Life Without Horses?
When this little pillow was given to me, I was in the thick of it with horses. I was a practicing equine sports massage therapist, our daughter had a horse, I had one, and someone was boarding their horse in our barn. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything. Life was good. Tough day at work? Go home, tack up, and go for a relaxing jaunt in the woods. Nothing was more peaceful or fulfilling.
Lots of people told me it was dangerous to trail ride alone, but I thought it was safer. Nobody else’s horse was acting up, causing a ripple effect with other horses. It was just me and my horse, enjoying nature. Walking along trails. Running up hills. Standing quietly, listening to birds. In our town forest, one trail went up a hill too steep and rocky to navigate unless winter blessed us with a thick base of snow. How my horse loved to run up that hill, and if the snow was crunchy it felt like running on cornstarch because he had so much traction.
Each horse taught me something different
In those days, I couldn’t imagine being without a horse. Owning one was a lifelong dream. Our first horse belonged to me and our daughter. He was part of my soul and he owned my heart. He taught me how to properly take care of horses, which was the part I loved most. Riding was fun, but that bond meant everything. Our second horse, solely our daughter’s, taught me patience. In the beginning, we had to move gingerly around him, figure out what made him tick, and work around his quirks. Our third horse, which was mine, taught me how to ride (or should I say stay on), because as cute as he was, he had an opportunistic streak—I had to be one step ahead of him at all times.
Part of my life force seems gone without horses
I was passionate about horses from the second I saw my first one and that’s why this time in my life feels difficult. I don’t have a horse of my own anymore and our barn is empty. As our horses became ill or grew old and passed away, we didn’t bring more home. It’s fair to say that a piece of me feels dead without a horse, but should I get another? Is it practical at this time?
I don’t believe in buying and selling animals. If I get one, I’m in it for the long haul and that could be decades—our daughter's horse died at twenty-nine. Healthwise, I feel the best I ever have, but at the age of sixty-eight, I worry about my ability to give a horse a forever home. If something happens to me, what will happen to my horse? It’s a big expense that you can’t expect someone else to take on.
Having horses at home is a huge commitment
Anyone lucky enough to keep a horse at home understands that nobody can take care of it as well as you can. Do I want to be tied to the house again? Going away is almost impossible, and with the added expense of a horse, a vacation could be unaffordable. It’s a conundrum. But what I know without question, is that I miss them. Looking at them. Hearing them. And smelling them—the hay, shavings, and yes—even the manure.
Perhaps the answer is to live vicariously through our granddaughter
The silver lining is that next year, our granddaughter will be old enough to start riding lessons. She deserves the gift of horses just like me and her mother before her. She’s a natural in the saddle when she gets a pony ride. Completely relaxed, smiling, and without a care in the world. It makes my heart dance. Hopefully, she will have a pony of her own someday. Even if I don’t get to ride, it’ll be great to have horses (or ponies) in our lives again. Take care of them. Listen to them. And smell them. Who knows, maybe that will be enough.
Until next time,
Jean AKA The Strategic Chicken – making life’s journey one strategic step at a time.
