BY LAUREN MAULDIN
Owning a gray horse is a journey—a journey where your fingers are going to be stained purple for longer than you ever thought. Just like the five stages of grief are not linear, the stages of gray can go jump around as well. Here’s what to expect when those stunning dapples start to morph into a living Rorschach test.
1. Denial
My dark gray horse is so beautiful! He really doesn’t show that much dirt. Maybe he’s naturally clean? Maybe I’ve been blessed by the unicorn gods. Look at those dapples shimmer in the sun. People exaggerate—this gray thing is totally manageable. Plus, he’s going to stay dark way longer than those other grays—I just know it.
2. Anger
Okay, what the actual manure. I cannot keep up. Did he roll during the five seconds I turned my back? WHY is there poop in his mane? How does a tail even get that shade of green? I used to think gray horses were elegant, now I think they’re just nature’s practical joke. I didn’t sign up for equine camouflage. I don’t spend this long on my own hair!
3. Bargaining
I will do anything to keep these dapples. This horse is a work of art. I will buy every shimmer-enhancing shampoo on the market. I will feed a high-end supplement that costs way more than my coffee budget. I will mix homemade coat sprays like a mad scientist. Just let me keep these dapples a little longer… please.
4. Depression
The dapples are gone. Replaced by mud. Grass. Poop. Every shade of filth. I see pictures from last summer and sigh deeply. His coat has the luster of a paper bag left in the rain. I don’t even try anymore. He is never clean. I have six shampoos and a conditioner hierarchy None of it matters. I’ve never met a horse that liked to sleep in his poop more than this one. He makes a comfy poop pillow. This is my life now.
5. Acceptance
My beautiful snow angel. Sure, he’s gonna look scruffy at home but there’s no cleaner horse at the show (mostly because I also now own white horse body spray paint). In the brief moments that he’s clean, he’s breathtaking. Those rare, gleaming moments in the ring make all the stains, the shampoos, and the existential grooming crises worth it. He’s still a mess… but he’s my mess, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.
