It might seem that a veterinarian should slip right into being a horse mom when her own daughters adore horses and want to ride. As I type, my dishwasher is filled with stirrup irons and there’s a very hairy thing called a girth in my washing machine, but my transition to horse mom has been filled with rapid heart rates (mine), hesitation (mine), and downright fear (mine again). Born and raised in Philly, the only horses I ever saw were the mounted police during the parades in the city. Most of the time they weren’t just standing quietly, they were prancing around somewhat nervous themselves from all the activity. When it was time to squeeze behind them to move through the crowds, my mom’s advice was, “don’t walk behind them, they’ll kick you and kill you.” And so it began. Somehow my vision of becoming a veterinarian did not require me to ever touch a horse. I imagined only small, furry, licking and wagging pets who I adored and vice versa. Then vet school large animal rotation happened. In a stroke of genius, our team captain for large animal medicine and surgery decided to put…