From Lipica to Home: A Story of Equine Welfare and True Connection
Posted on June 12, 2025 • 5 min read • 1,043 wordsA powerful contrast between tradition and compassion: our visit to Lipica and life with our rescued horses at home.
A journey from disappointment to hope — from performance to partnership.
Last Sunday, we visited the famous Lipizzaner stud farm in Slovenia. It was a beautiful day and undeniably impressive to see about 400 horses — especially the mares grazing peacefully in open pastures. This is, after all, a breeding center. The stallions, in contrast, were kept indoors for shows and stud purposes.
That scale — and seeing so many horses together in a natural setting — took our breath away.
But the show itself was deeply troubling.
We arrived expecting to witness centuries-old tradition — horses bred for elegance and skill. What we saw was something else entirely.
The performance felt forced. Horses that should move with grace and willingness seemed tense and under pressure. The low point came during the famous “Airs Above the Ground” — dramatic movements where horses rear or leap into the air. One of the three horses had to be physically held in place by two handlers. There was no control — only compliance.
We saw horses ridden with double reins, their heads unnaturally curved forward by added straps. Riders pulled hard, used spurs frequently. This wasn’t classical dressage. It was coercion. If you know horses, you recognize the red flags: stress, discomfort, inadequate training.
Photography was forbidden during the show — something we only realized afterward. That too was telling.
This experience struck a chord because at home, we have three horses who tell a very different story — one of patience, recovery, and true connection.
Boaz came to us from a harsh background. He had been used to drag logs in forestry, wearing iron shoes with spikes. Alone in a small paddock, without companions — a red flag for a herd animal — he was stressed and withdrawn.
We gave him over a year of rest. During that time, he joined me every morning as I walked the dogs. I became his temporary herd.
Eventually, we discovered his passion: cart pulling. Now, when he sees us preparing the harness, he trembles with excitement. That’s what a happy working horse looks like.
Indigo’s transformation is remarkable. She arrived underweight, with damaged hooves and signs of illness. Her branding suggested she came from a breeding facility. We gave her the same long period of rest and care.
Today, she’s a graceful riding horse. But her recovery also exposed hidden truths: the saddle and bit she came with no longer fit. Her body has filled out so healthily that the girth is now too tight, and the bit is too small. These are good problems to have — proof that she’s thriving.
Our third horse is a Haflinger with a summer allergy but the soul of a therapist. Calm, social, and grounded, he brings peace to everyone around him.
And then there’s our mini Shetland — the tiny personality who completes our family.
What sets us apart from many horse owners is our philosophy: we ride bitless. Our daughters (14 and 12) ride using only body language — often even bareback, with just a pad for grip.
This isn’t a stunt. It’s a commitment to authentic connection. Bitless riding demands mutual trust, perfect balance, and subtle cues. Bareback riding means feeling every shift, every breath, every release of tension.
Our daughters are also part of a local riding club where traditional tack — saddles and bits — are required. They’ve learned to move between these two worlds with ease.
Thankfully, the trainer of our eldest daughter is open to bitless, bareback practice during lessons. That flexibility is rare — and important.
This bilingual approach to horsemanship gives our girls something precious: adaptability, perspective, and emotional intelligence.
The Lipizzaner breed has a long and noble history, dating back to 1580 in Lipica, Slovenia. After the fall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Lipizzaner studs spread across the countries of former Yugoslavia — Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia.
Tragically, during the wars of the 1990s, Lipizzaner horses were evacuated across conflict lines. These animals — once symbols of unity and beauty — became victims of human conflict.
Today, those same nations are collaborating to protect the breed’s purity, even as borders and politics continue to divide. The Lipizzaners remain a living heritage that transcends flags.
The contrast between Lipica and our home is clear: horses are not machines for entertainment. They are sentient, intelligent beings who flourish in compassionate environments.
True horsemanship is built on:
Despite our disappointment in Lipica, we choose to end on a hopeful note.
There are people doing things differently. There are young riders — like our daughters — who are growing up with empathy, balance, and clarity.
When Boaz trembles with joy to pull his cart, when Indigo moves freely without bit or tension, when our Haflinger brings calm with just his presence — we see how it should be.
Horses deserve partners, not masters. They deserve understanding, not control. And they deserve shows that celebrate their beauty and intelligence — not exploit it.
The future of riding doesn’t lie in blind tradition. It lies in evolving wisdom — where horse welfare is the foundation.
Our daughters represent that future: young, respectful, and deeply connected to their four-legged companions.
Because real connection doesn’t require a bit — only an open heart and willing hands.
A journey from disappointment to hope — from performance to partnership.
Last Sunday, we visited the famous Lipizzaner stud farm in Slovenia. It was a beautiful day and undeniably impressive to see about 400 horses — especially the mares grazing peacefully in open pastures. This is, after all, a breeding center. The stallions, in contrast, were kept indoors for shows and stud purposes.
That scale — and seeing so many horses together in a natural setting — took our breath away.
But the show itself was deeply troubling.
We arrived expecting to witness centuries-old tradition — horses bred for elegance and skill. What we saw was something else entirely.
The performance felt forced. Horses that should move with grace and willingness seemed tense and under pressure. The low point came during the famous “Airs Above the Ground” — dramatic movements where horses rear or leap into the air. One of the three horses had to be physically held in place by two handlers. There was no control — only compliance.
We saw horses ridden with double reins, their heads unnaturally curved forward by added straps. Riders pulled hard, used spurs frequently. This wasn’t classical dressage. It was coercion. If you know horses, you recognize the red flags: stress, discomfort, inadequate training.
Photography was forbidden during the show — something we only realized afterward. That too was telling.
This experience struck a chord because at home, we have three horses who tell a very different story — one of patience, recovery, and true connection.
Boaz came to us from a harsh background. He had been used to drag logs in forestry, wearing iron shoes with spikes. Alone in a small paddock, without companions — a red flag for a herd animal — he was stressed and withdrawn.
We gave him over a year of rest. During that time, he joined me every morning as I walked the dogs. I became his temporary herd.
Eventually, we discovered his passion: cart pulling. Now, when he sees us preparing the harness, he trembles with excitement. That’s what a happy working horse looks like.
Indigo’s transformation is remarkable. She arrived underweight, with damaged hooves and signs of illness. Her branding suggested she came from a breeding facility. We gave her the same long period of rest and care.
Today, she’s a graceful riding horse. But her recovery also exposed hidden truths: the saddle and bit she came with no longer fit. Her body has filled out so healthily that the girth is now too tight, and the bit is too small. These are good problems to have — proof that she’s thriving.
Our third horse is a Haflinger with a summer allergy but the soul of a therapist. Calm, social, and grounded, he brings peace to everyone around him.
And then there’s our mini Shetland — the tiny personality who completes our family.
What sets us apart from many horse owners is our philosophy: we ride bitless. Our daughters (14 and 12) ride using only body language — often even bareback, with just a pad for grip.
This isn’t a stunt. It’s a commitment to authentic connection. Bitless riding demands mutual trust, perfect balance, and subtle cues. Bareback riding means feeling every shift, every breath, every release of tension.
Our daughters are also part of a local riding club where traditional tack — saddles and bits — are required. They’ve learned to move between these two worlds with ease.
Thankfully, the trainer of our eldest daughter is open to bitless, bareback practice during lessons. That flexibility is rare — and important.
This bilingual approach to horsemanship gives our girls something precious: adaptability, perspective, and emotional intelligence.
The Lipizzaner breed has a long and noble history, dating back to 1580 in Lipica, Slovenia. After the fall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Lipizzaner studs spread across the countries of former Yugoslavia — Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia.
Tragically, during the wars of the 1990s, Lipizzaner horses were evacuated across conflict lines. These animals — once symbols of unity and beauty — became victims of human conflict.
Today, those same nations are collaborating to protect the breed’s purity, even as borders and politics continue to divide. The Lipizzaners remain a living heritage that transcends flags.
The contrast between Lipica and our home is clear: horses are not machines for entertainment. They are sentient, intelligent beings who flourish in compassionate environments.
True horsemanship is built on:
Despite our disappointment in Lipica, we choose to end on a hopeful note.
There are people doing things differently. There are young riders — like our daughters — who are growing up with empathy, balance, and clarity.
When Boaz trembles with joy to pull his cart, when Indigo moves freely without bit or tension, when our Haflinger brings calm with just his presence — we see how it should be.
Horses deserve partners, not masters. They deserve understanding, not control. And they deserve shows that celebrate their beauty and intelligence — not exploit it.
The future of riding doesn’t lie in blind tradition. It lies in evolving wisdom — where horse welfare is the foundation.
Our daughters represent that future: young, respectful, and deeply connected to their four-legged companions.
Because real connection doesn’t require a bit — only an open heart and willing hands.