life. Thus being surrounded by money and being driven to buy, sell, and train horses for a large amount of money is the part in which you struggle.
At first I agreed with the whiny statement but then it all made sense. Its hard to give someone money especially hard earned money to someone who is completely driven by that money and it surrounds them in every way. I’m sure he is a fabo trainer but I know that slimy feeling that you get when your around someone driven by cash and power as opposed to passion.
Depending on what your goals are is probably what will help you make the decision. Of course if you don’t have the money to ride with someone like him then that makes the decision for you. I say stand proud and do what makes you feel good.
What a great story. A guy who killed a horse for money is probably all about money no matter how talented they are. You are better than that and have talent to do whatever you want. Sure you might learn better and faster from him but I know what it’s like to ride in a bad environment. It’s not whiny to say you don’t feel comfortable someplace. I sure wouldn’t want to be at a barn that made me feel like I didn’t fit in. Running with the big dogs? That takes money not talent. If it takes killing a horse for money to be a big dog than I say stay far away from those big dogs.
Living in RI, everyone knew Paul and everyone pretty much agreed that he was the best. That was never questioned. But he was always a bit sleezy. One of my former trainers used to joke that one of her students fell off in the schooling area of a show and Paul (standing right next to the schooling jump) caught her. My trainer liked to say that he checked her pockets for cash on the way down. A week later he had called the girl’s parents and convinced them that their daughter was SOOO talented that she really needed the best trainer around, and she was gone! That was a typical Paul story.
I read all the horsey news about the Sandman, Paul, Barney, etc. when it happened. Just because Paul only was charged with insurance fraud doesn’t mean that’s all he did. Remember he cooperated with the Feds. To me it’s always been very clear. He killed a perfectly healthy horse that just wasn’t talented enough in order to fatten his clients pockets rather than admit that they’d spent too much money on a ‘piece of junk’. That makes it very clear to me that this man doesn’t deserve anyone’s money. I don’t care how good he is.
I saw way to many kids and their parents who only cared about winning continue to train with him. What did that teach your children? Sorry, I just can’t forgive what he did and I can’t see him as a victim.
Well said RI rider.
Bravo, someone actually knows what they are talking about…
someone should do a headcount of how many horses went down (if you know what I mean)in a particular RI barn between 1981 -1985. It would shock you.
It was a bit more than that – it was a horse he owned personally that he had killed. Not a client’s horse. At least not that time. There was no client to admit to that they’d spent too much money on a horse that wasn’t going to make the grade.
We have a big AA hunter jumper show nearby every winter. A friend leased her barn out one year to a competitor. One of the horses died while she was at work. She said she was suspicious about the way the horse had died and would not be leasing her barn the next year.The horse was insured for big bucks.
Another friend who is also a trainer owned a young prospect for a pony hunter that was too small for western competition. She allowed a trainer with AA connections to take it up to Virginia to be seen by a well respected trainer/dealer.The horse was then left there without the owner’s permission for about a month. We were scrambling around trying to find a shipper to get the horse. Finally the hunter pony trainer drove up and got the horse.
I rode/worked for Paul in 1996, right after all of the drama had unfolded. Even then he was ashamed of what he had done, and wished that he could undo what had happened. I learned more from him in 3 weeks there than I did at 3 years riding in Maryland where I live. He is extremely talented horse trainer, and I wish I 1. had the money to ride with him, and 2. lived near Rhode Island so it could be possible.
This is extremely well written and I felt a lot of the same feelings when I first walked into that barn and new I was out priced, but I had more desire to actually RIDE then a number of those girls.
I worked for Acres Wild for one summer after I graduated high school. For a kid coming from a 4-H program, it was quite the change…
I appreciate that the blogger took the time to express her perspective, because I honestly had no idea what to make of the whole place when I was there (and at 18, my brain hardly functioned at that level anyway….) For everyone who [B]is not[/B] a ‘player’ at the highest levels, but wants to ‘make their way’ in the horse world, these types of situations are facts of life.
You spend a disappointing amount of your energy trying to figure out how to deal with them.
I wouldn’t mind more input from people who have dealt with difficult issues in the horse industry.
I find it amazing that through all these conversations at
acking peoples morality in the horse industry no one has even touched upon the methods used to get the majority of these horses to the ring. Show jumpers hunters dressage… All these horses are pushed to their limmit mentally and
physically and when ‘we’ ( we in my opinion includes everyone grooms, riders, vets, sponsors, poney moms, spectators, anyone who has a clue and turns a blind eye) need more from our horses and resort to the unmentionable… drugs, poling, whips, burns, electic spurs, hot wires etc, are we any better then the person who holds the pole, or inflicts the torture or electricutes the horse. It makes me totally ill to think of what many of these horses endure for their people to get to the big ring or to be financially beneficial to dealors and trainors, but what is even more saddening is that everyone sits here passing judgement on others when likely they have at some point looked the other way.
O.K.!!!! Has anyone ever heard of redemption? Just about everyone else involved in that horrible crime has been “forgiven”. I have had the honor of (on the very smallest of scales!) taking lessons from Paul and he is a true gentleman and horseman. I’m not some starstruck rich kid—Middle American and 59 years old. He has paid for his horrible mistake so let’s move on.
This was a well-written article.
I grew up in the hunter world in the late 80s/early 90s and knew many people who rode with Paul. I also saw him at the shows. Honestly, I do not think he – or many of the others – should be around horses at all, let alone be paid to train them. I find it so ironic that these people supposedly profess to “love” horses when in fact they care only about the glory. I remember seeing Paul and other trainers out in the indoors during the wee hours of the mornings and hearing the cracks of horses’ legs when the poled them after rubbing a fence. I also saw another horse whipped in the eye when the trainer misjudged a distance and the horse knocked down a pole. That horse nearly lost an eye that day. Disgusting.
I also cannot fathom the thought of ever riding with someone who undeniably had a horse killed. I too am curious to know how many horses at Acres Wild “died” during its heyday…
I had a fancy but hot TB as a junior, so obviously the trainer wanted me to sell the horse and get something “push button.” They do not care about teaching you to really ride – they want you to be a passenger and just win, as it makes their job easier and makes them look good. The amount of abuse (both to horses and humans) that I witnessed during those years has forever turned me against the show world. I agree that it was not just Paul – there were, and are, many others who were not caught. It makes me ill that these people profess to “love” horses…and that people are willing to close their eyes to this in order to win. Would they send their children to be taught by a convicted child killer?
as a junior, I rode with a person who worked for Paul. we would see him at shows..he would always make sure the judge knew when it was one of his kids in the ring. I recall one glorious day at Culpepper, when I WON a Maclay class..you could over hear him and his girls saying truly lovely things about me and my horse. including he should go to the glue factory! I was a good rider.. my parents did everything to help me along.. not tons of money – I thank all of my trainers for their love of horses and helping me become who I am. i ride and show today.. in the ETI circut here in California.. we have a blast and there is no pomp and circumstance. Paul is who he is.. he will always have followers and haters. Just love your horse and the sport! They would rather have a carrot and a kiss then a blue ribbon!