You know that special feeling that I guess all little girls-and quite a few big ones-dream about having when they walk out in the pasture to see their horses and it seems like the horses can’t seem to get enough of them? Yeah-that one. The one where they actually run to meet you instead of the catching game?
Well, after 50 something years of having horses, I have that. All seven of them will come-the more agile ones galloping and the more reserved more slowly. But they come-and I have to give individual attention to each or feelings are hurt. The sisters are always first-insistent on being first and there is no such thing as enough. Then the warmblood-proud, imperious, and yet oddly juvenile in his begging for attention. The older mares will stand back and wait their turns for scratching. Then comes the pony-who knows he is lowest on the pecking order for all his vain attempts to prove himself.
It’s been a long, long road to get to this-so I savor every moment I spend with them. So very few people get to experience this magical experience-and here I have it each time I go out there. How wonderful and how blessed I am. If only relationships with humans could be so incredible!