If Connemaras could talk, what would they say about inspections?

A Huffington Post article captured the frustration of US gymnast Gabby Douglas hours after she won the individual gold medal in London in August 2012.

Apparently, social media was fixated on her hair. I generally notice gymnasts’ hair because so many of the competitors have myriad barrettes, plus a healthy sprinkling of glitter. In horse terms, it’s a mix of Saddlebred and hunter hair — tidy but showy at the same time. I must admit, though, when the headlines started popping up, I couldn’t even remember how Douglas had worn her hair.

Douglas, not surprisingly, was dumbfounded that people were ignoring the more important point: She had just won the most prized honor at the Summer Olympic Games.

The athletic, smart and thoughtful 16-year-old was quoted as saying: “I’m like, ‘I just made history and people are focused on my hair?’ It can be bald or short, it doesn’t matter about (my) hair.”

If only animals could talk.

If Connemaras could give their breed society a piece of their mind, they’d be saying the exact same thing, only likely with a little saltier language. They’d say (minus the four-letter words):

“Why are you measuring my legs?”

“Why are you focused on the shape of my jaw?”

“These breed requirements you’ve created have nothing to do with being a great Connemara. I am great, and it doesn’t matter about my legs or my jaw.”

The Connemara has always been praised for its intangible qualities: its heart, intelligence, sure-footedness, competitiveness, ability to survive, etc. Look at any list of breed qualities, and that’s what comes up.

This movement to measure the horse by physical measurements is completely at odds with the whole point of the breed.

It’s not about color. It’s not about shape. It’s not about size.

It’s about heart.

Where is the Connemara inspection that measures the size of a Connemara’s heart?