Catching up with old, fuzzy Friends

Good evening everyone!

      Today was a good day.  There was intermittent pain, but it was one of the best days I've had for a while. I was asked to run the morning routine at a non-profit barn where I have been a volunteer for six years. This meant getting up hours earlier than normal (well, at least for Christmas break it was hours early!!), bundling up against the sunless cold, and working my butt of for over 2 hours without compensation.  ...and I wouldn't trade it for the world.  The horses who live there are old, semi-retired schoolmasters, and the most understanding souls I've ever come across.  After spending most of this past summer with them, they think that I myself am a strange biped equine!

      Horses remember everything.  When it comes to people, they never forget the hands that helped them into the world, that buckled on that first halter, that feed them every day, that heal their wounds, that clean their coats, that rub their heads, that sneak them treats, and that pat them affirmingly after a hard day's work.  Each of the nine horses I took care of this morning treated me as if I'd never left for school three months ago. Like continuing a paused conversation, we fell in stride together and picked up where we had left off.  I make a point of always talking to horses like they speak English. From how the respond to me, you'd thing they'd heard every word I'd said.

       Needless to say, these horses have touched me very deeply.  When my symptoms first appeared this past summer, the horses could tell.  They would see me weary and tired, look me in the eye, then slow down to match my pace.  When my hands hurt from the arthritis, I'd stretch them around a horses curved barrel and let the soft heat saturate my being. When I was distraught about my broken state, the horses would let me clutch a handful of mane and bury my face in their necks. One very special horse would turn around to check on me as I wet his coat with my tears.  I could gawk for another 200 pages about that "special bond" between humans and horses, but I think I've made my point.  

Two friends saying "Hello"

     One of these horses, "Dancer," was very lame all summer.  He had a serious history or laminitis and had foundered before, but this round was worse than the others.  He could barely walk at times from the pain in his feet, so he was put on stall rest with thick bedding to cushion his tender hooves.  I was constantly going to the barn to check on Dancer, clean his stall, change out his water, medicate him, and keeping him comfortable as he healed.  He was my healing partner: taking excellent care of him in his weakness reminded me to take care of myself in my weakness.  Truth be told, we were actually taking care of each other.  I received a letter from the stables last week, informing me that Dancer had suffered another round of laminitis and had to be put down.  It was the wise and merciful thing to do, but the barn wasn't quite the same this morning when his fuzzy brown head topped with an ebony mane didn't appear over his stall door.



     I had no idea just how badly I needed that speechless support group of hoofed heroes until right now.  This past semester was hard, and I blamed it on thousands of other things, but I never thought that it was because I was missing my best friends.  Mind you, I've still had contact with some horses this fall, but not my horses.  I don't own a single one of them, but we all know that legal ownership has nothing to do with whom you really belong to.  My heart belongs there, with them.

     It's times like this when I wish God would smack me with a bolt of understanding, because right now I don't understand, and it's upsetting.  Why did my healing partner have to suffer so badly only to die in the end? Why can't I function without those horses? Why can't I shake this disease and just get better? Why is this thorn in my side so vexing to my heart? Why am I going to college for a seemingly useless degree just because society says I need one?   Why is my calling to be at college so obvious and clear when I could be pursuing what I really love right here, right now?  Why do I have Lyme's now, making everything harder?  But alas, my curious mind wanders these alleys of thought, fearful, but thirsty for explanations and hungry understanding. So many questions, but the only answers I hear are rest and trust.  Far too simple for this complex character, oh no sir, I am greedy for more.  [Lord, let me see the depths of you heart...]

At this point, I'm not entirely sure why I have stayed up to 3:38am writing all of this....  But I do know that this is a shining piece of my soul, chipped off by hardship, buffed to a shine with love and care, and glistening with memories.

Pray for Me.
All my love,
~Melissa