Ponies
My earliest memory took place on my second birthday at a market in Ontario. My dad took me there to pick out a pony, and I remember him giving commentary about which type of pony would be the best or the worst for my endeavours. The memory next resumes the following morning as my dad passionately tries convincing his two-year-old daughter that Flowers is not an appropriate name for a horse. His concerns only intensified when the tractor-trailer hauling my pony pulled into our lane.
Flowers was the first of a series of Shetland ponies with names such as Susie and Frosty. At some point, dad gave up hope of our ponies receiving cowboy-approved names. He was satisfied with his children learning to cowboy-up through bumps, bruises, and caring for our little equines regardless of their epithet.
Horses
Around the age of ten, an Appaloosa mare came to live at our farm, all haughty, gorgeous and feisty as they come. She was completely green, with little to no training. We named her Misty, but that’s as far as we got with her since she was too much horse for little kids to handle.
Charlie became the answer to our dreams. He was a beautiful, white, Arabian-Welsh gelding with a silver main and tail, and a heart big enough for three little kids. Charlie was well-trained, had an excellent temperament, and was willing to go with the flow.
I learned to run free on Charlie, galloping down the back lane and across fragrant fields of blooming alfalfa, golden wheat, and green meadows. We bounded around the farm daily and competed in barrel racing and pole bending competitions at the fair. We were a great team, thinking alike and working together as one. We had an incredible bond.
Throughout the years, more horses extended their unconditional love and acceptance. I’m grateful to the big grey gelding, Champ; the sleek ex-hunter named Simon; the sweet auburn mare named Darla; and Dixie, the golden palomino. These days, I’m learning from my Arabian mare, Cameo.
Horses fill my tank. I feel alive when I’m with them.
Your Turn
What makes you feel alive? What do you enjoy doing, whether with others or on your own? How can you incorporate a life-giving activity into your life regularly?
