Why Tessaloo?
People ask me why my business has such a funny name. I’m a holistic veterinarian, but that isn’t obvious, is it? You got the short answer [here], but if you want more of the story, read on. Animals have been my most steadfast friends, greatest teachers, and trusted guides. My earliest memories are the times I spent with Ralph, the silver Standard Poodle who was my first best friend. We grew up together, though his puppyhood sped by a lot faster than my infancy. Ah, dogs - why do they live so fast?!
Let’s fast forward through 20 years. While we kept dogs and other pets, horse ownership was out of reach. I fostered my love for these amazing creatures by taking riding lessons when possible. I’d spend whole days and weekends at the barn, if I could get a ride, or borrow the car to drive there. It was never enough! I wanted the opportunity to forge as tight a bond with a horse of my very own, as I had done with the dogs who shared my home. Then I arrived at Cornell Vet College, dream of all dreams, and quickly got a job exercising horses on the high-speed treadmill. That’s where I met Vita, a gorgeous and athletic Standardbred mare. Vita was a research horse, and when we were done collecting data to help other horses, she became mine.
Wait a minute - Vita? That sounds nothing like TessaLoo!
I know, I know. Stay with me. See, Vita was a fantastical creature. Having only experienced humans who sit in a cart behind her, she had no idea why I wanted to sit on her back. Agreeable by nature, she let me ride, and we had fun exploring the forests and trails of New York, and then Kentucky, when I went there for my internship. Vita was my Steady Eddie. Compared to other horses I’ve known, a Big Scary Spook for Vita was barely a deep intake of breath. She’d go anywhere, keeping me safe, snacking on vegetation as she walked. That was our deal - she agreed to bushwhack on the trails, I agreed she could eat whatever she could grab. Miss Vita had a very strong relationship with gravity - meaning, she did not like to jump, even over a small log in our way. She liked to keep at least 2 feet on the ground at any given moment. She preferred symmetry, routine, and organization, and liked to know what to expect out of life.
After graduating vet school, I went to Lexington, Kentucky. I was lucky enough to be selected for a one year internship at the prestigious Rood & Riddle Equine Hospital, back when there was only one clinic (now there are three!). In Kentucky, I met some great people who liked to go fox hunting. Please understand, we weren’t actually “hunting” anything! It was more, fox-chasing (or more commonly, coyote-chasing). In all the hunts I’ve been on, I’ve never once seen a fox or coyote, and neither have most of the people I know. Fox Hunting and Hunter Pacing are ways for us to gather, get dressed up in traditional English riding gear, and go running and jumping over hill and dale on horseback. I borrowed horses from generous friends and had SO much fun out in the field! As a mobile equine veterinarian, I spent a lot of time driving in my truck. I loved the feel of freedom I got when exploring the fields and forests from the saddle. Part of the excitement of Hunter Paces are the natural jumps that are worked into the landscape. This was never going to be Vita’s area of brilliance. She was never going to have fun on a hunt, which is chaotic by nature. I never ask my animals to do things they don’t enjoy, unless I have a very good reason to do so.
“Animals have been my most steadfast friends, greatest teachers, and trusted guides.”
While working in Kentucky, I provided services for ReRun Thoroughbred Adoption. The woman running the farm was enthusiastic for the work she was doing, and told me stories about every mare on the property. Most of the mares were aged, physically used up, and content to live quiet lives of rest and relaxation. Tessa was a 4 year old filly who had been donated by her owner. She was meant to be a racehorse. When he dropped her off, he said, “She’s a nice filly, but she doesn’t want to be a racehorse!” Apparently dissatisfied with racetrack life, Tessa was also not content with the quiet life of retirement. She got herself into all kinds of scrapes while cooking up excitement in her large turnout pasture. She had gotten adopted out once, to a young woman who was thrilled to discover Tessa’s incredible talent for jumping - but returned her due to “dirty tricks” in the ring. The farm manager became insistent that Tessa would love the kind of life I would provide. She begged and she pleaded. She offered to waive the adoption fee, and promised to take her back if things didn’t work out.
Finally, I relented: a free horse with a money-back guarantee - what did I have to lose? Horse people are chuckling right now, and deservedly so. Most of the time, this kind of scenario does not work out well. In this case, though, I won. I won The Jackpot when I agreed to take Miss Tessa home with me.
Our first challenge was getting Tess onto my trailer. She didn’t like the look of it, and refused to climb aboard. As I came to find out in the coming days, weeks, and months, when Tessa didn’t want to do something, she did. Not. Do. It. I returned with a bigger, more open horse van, sedative medications, and many, many treats. With pleading from the ReRun farm manager, coaxing from me, and help from the van driver, finally we got her loaded. I brought her to my friend’s farm, where Vita lived with a small herd of adorable misfits and cute characters in several large pastures of Kentucky bluegrass.
I had gotten her off the van, and into a small paddock, before it hit me: I was never going to get that horse back onto a trailer if I wanted to return her! Hah. Joke’s on me! I brought Vita to the paddock, who was not exactly thrilled with her new role as babysitter, and let everyone settle down. After a few weeks of getting to know each other, I decided it was time to saddle up and see what Tessa thought about giving me a ride around the property. While there were huge, rolling fields and fenced pastures, there was no riding ring. Our only option was The Great Wide Open, and I wondered if I was taking a foolhardy risk. I warned everyone at the farm what I was about to do, and donned all the safety gear I had at my disposal, in case of an unplanned dismount. All I wanted was a nice, quiet walk around the property.
As we began, things were looking good. Tessa was relaxed, curious, and connected to me. Then, from behind us, I heard the sound of hoofbeats. Turning in the saddle, I saw not one, but two horses, cantering towards us, and moving at a fast clip. I tried to signal to the riders that they needed to stop, but instead, they parted ways, planning to run past us on either side! If you know anything about race horses, you know that being in front is in their blood. My sweet Vita would throw a fit if anyone, even my small dog, passed her on the trail. Horses without a racing background still have a strong herd instinct, and want to stay with other horses. Sitting on this young, strong Thoroughbred filly, I prepared to be taken for the ride of my life. I fully expected her to take off at a full gallop in order to keep up with the horses about to pass us at a run.
I took a deep breath as I gently gathered up the reins. The horses approached, and as they drew near, Tess turned to look at one, then the other. Her gaze was curious, relaxed, and gentle. As she followed their hasty departure with her soft eyes, I stared at the back of her head with incredulity. “Don’t you want to run with them?!” I asked her. She turned to eye me curiously, still no hint of excitement or anxiety in any part of her body. Her look communicated clear as a bell, “Where are they going in such a hurry? It’s a pleasant day, aren’t we having a lovely stroll?”
Not a racehorse - indeed.
“When I realized that Tess had a complete and utter lack of desire to race other horses, I understood why her owner had surrendered her. This was my first hint at how adept she was at getting what she wanted out of life.”
The next time I rode, I asked Tessa to trot around the big flat field that served as our “riding ring” at the farm where she and Vita lived. We made a huge circle around the half acre field. As we began the second trip around, Tessa slowed her gait, coming gradually to a stop. She stood quietly, but firmly. I nudged her with my feet - nothing. I nudged a bit harder - no response. I flapped my legs a few times, not hard, making more noise than impact, and Tessa stood, barely moving. Finally, I grabbed the saddle, and flopped both of my legs as widely as I could, like a baby bird learning how to fly, slapping the saddle, and her sides, with a bit more force.
Tessa didn’t move.
She didn’t pin her ears, she didn’t stamp her feet, nor did she swish her tail. She just… stood there. Like a statue. Concerned there might be a problem, I turned to my friends - who were watching with amusement and confusion - and told them I was taking her back to the barn. The moment I asked her to step out of the giant circle, Tessa relaxed. I hadn’t even recognized she was tense, until she softened, and walked comfortably along the edge of the field. Curious, I nudged her with my feet - she moved easily into a gentle trot.
Aha!
Instantly I understood why Tessa had “failed” at both racing and jumping. We humans like to go around in circles with our horses, don’t we? It makes sense for us, because often we are engaging in an activity where there are observers. Making circles keeps us within view of the trainer, the spectators, or the judge. Riding rings have specialized footing, to make it safer for horses (we hope), so we fill these expensive flat ovals and ride around and around inside them.
Tessa thought that going in circles was dull, and so, she refused. As I noted above, I don’t ask my animals to do things they don’t enjoy, without good cause. Since I had no compelling reason to go in circles with Tessa, I agreed we wouldn’t do that anymore. It was kind of a relief, actually. As a mobile veterinarian, I spent many hours in my truck, driving from my home, to the clinic, to farms, back to the clinic, and home again. These were just big, repetitive circles, and it could get mind-numbing. I welcomed adventures in field and forest, and began to suspect that Tessa would enjoy it as much as I did.
This turned out to be absolutely correct! Tessa adored trail riding, and excelled at fox hunting from the very first outing. Jumping was her favorite activity. At home, she was as happy to go out with her buddy Vita as she was to be all alone with me and the dog. She could jump anything I pointed her at, while miraculously keeping me in the saddle as she did it. I’ve never been the world’s best rider, let’s face it - that’s at least partly why I am a veterinarian. For some reason Tessa wanted me with her on these adventures. I know this because she had multiple opportunities to leave me in the dirt. She squandered all but one of these opportunities. We were a team. We continue to be a team.
Many people believe that brute force and intimidation are the ways to dominate animals. Despite the huge size discrepancy between a horse and a human, this attitude persists in the horse world to this day. I suspect that many people are afraid of horses - even experienced horsemen and horsewomen are afraid. There are valid reasons for this, since a horse can kill you accidentally, just by swatting at a fly, or startling at a loud noise. A horse who kicks, bucks, rears, and bites, generally gets treated harshly. Had Tessa demonstrated her reluctance to go in circles by exhibiting physical resistance in these ways, it’s more than likely she would not have ended up with me.
Most people have goals and desires, and horse people are no exception. Horses are hard work, and expensive to maintain, so it’s natural that we want something in exchange for that time and money. Most goals with horses, in the US at any rate, center around activities that take place in a circle. It’s just an interesting fact of equine sports. There aren’t many places that a horse like Tessa, with her need for adventure, but refusal to stay confined to a circle, can end up, and be happy.
“It was pure luck, or divine providence, or some combination of these, that we found each other.”
I learned from Tessa that to get what you want, you must be persistent. Also you must be very clear on what it is you want. Drama and giant displays of emotion are generally a waste of energy, and may produce results you don’t anticipate or enjoy. Sharing a joyful experience multiplies the joy exponentially, and the more you share, the better it gets! I have many more Tessa stories. If you enjoy what I’ve shared so far, please let me know.
