In Difficult Times, There Is Hope.

Hope in a Horse

In difficult times, the end of the tunnel can be dark and dank. But there is always a friend down the path leading to the barnyard. I rode my Paint Tobiano today and he just blessed me. I walked down into the field to round up my meager remuda. After rubbing all 4.6 of them (one is 7 months old) with a halter, I pointed, clucked, and guided them back to the corral. My dingo thought she needed to assist while steering them in the wrong direction. Uhg. Once we were all back on track and we (me and Daisy the dingo) caught up with the heard, I rubbed them some more, played with the stud colt, and haltered my warm bodied gelding. Once on his back, saddle not included, I was thankful for their short run up a grade and into the corral because my cool derriere was now heating up by my warmed-up steed.

As we walked around our back pasture overlooking the Columbia River, I realized how healing my equine friend was and had been during the past 10 years. I have owned Buck since he was a yearling and through his awkward, high-speed coltish days, we have bonded like a mother does with her child. Yes, there were days I threatened to sell him. My friends would snicker and doubt my declaration, but nevertheless, he is remained a part of our family and for that I am thankful.

On the days I find myself discouraged, I head to the barn, halter in hand. The next thing I know, we (me, Buck, Daisy, Fanga and Grandma, the last two being Walker hound dogs) are trekking through the woods, smelling the fragrant pine trees, taking pictures of the ferns and wild flowers, nibbling on Saskatoon berries, and occasionally finding us at the bank of the Columbia River cooling off on a hot summer day.

Hope in a Horse
I see you in the field, waiting for me; I gather the lead and saunter your way,
You wait for me and stand still as I pull on the halter and knot the rope,
I slip onto your back, feeling your warmth and know that this is where the healing begins,
As we traipse through the woods, breathing in its freshness, I melt into you,
I see a glimmer in your dark, soft eyes of a blessing called hope.

What do you find hope in? What keeps you going in times of trouble?

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