If you're not an equestrian, how much of this comical video makes sense?

Don't worry, it's not supposed to--it probably just looks like a really cringe-worthy, fever-induced dream.

When an outsider sets foot in a horse barn, it's like they're visiting a new country. The clothing, the terminology, the social norms, they all change. Things that are acceptable when you're with your non-horsey friends suddenly become not-so-acceptable around equestrians. Yes, we regularly step in poo. No, we don't really care. Yes, we generally look down on riders who do.

The equestrian lifestyle is something often glamorized by the countless "pretty pink pony" toys for sale and cartoons such as "Horseland" and "Spirit Riding Free". The bonds between horse and rider seem extraordinarily close and horses are made out to have the same level of conscious thought as humans (hell, in "Horseland," they even can talk).

So it's no wonder people think equestrians are crazy! All they imagine when they think of horse people is the idealized happy children in clean clothing galloping around on steeds with colorful streaks in their manes. And don't even get me started on horse movies. I hate them.

For you non-equestrians, let me clear something up: we do not even pretend to live the life television spells out for us.

First and foremost, horses are animals, not people. They are sensitive creatures, yes, and they'll pick up on your bad mood and try to cuddle. But just because your horse happens to like you doesn't mean he'll let you ride him around without a saddle or bridle. Once he figures out that you can't do anything, he's probably going to meander over to the nearest hay-bale and just start munching. Horses have brains primarily wired for survival, not carrying humans around, and any equestrian worth his salt knows it.

Sorry "Spirit Riding Free," bareback and bridleless is usually not a safe choice and it's a myth that a "bond" with your horse will make up for hours of training. There's no such thing as your horse performing well solely because he likes you. He probably just wants to be done with work.

Secondly, riding is grueling. It is tough. It is work. Sometimes it gets scary, and then it gets boring and repetitive and you sometimes just want to quit. But the T.V. doesn't often depict it as more than a bunch of carefree cantering around.

I have regularly woken up at 3:00 a.m. on show mornings to warm up my horse. Then I'll be on my feet or in the saddle until 2:00 p.m. in the 90-degree heat. I have drilled left-hand circles for an hour and still not gotten the maneuver I wanted out of my mount. My horse has tried to put me in the dirt when he is tired and doesn't want to work. I have literally been steamrolled by my 1,600-pound draft horse mare when she tripped and fell on me -- I saw all four of her hooves in the air.

Then there's the work out of the saddle that goes along with it, especially before a show. You don't just get to get up and ride, which is what these television programs show you. There are stalls to clean, horses to bathe, manes to band or braid in those little cute buttons that make your fingers bleed. Here's hoping your horse stands still for the hour and a half it takes to do them; my current guy never likes it, he practically starts tap-dancing. Afterwards, there's your tack -- your saddle, your bridle, your boots, that all need to be cleaned with leather cleaner. I always hate that part because I'm not rich enough to have two saddles for showing and practice.

Show days aren't like the T.V. portrays, either. That five minute ride is only that: five minutes. The rest of the time at a show is spent sitting on your horse, waiting and sweating. I never knew why the gods above make riders wear blazers, long pants, a black hat and tall leather boots for class. I once got so hot that I rode my horse around the show-grounds in a sports bra and the leather cowboy chaps I needed for next class. I looked like a half-dead, wanna-be... I don't even know what. What I do know is that absolutely nobody stared.

All of this for a 99-cent ribbon. And yet, my mare still has the nerve to decide, in the middle of a class, that she really doesn't need to be here and dang it, she'll try to run over the judge if it means she gets to stand in the middle of the ring and be done.

Our feet have been crushed, our hands have been bitten, our hair has been slobbered on, and yet horse people still come back to their sometimes thankless animals.

So maybe equestrians are crazy -- just not in the way you'd expect us to be.