10/29/2025
Tei’s Story
I met Tei the day after he was born. He was a Thoroughbred c**t, bred to race but he came into the world blind. His owner, focused only on racing, wanted him put down right away. Thankfully, my boss at the time convinced him otherwise.
When Tei’s owner later began sending his yearlings off for training, he decided he no longer wanted to keep the blind c**t. My boss knew how much I loved him and offered him to me. I talked it over with Josh, and we decided we could make it work. I didn’t know what our journey would look like, what a blind horse and a young and learning trainer could do together but I knew I loved his sweetness, and that was enough.
Tei wasn’t bothered by his blindness the way most might expect. He moved through the world with quiet curiosity and trust. I started his training slowly, introducing each new experience with the thought “Let’s see how he feels about this!?” I didn’t have expectations just an open heart and a willingness to learn.
That approach gentle, patient, without expectations turned out to be the perfect foundation. I was learning how to train, and he was the best teacher I could have asked for. Because he couldn’t see, I had to rely completely on feel, energy, and connection skills that have shaped the way I work with every horse to this day.
Over time, Tei showed me just how much was possible. We began with a single ground pole. Then a few more. Then canter poles. Eventually, we were jumping courses. His bravery and trust humbled me. I once took him to a show not to win, but just to see what he could do. He didn’t finish a full course (I realized he was used to walking up to each jump first to orient himself), but he gave everything he had. He handled the noise, the crowd, the chaos. I was so proud.
Later, I found out that someone who had seen us that day had taken a photo and written a post about our partnership and that’s really what horse ownership was all about. It meant the world to know that Tei’s spirit had inspired someone else, just as he had inspired me.
We did trail rides together, and even ponied other horses who lacked confidence. Despite his blindness, Tei trusted me completely, and I learned to trust him just as much. He’d hop on the trailer without hesitation, and Josie, Tei, and I would head out on trail adventures together.
When my children came along, Tei became their first ride steady, kind, and endlessly patient. He was the best babysitter any parent could hope for.
As Talisman Equestrian grew, Tei became one of its cornerstones. He taught countless beginners how to ride. His slow, collected trot (I called it his babysitter trot) was so smooth that new riders often found it tricky to post to but as they figured it out he’d carry them with a beautiful forward trot. He was the horse I trusted for every rider’s first canter because even the most unsteady seat could follow his calm, consistent rhythm.
I only a select few students were allowed to jump him, because it was such an act of trust. He had to believe completely in his rider to leave the ground without fully seeing what was in front of him. But for the little ones learning to ride, he’d happily trot over raised poles and give them the thrill of success.
Tei had only one real flaw he hated bugs. They drove him absolutely crazy, and I spent a small fortune on fly sheets trying to keep him comfortable. He lived in a fly mask. I always knew when the first fly was out in spring for some reason it was doing circles around Tei.
Looking back, I can’t help but think what if he had been put down the day he was born? What an incredible loss that would have been. The world would have missed out on his gentle wisdom and patience.
My heart breaks knowing he’s gone, but I’m endlessly grateful for the years we shared all the quiet lessons and beautiful in-betweens. Tei taught me what it truly means to train without expectation to move slowly, listen deeply, and let the horse show you when it’s time to move on.
He also taught me to never underestimate potential. Just because a horse or a person faces challenges doesn’t mean they can’t do great things.
Tei was one in a million. His trust shaped the heart of who I am as a trainer, and his spirit will always be a part of Talisman.
