I Had Given Up
When I say I had given up, I really had.
It just hurt too much.
I couldn’t put my heart out there again like that for it to be crushed into oblivion by the loss of one more soul horse.
Don’t get me wrong; I have never been a casual horse enthusiast; I grew up a true barn rat, refusing to come home when it was time and being there at the crack of dawn just to see the dust dance and plume in the morning sunlight.
The nickers during the morning feed would set my spirit right for the day. My intention: anything and everything to do with horses.
My neighbor recently said, “It’s funny you are still into horses. Usually, girls outgrow them.”
He’s an engineer, so I forgave him. I jest, but there is some truth there.
How could anyone believe that I would ever outgrow or give up on my life’s passion? I certainly would have bet money on the fact that I never would…until I lost her.
The Love of My Life
She was only six years old, and a colic took her faster than I could imagine.
I had acquired her as a four-year-old, and we shared two blissful years in each other’s company. She was my everything—the perfect horse for me.
About a year after her death, I decided I was through. Now, keep in mind I made this decision while I had a stable of four.
I imagined I would just care for them until their days were over, and they would have a great life here in their herd.
But I would never…EVER…give my heart away to another horse like that. I simply could not, and I wasn’t even sad about it.
I was confused by it, certainly, but sad I was not. It just seemed like my new reality.
Little did I know that they would come roaring back into my heart due to an OTTB who needed a helping hand.
Finding a Way Forward
His mom had a terrible accident with him, and he had been brought to a trainer for work in hopes that he might one day be safe enough for her to ride.
That would never be the case.
I was brought in because his owner did not know where to go or what to do with him. She just knew she couldn’t, and I fully understand that place.
She wanted the best for him, a path forward, and I wanted to help her find that path.
The first impression I had of him was that he was absolutely terrified of people (not as a result of anything his owner had done).
He snorted at me when I placed his halter on, unsure of who I was and what I wanted.
Was this going to be a bad interaction? His whole body seemed to say, as he failed to relax even a little on our walk to the round pen.
Coming Home to Myself
During our first three sessions, I knew he was figuring out who I was and what I was about.
I kept telling him, “It’s okay to relax with me.”
By the fourth time, he started to believe it might be true.
Before I knew it, we were running and playing at liberty together, him initiating contact, giving me kisses, and nuzzling into the crook of my arm as he buried his nose in my shirt.
I felt love again…for a horse.
Now, I probably could have brought this horse home, and I did think about it, but he has a destiny elsewhere, and I know that. I still see him on the regular, love on him, and spend time sharing essential oils and treats with him, but our paths are diverging.
New Understanding
I am grateful to recognize what he did for me because I was never coming back into the barn. But his path crossed with mine, and I understood that I could love ALL horses the way I loved HER.
The love was not just hers; it was within me all along, and while I still shed tears when I think or say, “My baby,” I know that this is not the end…clearly.
I want to offer gratitude to my biggest buddy ever, the OTTB rescue, who rescued me right back.
Don’t they just have a way of doing that?