Word – Equestrian Is Having an Uncomfortable Moment. Its Olympic Horses Are Not.

For most of the athletes at the Paris Olympics, the accommodations are to be endured, rather than enjoyed. In the name of sustainability, the beds at the Olympic Village feature cardboard frames and inflatable mattresses. The bathrooms are communal. To the horror of the French, the British have even complained about the food.

One group of competitors, though, has no such issues. They are spending the Games in a temperature-controlled, tastefully appointed housing complex set amid the ornate splendor of Versailles. Their food, and often their beds, have traveled with them from home. They each have a staff member to cater to their every need. Life, at the Olympics, should be good for the horses.

“The stables at Versailles are more than just a place to rest,” the International Equestrian Federation said in a recent news release, sounding more like a luxury tour operator than an athletic governing body. “Each horse will enjoy a spacious 4m x 3m box with rubber mats and locally-sourced bedding of straw or shavings.”

The emphasis on equine comfort at these Games is at least partly rooted in defensiveness. A few days before the opening ceremony, a four-year-old video emerged of the British Olympian Charlotte Dujardin, a three-time gold medalist in dressage, repeatedly striking a horse with a whip during a training session at her stable.

Dujardin withdrew from the Games and was suspended indefinitely by the equestrian federation, known as FEI, pending the results of an investigation. She issued an apology, saying she was “deeply ashamed” of an “error of judgment” that “does not reflect how I train my horses or my students.”

The sport as a whole has been quick to condemn Dujardin and to characterize the footage as an exception in the sport’s culture rather than a rule.

“What happened is completely unacceptable,” Goran Akerstrom, FEI’s veterinary director, said in an interview. Riders need to show “respect and an ethical understanding of the horse as an individual,” he added.

To the athletes competing in the exacting, subtle sport of dressage, which requires exquisite communication and trust between horse and rider, the footage was an almost obscene contradiction of what the discipline entails.

“These methods do not bring you forward,” said Frederic Wandres, a German rider who will compete in the dressage team final on Saturday. “If you put pressure and pain into something, no horse will give you back what you need. You have to have a special bond with your horse. You will not get that from the horse if you treat it like this.”

The problem for equestrian sports is that the stain is difficult to remove. In Tokyo three years ago, a German coach was thrown out of the Olympics after seeming to punch a horse just a few minutes before it competed in the riding portion of the modern pentathlon. (Strictly speaking, modern pentathlon is not considered an equestrian sport, because its athletes also compete in four other disciplines. And in 2028, at the Los Angeles Games, the riding element will be replaced by an obstacle course — a change confirmed in part because of the Tokyo incident.)

In the aftermath of Dujardin’s punishment, two more dressage riders were accused of mistreating their horses. And just this week, two riders at the Games were eliminated after competing in dressage events — one because of a small cut on his horse’s leg, the other when blood was found in his horse’s mouth after the competition. Neither rider was accused of wrongdoing.

Those involved with the sport are adamant that care of their horses is their top priority, but the accrual of incidents and accusations has raised questions about whether the equestrian sport — an elite and expensive one — even belongs at the Olympics.

The consequences of a reckoning could be severe. The International Olympic Committee, the body that oversees the Games, tracks in minute detail how each of the 32 Olympic sports performs: how much airplay they generate, how much social media traction they gain, how popular they are and how much they add to the program relative to their cost.

Being associated with allegations of animal abuse hardly helps the sport make a case for its continued presence. “I think everyone is a wee bit worried about the future of it,” said Abigail Lyle, an Irish dressage rider.

It is understandable, then, that the equestrian federation and the officials in charge at the Olympics have been quick to emphasize the perks of being a horse at the Games.

The horses travel with entourages of veterinarians, grooms, physiotherapists and other helpers, and they are monitored by additional vets and other therapists provided at the Games. At Versailles, they have three sand rings, six exercise areas, a gallop track for lunging, a dedicated grazing zone and access to “individually adapted hoof care” from a special team of elite farriers.

Their locations are monitored at all times; their temperatures are checked twice a day; their training programs are altered if they become too hot; and the “cooling tents” set up for their comfort are so enticing that the riders like to duck into them, too.

“These are top, top athletes,” said Adrienne Lyle, an American dressage competitor (and no relation to Abigail Lyle, the Irish rider). “Picture an N.B.A. player,” she said of her horse, Helix. “He has every therapy, every nutritionist, every person there making sure mentally he’s in a calm place.”

The United States has eight horses competing at the Olympics, and they do not travel light. Each has its own groom. “We also have a team vet,” said Hallye Griffin, the director of FEI sport for U.S. Equestrian. “We have equine physiotherapists and human therapists. We have personal trainers and coaches. And some of the athletes have their own personal trainers and coaches as well.”

Though the Americans competed in Europe before the Olympics and thus were able to travel by van to the Games, they will fly home afterward. (The horses fly commercially on cargo planes. There is no special aircraft known as “Air Horse One,” despite rumors to the contrary.)

Food is a preoccupation for both horse and rider. Equine nutritionists analyze the sugar content of horses’ hay to ensure that “the balance is right for them,” Griffin said. The U.S. team brought its own grain: several 50-pound bags per horse. Some of its rivals also arrived with their own preferred hay, though the French cuisine is said to be excellent. “There’s wonderful hay that’s available here at the venue,” Griffin said.

Access to the stables is strictly controlled. Between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m., lights go out so the horses can get “some quiet time,” Akerstrom said. All the humans have to leave except for a team of flashlight-wielding night stewards who quietly patrol the premises.

The horses’ grooms are housed nearby, on standby. “Even if the horse has just pushed over their water bucket, the groom will run back and fix it,” Akerstrom said.

In addition to the cooling tents, the equestrian federation said, the venue has been outfitted with a network of heat-mitigation measures like mobile cooling units and wash-down areas, “ensuring hydration and comfort for all.” (All the horses, that is.)

After finishing their preliminary dressage routines in 90-plus-degree heat one day this week, the athletes divided along species lines. The horses stripped down and cooled off with four fans and a misting spray before being given a good soapy wash by their grooms.

The humans — sweltering in the snug tailcoats and knee-high boots that constitute the dressage uniform — had to hang around in the sun, gamely answering questions from reporters.

“If I’m really good in this life I might come back as one of my horses,” Adrienne Lyle said. No matter how much attention her horse, Helix, gets — the physiotherapy, the acupuncture, the meetings with his nutritionist to discuss changes in his oat consumption — she said he always clamors for more.

“The more people in there massaging him and feeding him, the better,” she said. “We joke that if he could, he would go to the spa and lay back with cucumbers on his eyes.”

To most of the riders, that is exactly how their horses should be treated. The affection they have for them is abundantly clear: They talk about them as if they were family members.

Abigail Lyle described her horse, Artie, as “an internal worrier.”

“He’s so polite, never gets in your space, so sweet,” she continued. “He just wants to please.” Carl Hester, the British rider, described his mount, Fame, as “the ideal pet.”

Wandres, the German rider, said he would spend all his time in the stable with Bluetooth, his horse, making sure his feed is appetizing and his blanket is just right.

“They’re like our children,” he said. “On Sunday afternoons, my boyfriend will say, ‘Again?’ I tell him I’ll go down for an hour and then he’ll call much later, and ask why I’m still there.”

The riders know, though, that words alone will not undo the string of controversies that has cast a shadow over the competition this year.

“We’re all making an effort to show how much we love our horses,” said Hester, who won a gold medal in 2012 and is competing in his seventh Olympics. “I show horse welfare to be at its highest by the way I keep my horses. I have an open yard, daily training, and I welcome everyone to come. We have to show the positives of the sport, because when you see the crowds here, so many people enjoying it, it gives you hope that equestrianism can survive.”