My horse Dixie came into my life at the end of 2019, when she was 15 and I was 25. She was the subject of decades of my dreams and everything I had ever wanted. She had been out of work for several years prior, so between her relatively low mileage for her age and my fervent desire to do right by her at every step, I was confident that she and I would have plenty of time together to train, show and live my dreams.

And for the past four years, I’ve lived my dreams and then some with her. We’ve shown at first, second and third levels with great success. Dixie helped me achieve new personal best scores at all three levels, with scores to 72% at first level, 70% at second level and 67% at third level. She took me to the biggest venues I had ever competed at, from HITS Saugerties (New York) to the Virginia Horse Center and everywhere in between. We attended three USDF Regional Championships and two Col. Bengt Ljungquist Memorial Championships. Each day for me since November 2019 has been better for the fact that Dixie has been part of it.

The showing fulfilled plenty of my personal aspirations, but it isn’t nearly as meaningful to me as the relationship and bond I’ve forged with my sweet girl. It took several months to gain her trust, but from there, the love only grew. Her personality emerged as she became increasingly comfortable with me. Our relationship translated to a huge increase in harmony and willingness under saddle. We’d frequently spend hours grooming and snuggling and hand grazing, just enjoying each other’s company. I cannot adequately put into words how much she means to me.

Dixie taught me the elusive combination of softness and strength, as well as patience, resilience, tact and grace. She was always fair and patient with me as we moved up the levels and I learned, but she also always held me accountable to do things right. I’m a much more confident and competent rider because of her.

This fall, when I began to bring her back from her break after championship season, she was not herself. She seemed sour and even a bit depressed. She resisted the contact and basic requests to move away from my leg. I gave her the benefit of the doubt of perhaps being stiff and tight from the cold weather post-break, but the issues persisted. I treated her for ulcers. I had her adjusted by the chiropractor and booked her monthly bodywork and PEMF treatments. I did in-hand stretches with her several times a week. I varied her workout schedule to include more longe days and cavaletti work. I had the veterinarian look at her head to toe and got her a course of pentosan and several monthly Legend injections. Some days would be better than others, but the bad days still outweighed the good.

Naturally, I agonized over Dixie’s happiness. My thoughts constantly plagued me as I tried to find the best solution for her. Perhaps it was just seasonal difficulty as sunlight and turnout time had dwindled through the winter? Or maybe she needed a break from work altogether? Or could it be something deeper in her body that I needed more vets to investigate?

Any one of those things could be true, but I also couldn’t shake the thought that maybe Dixie just does not want to do this anymore. The more I thought about it, the more I felt this was the truth. She will be 20 in May, and we have had done so much together over the past four years. My initial goal had been to at least start my scores toward my USDF silver medal with her, and while I think we could go out this spring and manage two 60%-plus fourth level tests, no part of me felt that was fair. We’re so close, but getting those scores is my dream, not Dixie’s. She’s never really told me “no” before, and to ignore her rather clear communication now would be such a breach of the trust and relationship we’ve forged. Dressage is about the partnership, and if one partner is unhappy and unwilling, I don’t want to be a part of it.

I’ve always said that I would continue my training journey with Dixie as long as she was happy, willing and able. I don’t doubt that she’s still physically able, especially given her glowing veterinary reviews and her current body condition and musculature. But happiness and willingness are just as important as ability, if not more so. We’ve been lacking those two crucial pieces for nearly four months now, which gives me my answer loud and clear.

And so Dixie and I open the next chapter of our partnership. At the end of the month, we’ll move to a low-key barn, where we’ll explore new pursuits like trail riding and maybe even some little jumps, which she’s shown a zest for recently. I’m loosely labeling it a semi-retirement situation.

It’s incredibly bittersweet. On one hand, I’m struggling with accepting that one of my very favorite chapters of my life thus far is closing as we step down from competition and training. I’m also struggling with the reminder of Dixie’s advancing age and the not-so-subtle reminder of the finite nature of life.

But on the other hand, I am looking forward to beginning a peaceful, pressure-free chapter with her. We won’t be working toward any real goals except Dixie’s health and happiness. And when she tells me she’s ready to fully retire, I’ll honor that, too. We’ll navigate the chapters of life as they come, with the overarching constants being my love and respect for her and my presence by her side. She’s more than earned it.

Laura Adriaanse is an avid amateur dressage rider and USDF bronze medalist. She has three horses: Dixie Rose, a 20-year-old Hanoverian mare; Solidarity LJS, a 2-year-old Hanoverian gelding; and Change of Heart, a 24-year-old Thoroughbred gelding. She currently resides in Wilmington, Delaware, and works in marketing and communications.