What It’s Really Like Financially to Own a Lesson Barn (A Satire… Kind of)

What It’s Really Like Financially to Own a Lesson Barn (A Satire… Kind of)

By a Very Tired, Very Determined Horse Lady

Note: This is a long read, but I promise there’s humor buried between the tears. And for the record, this satire is not about our small but mighty barn family—y’all are the reason we still have sanity (well… some). This is for the general public who are oblivious to the hardships they can cause small operations like ours.

Let’s set the scene.

We’re 20 years deep into this “dream come true” and lemme tell you, the world is nothing like it was when we first tacked up this operation. We’re a small nonprofit that survives off lesson fees, the occasional donation, and sheer willpower.

Between Athena, Martti, and myself, we put in 14-hour days just to keep this ship sailing. I spend five of those hours just answering messages from folks who—spoiler alert—mostly ghost us.

My ROI on time spent replying to emails? Less than 1%.

My level of exhaustion? NASA hasn’t measured that far out yet.

My reason for continuing? Horsies.

Here’s a taste of what my inbox looks like… every. single. day.

THEM: “How much?”

ME: “Hello! May I ask which program you’re interested in?”

THEM: vanishes like a fart in the wind

THEM: 15 messages deep with enthusiasm, back and forth via text, email, and even a phone call!

ME: “Awesome! Let’s get you scheduled!”

THEM: poof

THEM: “How much to rent a horse?”

US: “I’m sorry, we don’t rent horses.”

THEM: silence, confusion, probable Google review pending

THEM: “I’d love to volunteer!”

ME: “Great! What kind of help are you interested in?”

THEM: “Brushing the horses and riding them for exercise!”

ME: “Ma’am, our horses are lesson horses—they get brushed and exercised all day. We need manual labor.”

THEM: “No thanks.”

ME: cries in wheelbarrow

THEM: “We decided to travel this summer. Can we get a refund for the lessons we pre-paid?”

ME (in my head): “No, Bob. You may not. You literally signed the ‘No Refunds’ policy. With your actual adult human hand.”

THEM: Buys 4-lesson package. Takes 9 weeks to complete it. Ghosts us with no notice.

ME: “Cool cool cool. Definitely didn’t schedule my life around this or anything.”

ME: “Here’s how our billing works: payment due on the 4th lesson, 2 weeks’ notice if discontinuing, otherwise we assume you're continuing and invoice accordingly!”

THEM: “Got it! That sounds great!”

THEM: buys two months of lessons, then on the 4th lesson of package two…

ME: invoices with hope because we are literally out of hay

THEM: ghost harder than Casper

THEM: “I forgot my wallet for this birthday party and don’t have Venmo. I’ll bring cash later today!”

ME: calculating what this party cost us: staff, set-up, supplies, therapy afterward

THEM: you guessed it: ghosted

US: pauses lessons for 8 weeks for our once-wildly-popular summer camps that used to help fund our slow season

AMERICA: economy tanks

FATE: dad dies unexpectedly, leaving us with a mountain of debt

US: frantically opens lessons again, raids the change jar, maxes out the last not-maxed card, says a few prayers

AMERICA: hay hits $28/bale, we need 60 bales/month

US: “WE DON’T GOT THIS.”

Also US: “We’re not quitting.”

Meanwhile, on the home front:

Vet and farrier bills? Unpaid.

Power company? Sending love notes labeled “disconnect notice.”

Credit cards? A joke.

Dog? Needs to be neutered.

Gas tank? Always flirting with E.

Super Bowl ring, emeralds, fine art? For sale, no buyers.

Fourth of July? Costs us $4600/year just to evacuate our horses from literal war zone-level fireworks.

Us? Sitting on our single bale of hay, surviving on Top Ramen, trying to keep a horse’s shoe on with positive vibes.

ALSO US:

Still living the dream.

A weird, slightly tragic, completely ridiculous, sometimes magical, always dusty dream.

THE END.

(And yes, I still love horses.)

**P.S. Feeling personally attacked by inflation?**  

Yeah, same.

If this blog post made you laugh or clutch your wallet nervously, and you're wondering how to help, here's your moment:  

**You can donate!**  

(And we pinky promise it’s not going toward anything glamorous—we're still rocking duct-taped muck boots over here.)

Our nonprofit provides a second chance for horses *and* for humans. We serve at-risk youth, struggling families, and folks navigating life and all the messy stuff thrown their way. Through horsemanship, we teach connection, responsibility, self-worth, and compassion—because horses don’t judge, but they sure do teach.

**Your donation helps cover:**  

- Hay and feed for our equine professors  

- Farrier and vet care  

- Program scholarships for kids and families in need  

- Gas to tow trailers, not just our hopes and dreams  

- And maybe a bag of carrots, because even the horses deserve a treat

We’re a legit nonprofit, and every bit helps us keep the magic going—one dusty step at a time.

Click here to support! ⤵️

Thanks for loving what we do, even when we’re just barely holding it all together with baling twine and good intentions.