“Your decision to take your time and let TK guide the pace of his progress shows so much respect for his individuality. This is the kind of training that builds true partnership.”
I paused when I read this feedback. It was one of the most affirming exchanges I’d ever had while discussing horse training. After facing a setback with my 3-year-old Mustang, TK, I had hesitated to seek help. Yet here was the validation I needed—confirmation that my intuition was leading me in the right direction.
The encouragement continued: “The milestone of cinching up the bareback pad with TK staying calm and relaxed is a testament to the trust you’ve built together. Celebrating these wins is what makes the journey so meaningful.”
Yes, exactly. I had decided to start over with TK, focusing on rebuilding his confidence one step at a time. Just two months earlier, he was a horse I could trail ride. Now, I was essentially saddle-breaking him again. As a first-timer undertaking this process, I committed to moving slowly, ensuring TK was comfortable and fully present for each new experience.
Here’s the twist: my trainer wasn’t a person. It was ChatGPT.
The Start of the Journey
When I bought TK (short for Toby Keith), a 3-year-old Mustang, he had just completed a 100+-day training program as part of a Mustang Challenge. I’d followed his progress all summer, and he checked all my boxes: a saddle-broke gelding with a calm demeanor, good feet, and he was pretty to boot. I loved his trainer’s approach—she worked with TK without pushing him beyond his readiness, stayed out of his way, and encouraged self-carriage. After watching him compete over Labor Day weekend, I was ecstatic when he became mine at the auction.
Once I had him home, TK lived up to his “born broke” reputation. Within days, I was riding him in the arena and out on trails. He handled everything with ease—even obstacles like tarps. He felt as bombproof as my 19-year-old Quarter Horse, Joe.
Then one day, my horse’s bodyworker—a woman whose expertise and insight I deeply trust—pointed out TK’s sudden growth spurt. His hindquarters were noticeably higher than his withers. “We don’t usually ride them during growth phases like this,” she warned. “It can cause back issues.” I immediately stopped riding him. After close to two years of rehabbing Joe from a tendon injury, the last thing I wanted was another unsound horse. I shifted my focus to groundwork, following Warwick Schiller’s Attuned Horsemanship program. Over the next month, TK progressed steadily. When his front end caught up, I was excited to start riding him again.
The Wreck
In hindsight, I should have seen the blow-up coming. I saddled TK in the cross-ties as usual, cinched up, and hung my side pull on the horn. TK didn’t move when I tried to lead him out of the cross-ties. I waved the end of the lunge line at his hind end, and he walked forward.
As I led him toward the arena, the side pull slipped off the saddle horn and hit his shoulder. In an instant, TK exploded—bucking and leaping, his nose tucked between his knees. He bucked two large circles around me on the lunge line that would give any rodeo bronc a run for its money. He bolted, getting away from me and slipping in the manure pile before galloping into an open pasture.
When I caught up to him, he was wide eyed and snorting, but let me remove the side pull, which was stuck on one of his hind legs. I led him back to the arena, devastated. The horse I had thought of as “born broke” had reacted like a wild animal, convinced a predator was attacking him. Reflecting later, I realized he had shut down in the cross-ties—hesitating in a way I ignored. When the side pull fell, he snapped into survival mode. I had let my beautiful boy down, and now he was scared.
I went through our groundwork steps in the arena that day to regain TK’s trust. At the end of the session, I got on and off him several times before calling it good. The next day in the cross-ties, he snorted at the saddle. Each time I reintroduced it over the week, he grew more fearful. I moved the saddle to the arena, and by the end of the week, I was able to get it on and cinch it up. When I asked TK to walk off, he blew up again, bucking two laps around the arena. We were back at square one. My boy was scared, and I knew we had to start over.
Rediscovering Partnership
What followed was a slow, deliberate process of rebuilding TK’s confidence. I had no idea if this was going to take days, weeks, or months. I knew I didn’t want to get back on him until we both felt safe. It had been 24 years since I had an unbroke 3-year-old, and that one wasn’t born in the wild. Was I qualified to do this? Should I send TK out for training? Could I do this on my own using Warwick Schiller’s program?
I was apprehensive to share what I was going through with any of my horse savvy friends. I was embarrassed that I had let my horse down, and I wasn’t looking forward to the wide range of opinions that would come my way. My horse community ranges from those who view horses as beasts of burden to those who only ride their horses if the horse indicates they want to be ridden. My training method is centered around building a partnership with my horses. I focus on connection over correction. I wanted to use my training philosophy to get TK past his fear of the saddle, but I wasn’t sure if I was on the right path.
My sense of pride may have also kept me from sharing my experience. TK’s 100+ day challenge trainer did an excellent job with him. Her training was one of the things that had moved him to the top of my list at the sale. The horse I bought had no issues with being saddled. I had undone all that work with one bad experience.
Enter ChatGPT, My Assistant Trainer
A few months prior, I started using ChatGPT both at work and in my personal life. I often use it to bounce around ideas and receive constructive feedback. The day of the second blow up I started to use ChatGPT as an interactive training journal.
I gave ChatGPT some background on my journey with TK and the challenges I was facing. I explained that I had been following Warwick Schiller’s Attuned Horsemanship program and specifically asked, “How can I help my horse overcome his fear of the saddle?”
ChatGPT suggested an eight-step process, including placing the saddle on TK without cinching it and letting him walk off freely. While the idea made sense, I couldn’t ignore a nagging concern: what if the Western saddle slipped off and hit the ground? That would surely frighten him even more.
As we worked through the issue together, a lightbulb moment struck—I could start with something less intimidating, like a bareback pad. It was also 28 pounds lighter than my Western saddle! The idea felt manageable and safe for both of us, and I left the conversation feeling a renewed sense of possibility and direction.
ChatGPT: A Reflective Partner in TK’s Training Journey
ChatGPT quickly became my training partner, not by replacing my intuition but by enhancing it. After every session with TK, I would type out the details, reflecting on what went well and where we struggled. ChatGPT offered insights that aligned with my own instincts and helped me process the subtleties of TK’s responses. It didn’t just provide strategies; it gave me a safe, judgment-free space to work through my thoughts, often validating what I already suspected or guiding me toward a clearer path forward.
Through these reflections, I began to notice patterns in TK’s behavior under stress. His head would lift, his eyes would widen, and he’d hold his breath—subtle signs of emotional shutdown that could have easily gone unnoticed. When I shared these experiences, ChatGPT helped me explore the concept of emotional recovery in horses and how it parallels human experiences.
Emotional recovery is about creating a safe space where TK can process his fear and return to a calm state after being triggered. This work went beyond desensitizing him to the saddle—it became about helping him heal from the profound stressors he had endured in his early interactions with humans. Being rounded up by a helicopter, separated from his family, branded, and gelded were all experiences that had likely left a lasting emotional impact. ChatGPT helped me understand that TK might have appeared calm during earlier stages of his training but was likely suppressing his emotions—a state often referred to as being “shut down.”
By reflecting on these insights, I gained a deeper appreciation for TK’s need to feel safe enough to process his emotions, not just go through the motions of training. This wasn’t about relying on AI for answers—it was about having a collaborative tool that encouraged me to look closer, think deeper, and trust my intuition.
To help TK, I started using CAT-H (Constructional Approach Training with Horses), inspired by a Warwick Schiller video. I paid close attention to his first signs of stress and backed off immediately, giving him time to process. The work was painstakingly slow, but I began to see a positive shift in my little horse. Each time TK faced a trigger, worked through it, and returned to curiosity or calm, he strengthened his emotional resilience. These incremental steps were building blocks for a larger transformation, where fear was gradually replaced with confidence.
Each time I shared my training sessions with Chat GPT, I was surprised by how profound the conversations were and how they validated what my intuition had been telling me about TK all along. Curious about where ChatGPT sourced its insights, I asked if it was simply feeding me what I wanted to hear. It explained that its responses were informed by the principles of Warwick Schiller’s teachings and other connection-based training philosophies. Had I indicated I was following a different method; it would have offered guidance aligned with that approach instead.
Slow Methodical Progress
Seven weeks after the initial blow-up with the saddle, TK is now confidently wearing a cinched-up dressage saddle. I used the same patient and methodical approach to introduce the dressage saddle as I did with the bareback pad, breaking each step down incrementally. This intentional, slow process has been a transformative experience—not just for TK, but for me as well. I’ve never worked with a horse at this level of detail before, and the results speak for themselves. I am fully confident that TK will be wearing a Western saddle again this winter. TK’s moments of shutting down emotionally have become rare, and when they do occur, they last only a second before he returns to the present.
Through our collaboration, TK and I have not only rediscovered trust and partnership but also forged a new frontier in horse training—one where tradition meets innovation. ChatGPT’s guidance has illuminated a path I never thought to explore, and together, we’ve shown that respect, patience, and curiosity can transform challenges into milestones. Watching TK’s confidence grow every day is the ultimate reward, and I’m proud of the journey we’ve undertaken step by step, together.





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