Horse and Human Friends

I have many equine friends who live all over the country. I am talking about the four-legged kind, not the two-legged. Some I see regularly, some, like my human friends, not so often. Some mornings I wake up and deeply miss a horse friend who is pastured hundreds of miles away. Or maybe just a few miles.

While I think of my dear equine friends regularly, I am not convinced they do the same about me. I do not believe one or another spends his or her time daydreaming about when they will see me next. I don't think they miss me much when I am not there, if at all.

However, I continue to be amazed every time I visit one of my special horse friends. Nine times out of ten the horse leaves his or her food, and his friends, to walk to me and greet me. This is a huge thing for a horse. Horses instinctively know they are safer in a herd than alone. Many are reluctant to step away from a big pile of hay, or the green grass. I am honored that the horse chooses to spend time with me. Honored and more than a little humbled.

I stand quietly as each of my friends stops a respectful foot or two away and waits for me to initiate contact. I am here, now, and s/he remembers me. I run my hands over my friend's body. Scratch them in their special spot. I tell them what I have been up to since we last met.

We talk for a while and eventually I turn to go, giving promises that it definitely will not be so long before we meet again. My horse friend walks me to the gate and we enjoy a final hug.

I realize that my visits with my horse friends are not so much different than visits with my human friends. We meet, greet, enjoy, catch up, and hug before we leave. Because that's what friends do and it just doesn't matter how many legs you have.

My Friend

A dear friend of mine passed away recently. He was kind and gentle and patient. Forgiving and quiet. Friendly. He hated the heat and loved sticking his face in front of a fan. He was polite and always let others go first. He was the first to compromise during a disagreement, the last to pick a fight.

Nelson loved being out in nature, but he also loved--like most of us do--for others to make him feel special. He gloried in a job well done and he enjoyed the success of others. Nelson was especially good at encouraging people to reach their goals. He was a confidence builder, a teacher, a nurturer. Nelson was the best.

My friend Nelson was older, but not elderly. When he passed, he went quickly. He would have wanted it that way. He'd had some health concerns in the past, but nothing life threatening. When it was his time, it was his time. I only wish we'd had time to say goodbye.

Nelson inspired me every day to step up and be a better person, a better teacher, a better friend. He reminded me to be thorough, and to take time to breathe every now and then. And sigh. Nelson gave the best sighs.

My friend Nelson was a 16.1 hand, solid colored Paint gelding. He was a show horse in his younger years, but I knew him as a therapy horse, a horse who taught children with disabilities not only to ride, but about fairness, teamwork, determination, hard work and success. I will miss you, Nelson, my friend. And I will never forget you, or all that you taught me. Rest well and in peace.

Snoqualmie

This month would have been Snoqualmie's 49th birthday. Snoqualmie was the horse I had as a child, and then was my son Colby's horse when he was small. The bond I had with her and then that Colby had with her was amazing. I never had a moment of worry or doubt about Colby's safety if he was  with Snoqualmie. He'd climb up her mane and ride her in through the pasture with no halter or bridle,  guiding her by pulling left or right on her mane.

Sometimes they'd amble along, a Civil War soldier and his horse coming home from battle, complete with cardboard guns and a military cap we found at a thrift store. Other times they'd gallop through the field, a pirate ship and her captain escaping the enemy (which was sometimes our dog, Dexter, or less often, our cat Bootsie).

Colby never fell off. Snoqualmie would never have allowed it. If he got off balance, she shifted underneath him and gently slowed. She was quiet and patient with Colby, but she knew he was important to me and took good care of him.

Snoqualmie passed away when Colby was six and she was 31. She'd had a stroke a few days before and finally got down and could not get back up. One thing she loved to do was eat, so as I held her head in my lap in a field of trees as I waited for the vet, Colby went to the barn for the grain. For once she could have all she wanted. She licked handful after handful from Colby's little hand and when it was time, I sent Colby to the house. She is buried there, underneath the trees. Even after we moved away from that house, Colby and I visited her at least once a year.

Today I like to think that she is galloping off to new adventures in the great beyond. I had her with me for twenty-three years. She was my best friend and I miss her more than words can say. Happy Birthday, my Fat Girl.

Friendship

Friendship comes in many forms. There's the genuine friendship and affection we have with and for our four-legged friends, and there's the friendship we have with people we see or talk to every day. These are the BFF people, the people we pour our hearts and souls out to, the people we support in their times of need, the people who know us best.

But then there is the friendship we have with people who fall into and out of our lives. People we may have spent a few years with at college and then, when we see them again 20 years later can pick right up with like it was yesterday. People we may have once shared office space with and bump into in the grocery store years later. People who once helped us over a hump and then moved away.

I have found that this last group of friends and friendship is one we do not treasure enough, for often, these are the friends who bounce back into our paths when the going gets tough. They are there to support us, help us, nurture us, and when we get back on track, then they slowly fade away. Sadly, it usually is not until you go through a crisis that you find out who these people are.

So now I think is as good a time as any to reconnect with those friends who have fallen by the wayside for whatever reason. Now is the time to drop your high school buddy a long overdue email, have coffee with a former neighbor, send your great-aunt a nice card to her her know you are thinking about her. We always wait until a holiday or special occasion comes along to connect. Then we do it because we feel obligated. We have to. How nice it is to rediscover an old friend because you want to. There once was a connection between the two of you. Maybe there still is and by not staying in touch, you are missing out on knowing another wonderful human being. Go for it and if you find an old friend, let me know. I'd love to hear about it.