BoJack Horseman

The sixth season of BoJack Horseman has just arrived. It’s a story about a horse… man. 

Season 6 is going to be the last season of the masterpiece. It really makes you think when you watch BoJack Horseman. It makes you think about your life, it shows how BoJack lives in all of us.

Creating a connection between the audience and the characters is, I believe, a prime goal for the shows. Why else would we watch it, just to see strangers suffer?

However, there is more to it. There is something about BoJack Horseman that haunts you. Some say it’s the Nihilism, to that, I partly agree. But what if life is indeed meaningless? Then it wouldn’t be Nihilism at all. It would just be… life.

BoJack Horseman is not just a show. It may be the most realistic fiction there is, and that’s why we love it. We savor the realism in the story of BoJack Horseman, and suffer for it.

I hope for BoJack to get a happy ending, and for all of us, too.

Photo credit:

The Realization of Equestrian

Sometimes things don’t go the way we planned.

Over the weekend, I went with my school to a Pony Club mega rally for the first show of 2018. I was so excited. I’ve been riding my horse, Time, for weeks in preparation, and every single time I jumped he had been a saint.

This weekend was different. It shattered any self confidence I had in my riding skills when Time threw me off over a simple cross rail in the warm up arena and bruised my back so much that it currently hurts to breathe as I’m sitting here trying to do my homework after waking up at four am every morning this weekend to get to the show grounds.

I had fallen off just the day before when my horse stopped right in front of a jump. Now, I have to admit that it was my fault that I was in two-point way too early, but that’s besides the point. Not a single scratch was on me, and I shook off the dirt from my helmet, got back on, and finished the course I was set out to do.

Photo Credit: Jerry Mohme Photography

However, that was not the case on Saturday. When I hit the ground, I was certain that if I moved even just an inch my body would shatter into pieces and I’d be sent to the hospital in an ambulance. I couldn’t get up for minutes, until I was rolled onto my back, then I stood up, and I slowly walked foot by foot back to my stall without even getting to do that course.

I almost thought I wouldn’t be able to ride the next day either, and that weeks of training would’ve gone to waste. But the next day I ended up getting back on my horse and started jumping, and though my entire body was shaking every time I thought my horse would refuse a jump, we ended up clearing both courses.

But I guess there’s both pain and pleasure in horseback riding. There’s the sense of accomplishment when you jump a new height or when your horse comes to say hi to you and nuzzles his nose into the palm of your hand when he thinks you have treats. But there’s also the hours of pain whenever you fall off or when a horse steps on your foot. There’s the moments of self-degradation whenever you see a person with better position or better clothes, and the constant thoughts that plague your mind thinking that you’ll never be as good as them.

I’m not going to lie and say that my confidence in my jumping is back, because it’s not, and I don’t think it will be anytime soon (or, at least, until all the bruises go away), but it was a learning experience to some extent.

I’m going to fall off, and probably more times than I wish, and I’ll get back up, and fall and get back up, and that’ll keep happening, but I’ll still continue riding until I no longer can.

Fighting the Fear

My school has a equestrian program, which I wanted to take advantage of. One year ago, I tried it out for a season. Since my roommate at the time was a rider, I was very excited to learn this sport.

It started out well – I was loving my horse and the sport, but then things started changing. Espada, the horse I was riding, started acting wild, and because I was a beginner, I couldn’t stop his behavior. Espada would kick other horses while I was on him and would try to scare me by jumping suddenly. On the last day of the season, Espada jumped with his back feet and started running. I pulled on him and was able to stop him, and luckily I didn’t fall. But that sudden act brought me to tears. After that, I couldn’t even look at the barn, because I would feel too scared.

Horse with girl

Photo Credit: Evelyn Brokering

I wanted to fight my fear, and I wanted to love horses like my roommate did, so this year I tried equestrian again. The first day I was too scared to walk toward the horse alone. Taking small steps each day, I pushed myself to do something I was afraid of. Day by day, I noticed I was becoming more comfortable around horses.

Now it’s been two months since I started riding again, and I no longer have any fear– I am able to walk and canter by myself. It’s the best feeling: to conquer a fear instead of letting the fear conquer you.

The 10 Horsey Commandments

(Totally ripping off infamousdolphin)

Hello all equestrians and non-equestrians alike.

To the equestrians; these are some rules and/or commandments that I am very sure you follow already. If you do not (guilty as charged), then you should start following them.

To the non-equestrians; I’d like to, hopefully, open a little door to the world of the horse people. Some say we’re a different species. I sure have been called that before.

1. If thy horse poops in the barn isle thou shalt CLEAN IT UP
2. If thy horse is a sporadic nutball in the arena thou must LUNGE THY HORSE
3. If thou aren’t wearing tough leather boots prepare to have thy toes RIPPED OFF by thy horse
4. Cleaning thy horse’s hooves before riding is a MUST
5. If thy horse bites you BITE IT BACK
6. If thou falls off thy horse ye must GET BACK ON
7. Horses will try to buck thee off so thou must EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED
8. Unless thou wants to clean thy stall twice, cleaning thy stall BEFORE LEAVING is the wise choice
9. If thou feeds another’s horse expect to be SHOWERED WITH FLIES
10. Saddle soap and saddle oil are the best smells ever


It’s a horse. Can you guess what colors plague their minds the most? It’s black. The dark color that overpowers all, that can swallow up anything lighter that dares to power through.

This horse is all black, smoking, shimmering, not hidden like Conscience but not sharp like Shadow. Her socks are grey, her hooves pulse, she plods along, following me, aiding me. Her name is Nightmare but she is Hope. She is Beauty. She is Power.

She, in her huge Gypsy form, is difficult to see. Hope shows up the least and they can see no Beauty in this world. This world is destroyed. Corrupted. Shattered. Gods know what plans the world has for lowly humans.

Nightmare lives on. She, in her huge Gypsy form, fights Shadow and Conscience and will never let Hope and Beauty die. Her Power is immense, never weakening, but one day she will die.

She feeds on Hope and Beauty, and they are on their way to extinction. The good powers of this world, the bright sunlight, the clear winds, are being swallowed by the seething black haze that eats all.

Nightmare has left me and begins to die.

Death by Bucking Horse

There was this one horse. His name was Houdini, and he was solid, pure black. I had always wanted to ride Houdini but I was always told that my skill levels weren’t high enough, or that he was too “green.” When I got to riding Layla and a pony called Dixie my mind wandered away from Houdini.

When sophomore year came around, I had first seen Houdini during my freshman year, I saw much less of Houdini, but occasionally I would still see him around. I wasn’t sure where he went at all, but I slightly remember someone telling me that he was either out in pasture or being trained by someone else.

This year, my junior year, he’s back, and I continued to ask to ride him. For two months I got continuous no’s but with promises of “wait until we ride him for a week,” or, “once you’re able to keep your back straight.” I kinda gave up hope by the second month, really.

Winter sports started, and the current horse I was riding was needed by another rider. I remember walking into the barn and then being jumped upon by an instructor. “I have exciting news for you!” she said. For some reason I had literally no idea what she would have said. “We’re gonna put you on Houdini!”

Internally I was jumping up and down like a little girl who had finally gotten a pony for her birthday, but on the outside I just took a couple breaths and said “wwwwwoooooooowwww oh thank gods yes finally…”

Houdini was still extremely green and didn’t seem to understand how large he was. He would swing his head around and try to cuddle (I think) me but would end up knocking me into a wall or the gate. I learned how to move quickly and duck away within the first few days.

We believe that Houdini is part Friesian – Royal Friesian Horse, that is. They look like cousins of Gypsy Horses, and they’re a stunning breed. The way they walk, trot, and gallop is extremely upright and almost stiff, like every step they take is deliberate. In my mind I called them the “soldier horse” because they were so methodical with their steps.

Houdini could hardly walk in a straight line. Seriously, I’d try to keep him on the rail and he’d end up either running into it or turning away from it. He actually ran me into a jump pole once, but he’s learning, I think.

A skill that all riders must know is how to lunge a horse. The gist of it is basically to chase a horse around a little round pen while giving them instructions such as “trot” or “canter.” Houdini would trot and canter for a few circles, buck in my direction a few times, then stop completely and simply stare at me.

What I didn’t understand was what he didn’t understand. He followed my instructions perfectly, to walk, to trot, to canter, yet he would always stop a few minutes in and stand square in front of me, unmoving. Even when I tapped him with our bright, neon-orange whip he would stare at me like “what are you doing I did not sign up for this.”

Oh, and he bucks. Like, a lot. If I keep the reins a little too long at the trot he lowers his head and starts bucking. Or that’s the official term, what Houdini does is more like pronking. Usually done by antelopes, pronking is when they leap up into the air with an arched back and stiff legs.

Yeah, that’s what Houdini does. In an hour he pronks about 4 times and I have yet to fall off. There was one pronk, this one was more like a rodeo buck, where I crash-landed on the saddle and hit my knee on something hard. That was two days ago and I still have a massive yellow bruise.

(Mien gott look at that mane)

I call Houdini my Butternut Squash.

Squash because he likes to squash me against the walls of the stall.

Butter because his coat gleams like melted butter.

And nut because he’s the nuttiest horse I may ever ride.

My Princess

The first horse I rode in OVS was Urbino. He was an old horse, mainly brown, and very tall. I constantly struggled to put his bit on, as he would always lift his head up above the reach of my arms. I’m 5’2 now. I was probably 5’1 or 5’0 two years ago, so I asked to switch horses that would either work with me better or was a tad shorter.

I switched horses maybe one or two more times before settling for Layla. I believe she was at least part Gypsy, tall, sturdy, and one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen. Her coat and mane was black and white while her tail was pure black. She was a massive horse, and had not been ridden a lot, so she was quite stubborn and didn’t quite like having the bit put in.

To my great dismay she would also lift her head up above arms reach, and for a while I got my taller friends to help me bit her. Being that short and weak was unbelievably frustrating.

Layla was a complete Princess, for she knew how tall and beautiful she was. The way she walked, the way she swayed when she lifted her feet up, made it seem like she was dancing down a catwalk.

Slowly she began to respect me, and after a while she seemed to understand that I was short and that I needed a little help when brushing her mane and putting her bit on. On the days where she felt good she would lower her head for me and on the days she seemed more stubborn she’d ignore me and let me struggle on my tiptoes.

She was pretty darn lazy, plodding along with her feet picked up high. A whip helped, but I had to teach her that she had to walk at a relatively quick pace and not hang her head. She learned quickly and was probably my smoothest ride ever.

I rode Layla for about a year and then moved on to different horses, but I visit her every day to brush out her mane and maybe give her a mint or a handful of grains. When I leave the barn I always look back, and she’ll always watch me leave with an inquisitive look on her face.

I always wonder what horses do all day, but maybe horses wonder what humans do all day too.

Just a Little Bit

I’ll consider myself an avid rider for the moment. The first time I rode a horse was when my trainer plucked me off the ground, from atop a tall horse mind you, and plunked me down onto said horse. He then proceeded to gallop 6467, the horse’s racing name and number, at full speed.

It was exhilarating and supposedly terrifying too, though I don’t recall feeling any fear. I remember my eyes tearing up due to the wind and the world around me reduced to blurry shapes. My heart was beating to the sound of stomping hooves.

I rode and jumped Tai Yan, sun in Chinese, for two years before stopping due to health reasons.

One of the first things I saw upon arriving at OVS was an Equestrian coach, sitting on a horse, and watching the cars go by.

The first day of sports I nearly hurtled myself into the barn to reunite with equine life.

After two more years riding horses and training ponies I’d say I’m quite familiar with equine creatures, big or small.

Little Bit was a dwarf miniature horse.

Dwarf. Miniature. Horse.



During camp I finally got a chance to explore the Back Pastures. Malachi, the Dromedary Camel, was the focal point of the back pastures, mooing and grunting and giving icky sloppy kisses.

After escaping Malachi I look around and practically trip over what I thought was a baby pony.

“Hey Little Bit!” our counselor croons, bending down to pet the creature. “This is Little Bit, our Dwarf Miniature Horse!”


I stood gaping for a full minute trying to make sense of the little horse.

I did not understand how horses could be dwarf miniatures.

I felt like I had grown six feet because we were surrounded by miniature horses and they were so tiny. Little Bit dwarfed them all though and I was just speechless because it felt like Mother Nature bungee-jumped in front of my face waving a flag and said “NOPE”.

But not in the bad way. Walking around the mini-horses was an adorable experience but every second of it I was thinking “what is going on what is happening where am I what world is this.”

I’m still slightly in shock and denial.

Small Things Lover.

I am always obsessed with the small things.

According to Guinness World Records, the smallest horse in the world is a horse named Tamberlina of the U.S. state of Missouri.

However, this little guy may soon take its place. Born in April 2010, in Barnstead, New Hampshire, the three-day old pinto stallion, Einstein, is just 14 inches high and weighs only an incredible 6lbs.

Dr Rachel Wagner, Einstein’s co-owner, claims that “the Guinness Book of Records lists the smallest newborn horse as weighing just 9lbs.”

From Oprah to travelling across the U.S. it has certainly been an eventful first year for Einstein, the world’s smallest stallion, as he approaches his birthday.

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The might of Horses

Today, I finally did something that I have been wanting to do at OVS for almost a year. I went Horse Back riding.

Upon arriving I was told I would be riding Lexi, the gentlest and easiest of all the horses.  That’s good of course, except she is HUGE.  Well not huge but pretty big.

While in the stall with the horse, brushing it and picking its hooves it really donned on me as to how big they are.  Although we claim to control them once you are on them or in the stalls with them, they can do whatever they want and you can’t stop them.

Once in the Arena and all mounted up it was time to walk.  Luckily Lexi IS the gentlest horse there so with a “HIGH HO SILVER AWAYYY” we were off at slow walk.

There really is something special about horse back riding.  For one only a hundred years ago or so they were the only means of fast transportation, and back then everyone knew how to ride.  Now its such a small part of our lives its quite sad.

It is wonderful that OVS still puts so much time and consideration into these powerful animals and offers such an incredible program to learn how to ride.