A Horse’s Trust…
I had been feeling uneasy for a few days concerning 
Alex, my horse, like something dark was coming, although I did not know what. He was “summer lean”, as those in the horse world would say, but that is the norm for him. Physically, I could find nothing with him that would support my uneasiness. I started to tweak his diet, as I usually do this time of year anyway, to help him bulk up for the coming cold months, and I had already started to see him respond. All I could do from then on was continue to watch him from day to day, and hope that the dark cloud in my mind was imagined, and not the foreboding premonition that it felt like. The other day, when I woke up, the cloud was still there, along with a healthy case of nausea. I went to the barn to check on and turn out Alex and his stablemates, and noticed nothing wrong with him or any of the others. I set them up with fresh water and hay, then proceeded with my day on the road with Susan, my farrier friend. As usual, it was a good day, as I always enjoy her company, horse knowledge and wisdom, but I felt antsy throughout the day. The horses that I helped with that day all knew me well from past visits, and they knew that I was a bit off my game. The one thing about horses is that you can hide nothing from them. They see and feel everything, and I wasn’t able to interact with them as I usually do. I did my best to leave my uneasiness at the barn door, but I couldn’t, and they held me at leg and hoof’s length, both physically and mentally.
The Man arrived home from work shortly after I did, and after spending some time with him before he ran into town on errands, I went out to replenish everyone’s fresh water and hay. I grabbed a few flakes of hay on the way through the barn, and as soon as I stepped into the back yard to greet the wee ones (both donkey and horse), their tension hit me like a wave. They were on high alert, especially the donkeys, and on first glance, I could see nothing wrong with either them or their surroundings. Then, I heard it. Heavy pounding coming from the big horse’s paddock. My first thought was that Diva had decided to play in the giant water trough, as she has a fondness for doing, but then realized that it couldn’t be her, as the pounding was too erratic, coming in a flurry for a few seconds, then stopping completely. I dropped the flakes of hay and headed towards the gate, not knowing what I would find, but it didn’t feel right. In seconds, I had reached the gate and was quickly scanning the field, hoping that I was wrong and that it actually was Diva who was gleefully destroying another water tub. And then I saw him.
He was on his side, with most of his lower body inside one of the horse shelters, and he wasn’t moving, even when I called his name. My immediate thought was that I was too late for whatever was happening, and that he was dead, but as I neared him he started thrashing and kicking his legs up against the inside wall of the shelter. My mind shifted to colic, which in horses quite often can be deadly, and I knew I had to get him up and moving. He was clearly exhausted, and the panic in his movements mirrored what I saw in his eyes. Having just spent the day trying, and failing miserably, to keep my anxiety hidden from horses, I knew that this moment was key to whatever came next. I took a deep breath, centered my thoughts, and quietly said his name. “Alex” I whispered, as I knelt down beside him, laying one hand on his neck. His huge head swiveled towards me, and as he looked up at me, I saw the panic and fear in his eyes instantly disappear. I am not sure if a horse can feel relief, but in that moment, that is what I felt from him. Good sign, I thought, for in my small handful of colic experiences, the discomfort and fear in a horse’s eyes that is feeling that much pain does not go away that quickly. After calling the Man, and asking for his help, I again knelt at my best friend’s side, trying to figure out what was happening. I soon realized that Alex had been trying to get up, most likely after napping or rolling in the dirt, and had become wedged up against the wall of the shelter. With no room to get his legs under him to either get up or simply roll over, he had spent all of his energy pounding his feet and legs against the close wall trying to move. He lay there breathing heavily, his muscles shaking and his eyes following me intently. Far from relieved at realizing it wasn’t colic that had brought him down, I now worried that he might have injured a leg, hoof, or somehow injured himself internally while struggling so heavily for who knows how long. Or, possibly, all of the above.
I cradled his face with my hands, whispering to him that I was going to help, but that he had to preserve his strength so that he could help me help him when the time came. His eyes followed me as I rose, and as I turned towards the barn, I heard him sigh deeply. When I returned moments later with a halter and a lead, he had remained still and was waiting for me. I went behind him, and with my hands dug as much of the hard packed stone dust away from his body as I could to help him roll away from the wall. Wrapping the lead around his front legs and planting my feet, I looked him in the eye and whispered “Now, Alex, now!”. I knew me being able to pull him over was a long shot, but that was my only thought at the time. He kicked and arched his back, trying to roll over, with me pulling on his front legs with all of my might. It might have worked, and nearly did each time we tried, but his arching caused him to stop the roll with his head. By the time the Man arrived, I had slipped the halter over Alex’s head, and while the Man braced himself to hold Alex’s head and halter still, I again wrapped the lead around his front legs. I met Alex’s never wavering gaze, and he knew it was time to try again. He pushed, I pulled, the Man held, and after much groaning and straining from all of us, and with the Man and I dodging flying hoofs, Alex rolled onto his left side and onto his feet. I held my breath, watching as he shook off the dirt like a phoenix rising from the ashes. With still held breath, I watched him run out of the shelter to greet Diva and Sassy, who had remained close throughout the whole ordeal. I had expected him to be limping after what he had gone through, and he was, though his head was high and majestic as he ran around the paddock a couple times, as if he were checking to see what worked and what didn’t. His body language told me all I needed to know for the time being, and as he ran and stretched his legs, the limp nearly disappeared. The Man and I continued to watch him for a few minutes, and after giving him some medicine to help with the muscle soreness, we left him in Diva and Sassy’s care, who continued to follow and watch him closely with concern. It wasn’t until a few hours later that we realized how scared those two must have been watching him struggle. He is their Alpha, and as with all of us here at the Farm, all things truly do revolve around him.
I spent the next few hours cleaning stalls, and the Big 3 all had brand new, clean and dry bedding waiting for them when they came in for the night. Alex’s bedding was extra thick, because though he usually doesn’t lay down to sleep each night, I knew that on this particular night, the chances that he would rest those overworked and aching muscles were pretty high. 
When it came time for them to walk the short road that led from the field to the barn, I watched Alex closely for any signs of injury that might still be setting in. I could still see a slight limp in his back legs, but by morning, that would most likely be gone. His head was high, ears were alert, and the average man would see nothing that would indicate what had happened just a few short hours before. After everyone was settled into their stalls, happily munching on some grain and hay, I went to spend some time with Alex before turning out the lights for the night. He has never been one for being overly affectionate, so I wasn’t expecting anything different from him this night. True to form, he didn’t want to be fawned over, but he did lower his massive head, gently placing his forehead onto mine. We stood that way for about 10 seconds, eye to eye, then he turned back to his grain. For those 10 seconds, he offered love and gratitude in the only way that he knows how to show it. It was freely given, and gratefully accepted.
In the few days since, the uneasiness and foreboding that I had experienced leading up to that day has disappeared, and life has returned to normal here at the Farm. Earlier tonight, I stood next to Alex, with my head buried in his neck, while he ate his grain. As a rule, he has never liked to be bothered while he eats, but tonight he leaned into me as I wrapped my arms around him. For now, he still wants me near, and I am happy to oblige him. He is content, and tonight he will sleep feeling safe and knowing that all is well within his kingdom. I, too, will sleep peacefully knowing that in the morning, I will be greeted by the knicker of a horse that truly understands how much he is loved…
Butterscotch Kisses…
He walked into the Barn as he always does, with authority and purpose, and as he passed the mini horse’s stall, the nightly routine
of a few hoof stomps and a few snorts began. It never lasts very long, this display. It’s a nod to the resident wee horses that this Barn belongs to him, always has and always will. He was the first to be welcomed to the Farm, and with that comes a certain status that everyone who lives here, both four and two footed, is reminded of daily. On his testier days, he will include a high pitched whinny as an exclamation point, just in case nobody was listening. This night, however, he chose to forgo that extra proclamation, and went directly into his freshly cleaned stall where his nightly grain and hay awaited. After tucking his stablemates into their own stalls, I returned to his for our usual habit of quiet words and gentle scratches. I quietly came up beside him and stretched out my hand to caress that special spot on his neck, but instead of leaning into me as he usually does, he quickly pulled away and walked to the front of his stall. It wasn’t the first time he had done this in the past, so I wasn’t taken aback in any way. Some would argue that perhaps he is a bit spoiled, with kingly expectations, and I’m good with that. He has earned that right as well as his commanded status. As I turned to leave his stall, I ruffled his mane and gently chided him that it was ok if he was tired and cranky, but he didn’t have to be rude. Before I could reach the door, I felt his warm nose on my back, and I felt his words “I’m sorry, don’t go. I am tired from the day, but I want you near.”. He returned to his grain bowl, and I moved to stand by his side. We stood there in silence, with him slowly chewing and me with just one still hand on his back. He sighed deeply, and relaxed to my touch. His majestic head lifted and slowly swung towards me, and when our eyes connected, I realized that I hadn’t been spending as much time with him as both he and I would like. My days here on the Farm during the summer are full, and although I work very hard to make sure that every critter living here has their share of quality time each day, once in awhile that isn’t enough. He took another deep breath, and then took a step back so that my face was level with his. As I had gently reprimanded him a few minutes before, he was now quietly chiding me. I instantly felt his need for closeness and connection, but most of all, I felt his love. After a few moments, the spell was broken, and he started chewing as he lifted his head to expose his neck. This time he accepted the gentle scratch, then lowered his head to rub his nose on my shoulder. Never one for wasted emotions, he then returned to his grain and hay, but now with an air more of contentment than of concern. I grabbed his favorite brush, and while he slowly chewed his hay with his eyes closed, I brushed away the dirt and sweat of the day. I carefully brushed his beautiful mane, taking out twigs that he had collected while browsing earlier in his field. 
Just as I thought he might be tiring of the attention, he shifted his weight and offered one front foot to be cleaned. I pulled my ever present hoof pick from my back pocket and set to work, with him offering up another foot as the last was finished. As I slipped the hoof pick back into my pocket, he rubbed his forehead on my back a few times, with a slight nudge towards the door. He was satisfied, and was telling me it was time to go. As I reached for the handle on his door, I felt one last nudge of his nose. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked. I followed his gaze to my right front pocket, where chances were good that I might happen to have a couple of his favorite butterscotch horse treats. It was a safe bet, and all of the animals here on the Farm know that the same pocket almost always has something to nibble on. Soft fuzzy lips carefully took what was offered, and when the treats were gone, those same soft lips brushed my cheek and his butterscotch breath warmed my face. It is moments like this that I wish could last longer, but one cannot take or expect affection from a horse, only gratefully accept when it is freely given. With one final soft knicker, our time was done, and he returned to his hay. I closed his stall door, and gently slid the latch into place. I made the rounds one last time to check on the other Barn residents, securing doors and scratching noses. The Barn was quiet, except for chewing noises, and I knew that they were all content, and most importantly, felt loved. I glanced over one last time at him as I turned off the lights, and he was standing there, warm eyes watching me. “Good night, my friend. I love you.” I said. I slid the Barn door closed, and as I walked towards the house, I once again felt the warmth…and love…of fuzzy butterscotch kisses on my cheek.
A wink and a smile…
As the Man and I enter our third week of “Horse Ownership 101”, we find ourselves settling into a comfortable rhythm with Alex and Diva. I wake up early now, to make myself a coffee and head to the barn, with two eager dogs by my side. The horses greet us with soft hellos, followed by more urgent requests for their morning meal. I give a quick scratch on the nose to each, then get on with satisfying their never ending need for food. After all is done, and Alex and Diva are quietly chewing away, I head back into the house to refresh my coffee and catch up on what is happening in the world. It has been an easy transition to include the horses into my morning routine, and it feels as though I’ve been doing it all my life. I pull on my muck boots and throw on my fuzzy robe, and I go out and do what needs to be done…and I like it…
The transformation in my Alex has been a wonder to witness. Sick and weak when he came to the Farm, he is putting on weight quickly, and the shine has returned to his eyes. He playfully nudges me, and will ruffle his nose through my pockets looking for treats. The treats are always on me somewhere, he knows it is his job to find them. Our complete trust in each other has returned, and with it the closeness that we had before. I am also seeing a glimpse of an impatient brat in Alex, but for now, I am ok with that. After being the low man on the pole in a large herd, he deserves to feel as though he should come first…for awhile, at least…
In the evenings, we spend a lot of time in the Barn, and out of the corner of my eye, I quietly watch the Man have his time with Diva. She trusts him more every day, and will now calmly drop her head and lean into him as he scratches her ears. She studies him with her big brown eyes, and it’s as if she now realizes that she truly is home, and no longer has to fear. I see in them what I share with Alex…and I am happy for them…
In the beginning of this adventure, my biggest fear was that there was so much I didn’t know about horses, so much to learn. I’ve come to realize that I needn’t worry as much as I do. The more time I spend with Alex and Diva, the more I learn about their personalities. They pout and stamp their feet to get their way, and Diva has perfected the “Talk to the hand” stance when she is trying to make a point. I swear I saw Alex grin when I gave him his grain this morning. Their every move tells a story, and I am getting fairly good at knowing their mood at any given time. When their world is good, they let me know, and when it’s not, they let me know that as well. I am sure that there are many lessons ahead for the four of us, but for now, life is good for our two horses…and ours is much richer…
Homecoming…
Our dream for the Farm has always been to return it to it’s glory days of years past, and this summer was our biggest step towards that goal. Our days , rain or shine, were spent putting up fences and rebuilding the big barn, making it ready for our expanding family. At the start of the summer, our plan was to add two horses, Alex and Chaser, to our fold, with no immediate plans for adding any others. Two was a good start, and the learning curve would be easier. In July, we had crossed paths with a beautiful paint mare, and before we knew it, Diva had been added to the list. Our preparation had it’s share of setbacks, including having to completely rebuild half of the barn’s floor due to rot, but we slowly and surely made progress. With the finish line in sight, we learned that Chaser, the old man of the three, had become ill and passed away. Chaser had been one of the sweetest horses we’d ever met, and he would have been a great companion to Alex and Diva, as well as to us. Though we were sad, we knew that we still had a lot of work left to do, and we put our noses to the proverbial grindstone. We set a date and made arrangements, and before we knew it, the day had come.
The day we had planned for and looked forward to for months brought with it a steady rain, but even the sogginess of the day could not dampen our excitement. Alex was the first to arrive that morning, and the moment he stepped out of the trailer was magical for me. Over the last couple of years, I had come to have a deep bond with Alex, and knowing that he was actually here, actually a part of the Farm now, was nearly overwhelming. He walked into the barn and claimed his stall as if he had been here all his life. It had been a hard summer for him with the other horses at his old home, and he seemed to sense that this was where he belonged, with the person that he belonged to. Knowing that Diva wouldn’t be arriving until late in the day, I spent as much time with Alex as I could. As the day wore on, he began to get restless, and I started to worry about what state he would be in by the time of Diva’s arrival. Darkness, as well as heavy rain, had started to fall by the time her previous owners pulled into the driveway. While still in her trailer, she trumpeted her arrival with a loud whinny, and a few moments later, an answer was returned from the barn. “The moment of truth” I thought, as she was led in through the large, open door. Alex was at full attention as he watched her walk into her stall, which is right next to his. Diva gave quick inspection to her stall, as we quietly shut the door behind her and watched with eager anticipation. Alex quietly blew through his nose as if to say “Hello there, friend.”, and as Diva approached the bars that separate the two stalls, Alex stuck his nose through to her side. Oblivious to us, their noses touched and they quietly greeted each other, causing all who witnessed it to catch their breath. To me, it was at that moment that our farm had truly become “The Farm”, and I stood beside the Man, both of us not daring to breath for fear of breaking the spell. We quietly exited the barn, leaving them to their business of getting acquainted, and visited with Diva’s previous owners. After they left, we went back into the barn. Alex and Diva were standing next to each other and looking at us as if to say “What now?” What now, indeed…
It’s been a week since our two horses arrived, and the learning curve is certainly a steep one. We have spent countless hours with them, enjoying their presence, and watching them bond and play in their paddock that we worked so hard at to prepare. We’ve also had our fair share of drama during the past week, including a midnight visit from the vet a few nights ago when Alex decided to wrestle with his stall door and came up a little bit on the short end of the tussle. As horrifying as that night was, it brought home to us how fragile these proud, majestic horses truly are, and how much they depend on us for their care. It has been a week of new beginnings and discovery, with a healthy dose of education and shoveling on our part. But it has also been a week of quiet contentment and gaining of trust, and certainly of love returned ten fold. We have come full circle, the four of us. Alex and Diva are home, and they are now a part of the family…part of the Farm…
Me and the Man... 