A troubling trend in rescue today isn’t just outsiders second-guessing decisions—it’s all of us. When you’ve helped hundreds of horses, when you’ve lived through the worst cases and seen patterns repeat, it’s easy to believe you already know the answer. Experience is powerful. But it can also trick us into certainty.
Take Chester - a horse who recently came to Gentle Spirit Horses Rescue in South Dakota. I am the Executive Director and a founder of Gentle Spirit Horses. When we posted his intake videos, we recognized selenium toxicity almost immediately. Living in a high-selenium state, we see it more than most people realize. It took about ten seconds of looking at all four hooves to know. Yet the comments filled with people insisting it was founder, laminitis, or an abscess. Some even declared he should be euthanized.
That reaction is frustrating—but here’s the part we need to admit: rescuers aren’t immune to doing the same thing. Once you’ve walked through enough emergencies, once you’ve watched suffering up close, you can start to see only the worst. Cynicism takes hold. Every horse starts to look doomed. Every case feels like proof that the next disaster is already unfolding.
The truth is, most people—even those in the comments—are not coming from cruelty. They’re coming from fear, from bias, or from a sincere (if misplaced) desire to protect the horse. The same is true of other rescuers. If we assume positive intent, we leave space for dialogue instead of division.
Science and veterinary care evolve only because people are willing to stay curious. Years ago, I questioned the UC Davis Refeeding Protocol. Everything in me wanted to stuff an emaciated horse full of hay—but the protocol called for small, careful meals. It worked. My skepticism gave way to learning, and learning became the standard of care.
Just because you’ve never seen selenium toxicity doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Just because a foal is older than the “accepted” surgery age doesn’t mean recovery is impossible. Just because something has always been done doesn't mean it shouldn't change as science teaches us new lessons. And just because you think you know what suffering looks like doesn’t mean you’re always right.
Rescue requires balance. Blind optimism puts horses at risk. Cynicism leads to unnecessary euthanasia. The only way forward is humility—remembering that experience is valuable, but not infallible.
Bias sneaks in quietly. The trick is learning to notice the warning signs in yourself:
Strong emotional reactions to a photo or video. If you feel instant anger or judgment, pause. Horses deserve thoughtful decisions, not snap conclusions.
Certainty without curiosity. If you hear yourself saying, “I know exactly what this is,” but haven’t asked questions or considered alternatives, it’s time to step back.
Seeing only the worst (or only the best). Cynicism blinds us to possibility. Unrealistic optimism blinds us to risk. Both extremes put horses at risk.
Feeling defensive. If every disagreement feels like a threat, that’s bias talking.
When you notice these signs, treat them like a flashing yellow light: slow down, breathe, and recalibrate. Ask yourself, Am I reacting from fear or from knowledge? Am I assuming intent, or am I listening?
And remember—you don’t have to do this alone. One of the best protections against bias is a team that balances each other out. The cynical voice may notice risks the optimist misses. The hopeful voice may see possibilities the realist has given up on. What matters is honesty, humility, and a willingness to check each other—not out of ego, but out of love for the horses.
That’s leadership. And that’s rescue at its best.
Photo by Afif Ramdhasuma on Unsplash