What Your Lazy Horse is Trying to Tell You

“He’s just being lazy!” The instructor said, smacking the trotting horse on the rump. “Come on, canter!” 

I was watching my friend in a lesson, her first time on a horse in 20 years. She was bouncing like mad, struggling to stay in the saddle as the quarter horse gelding trotted underneath her. I winced, knowing this wasn’t fun for either of them. She had been tooling around on the horse without much instruction, pointing him around the ring at a pleasant walk. Then, the trainer started them trotting and things started falling apart. My friend’s seat, which was passable at a walk, was chaotic at the bouncier gait. Her hands were flying up and down with the horse’s steps and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she shot clean off him. 

“Okay, now let’s try a canter!” 

Canter? Really? 

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. The horse kept jangling my friend around the ring while she tried and failed to get him to pick up the canter. That was when the instructor called him lazy. Even with their intervention, they never got to the canter. 

“He just doesn’t want to work,” the instructor said. 

From where I was sitting, I saw an entirely different story. I saw a horse trying his best, who knew the human on his back was moments away from flying off. “Go faster?” I could hear him thinking, “If I go any faster, she’s gonna fall off!” Despite her hands banging the bit in his mouth and her body slamming the saddle on his spine, he wanted to please. He didn’t stop or buck or balk. 

When we got back into my car, I looked at my friend and said, “That horse isn’t lazy, he’s a damn saint.” 

There are lots of horses who are branded “lazy,” unfairly. My horse is one of them. 

Cowboy’s power move is standing still. I call it going statue mode. He can stand still all day, completely unbothered as you pull his halter, beg, pray, and cry. It doesn’t even matter where you’re going, even if a bucket of food and a pasture of grass awaits him on the other end. It’s the principle for him. 

“He’s so lazy. He just doesn’t want to work!” I was so frustrated. Of all the horses, I got one who wouldn’t even walk on the lead rope. It wasn’t until I heard from people who worked at the barn that I started to think that maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s me. 

“Cowboy? Oh yeah, he’s a doll. No, I have no problem leading him out of the field.” That’s what the young woman working at my barn told me when I asked. Turns out, everyone else there had the same experience. 

Okay, so the damn horse CAN walk. He just won’t for me. 

That was when I started investigating why. 

I read a LOT of books. When I was starting back into working with horses, Mark Rashid was my favorite. Here’s some of the insights I gained from his book for dealing with “lazy horses.” 

• Horses are wired for survival, not work.

  
  

  As prey animals, horses are always conserving energy in case they need to flee or defend themselves. What we sometimes perceive as laziness is actually self-preservation. They’re not trying to be difficult—they’re just naturally cautious about expending energy without good reason.

• “Lazy” horses aren’t lazy—they’re unconvinced.

  
  

  If your horse seems slow or unmotivated, it may be because they don’t see the task as necessary. For a horse to care about something, they need to believe it matters to you. Your clarity, intention, and consistency are what turn “unimportant” into “worthwhile” in their eyes.

• Clarity is kindness: know your plan.

  
  

  Before asking your horse to do anything, get clear in your own mind:

  
  

  What are we doing?

  
  

  Where are we going?

  
  

  At what speed?

  
  

  Horses read body language fluently. If you’re uncertain, your horse will be too. A confident, consistent horse person gives their horse something safe to follow.

Once I recognized these points and started implementing them in my work with Cowboy, we experienced a seismic shift in our relationship. Now, we can head into the ring and walk, trot, canter with ease. He speeds up and slows down with barely any pressure from me. He’ll even pop over a few cross rails, an impressive feat for a 21 year old paint with no previous jumping experience. 

The truth is, most “lazy” horses aren’t lazy at all—they’re confused, cautious, or quietly trying to take care of their rider. What we interpret as resistance is often a reflection of our own lack of clarity or confidence. Once we start showing up with a clear plan, calm presence, and a willingness to listen, our horses respond in kind. Cowboy taught me that. And if you’re feeling stuck, frustrated, or just unsure how to move forward with your own horse, you’re not alone. There’s always more to learn, and often the biggest breakthroughs come when we stop blaming and start understanding. I’d love to help you get there. Reach out anytime.

If you can relate to the experience of dealing with a “lazy horse” and need help moving past it, fill out our contact form or email me at rachael@wellequestrians.com.