Too true! Lol. Really wanted to reply “Don’t worry. I ain’t coming by your little Adequan/IRAP injection proving grounds, lady.” But I was good & made myself get off FB. 
She actually had a few reasonable points buried down in there, like not expecting a horse to be perfect without being willing to put in the work to be correct yourself. And I do get where working western sometimes requires certain ground manners instilled to a level & duration beyond that required in other disciplines. Yet, having owned several horses over the years that earned their own hay $$$ & had heavy duty crowd safe ground manners, I never found instilling those manners to be remotely the huge honking ordeal this person seems to make it into. It just took patience & a firm, friendly attitude. Or maybe it’s my black magick, horse mind-bending Reiki skillz 
The other point I think she misses is that you also want them to be able to think things through independently – there’s no way to adequately desensitize a horse to every possible occurrence. Our old Percheron nearly gave me a heart attack once getting himself into a 1 in a million pickle:
We rented a property that had been a breeding farm & had a run in divided in half by steel tube panels that continued the division of the stud alley outside. Percheron got sick of the little OTTBs, somehow squeezed into the 2.5’-3’ chute formed by the board & batten wall & steel tube panels, and threaded his way to the end of the space – around two right angles for a distance of at least 50’. 

Like any rational horse owner confronted with this “what the heck” situation, I freaked out.
. But I had no one else to pick up my human children from preschool, so I jumped in the car & made the 20 minute trip over the mountain. On the way I frantically called everyone I could think of that might remotely be of aid, telling them to come over, there was no time to explain, b& I needed help tearing down the (expensive, very solidly built) board & batten wall of the shed to rescue sweet old Prince, dammit!
By the time I made it back home with the kids I had everyone from the vet, a neighbor, a construction worker friend, and possibly large animal technical rescue on standby. In the paddock stood an amazing sight, though! The old Percheron in all his farm chunk woolie grey Yeti-like glory, calmly munching on the round bale. I leapt from the car “OMG! YOU’RE OUT!! YOU’RE ALIVE!!!” Completely unimpressed, he sighed & continued to munch his hay as he regarded the arrival of his crazy human caretaker (me) & then the vet.
He was perfectly fine. Never even broke a sweat according to the vet. Near as we could tell, once he got bored he calmly & methodically backed himself out the 50’ navigating the two right angles handily. No one taught him how; who the heck would’ve ever foreseen this?? Being used to the confined space created by the carriage shafts skimming his sides no doubt helped. I’m fairly sure he’d never had to bend his body around a fixed right angle, though. He managed to extract himself by virtue of having been taught to use advanced problem solving skills independent of human aid. He actually seemed to think the whole thing was funny, the jerk!