Dear Prudence,
My husband of five years (together for seven) has a family place in the country where we spend most weekends, and I often invite my friends and family. This has been a dream come true because I’ve finally been able to return to horseback riding, after taking lessons for several years as a kid but having to give it up for financial reasons. Along with a flock of chickens, a few peacocks, and a rescue pig, our farmlet is home to my two horses. “Selena,” my first horse, whom I’ve had for about siz years, is a 20-year-old, 15.3 hand Thoroughbred mare weighing just over 1,000 pounds. “Apollo,” my new horse, whom I’ve only had five months, is a 6-year-old, 17.2 hand warmblood gelding weighing about 1,400 pounds. Selena is quiet and gentle enough that I can lead her around with a complete beginner or let them ride her in the round pen with supervision. Apollo is a huge sweetheart but still somewhat green, energetic, a bit of a goofball, and needs at least an intermediate rider. I don’t let anyone on him but myself or my trainer—I can too easily see him sensing this person doesn’t know what they’re doing, tossing them playfully, but forcefully and from a great height, into the dirt, and bounding away, kicking his heels up and farting in glee.
So recently, my parents and sister visited us in the country, along with my sister’s new girlfriend “Faye,” whom I hadn’t met before. My sister only recently came out to our parents (I had known for much longer) and they’re a bit awkwardly overeager to demonstrate their liberal bona fides by embracing whoever she chooses to date.
Faye is a person of size. She wanted to ride a horse. She claimed to have quite a bit of riding experience, but admitted it was many years ago, and also probably (although she did not admit this) many pounds ago. She wouldn’t tell me her weight, but she was significantly bigger than a close friend of mine about her height who weighs around 300. I told her, and showed multiple citations online, that a horse can be injured by being forced to carry more than 20 percent of its own weight. For Selena this is about 200 pounds, which has not been an issue with anyone who’s been interested in riding her previously. So Faye asked if she could ride the big horse. I explained that, while Apollo is perfectly sweet and huggy on the ground, he is (A) not a beginner-safe horse like Selena, and (B) even if he was, his weight limit would still be about 280 pounds, which I couldn’t verify she met.
Faye got mad. My sister got mad. Our parents got mad. I got upset that I was being asked to put Selena—who, as the first horse I’ve ever owned or competed on, I have a strong bond with and a lifelong commitment to—at serious risk by plopping a third or more of her body weight on her elderly spine. My husband got mad that they were upsetting me, and invited them all to leave. They left. I haven’t spoken with any of them since. First of all, how could I have handled this better? Second of all, how can I make up and apologize for all the unpleasantness, while making it clear that I’m not apologizing for refusing to endanger and will never endanger my horses’ welfare?
— Weighing the Issue