Finally, a few moments to call my own, or so I thought. The plan started off simple enough. Drop the kids off for school, scoot home, grab up the horses, enjoy a quick ride and then back to town by noon to juggle an afternoon of impossible chores.
Of course, my horses had other plans. Purposely waiting to feed them until I got home, I found them standing hungrily at the gate. I knew this to be a sure fire strategy in catching them on our large 43 acre farm. I also knew these two horses “always” read my mind. Trying to clear my “thoughts” of happily riding, I pretended to go through the motions of feeding. I was greeted with happy nickers until they caught sight of the lead ropes dangling over my shoulder. Max looked at Boston, Boston looked at Max and off they thundered. My audible sigh cut the air as I marched across our farm to another pasture in which they now resided. Now trudging through knee high grass, my thoughts turned to watching for snakes. “Oh great!” I JUST realized my thoughts most likely summoned a slithery friend. Scratch that, no snakes.
The two outlaws stood huddled beneath trees on the 43rd acre of the farm. As I reached them, they dropped their heads in shame. As I began to navigate over fallen branches and taller grass, now thinking I had even less time to “enjoy” my rides, the boys turned on their heals once again and off they went. You have got to be kidding me. So easily I could have called it a day, but I was determined to catch them. Frustrated, I set off in the tall grass, my jeans and shoes soaked from the morning dew. After what seemed like an infinite amount of time, the horses finally “gave up” sheepishly nudging each other over their antics. Glancing at the time I realize the horses breakfast will now have to wait until after the rides. I quickly groom. tack up Max and head out to a nearby field to ride. I am exhausted and by the looks of Max’s sweaty coat, he is too.
And then something amazing happens. Everything falls away as the two of us become one. I relax and so does he. I take in the beauty of day, the endless butterflies playing in the field, my corgi Banjo supervising in the shade of a nearby oak, and the encouraging whinnies coming from the barn. It’s no longer about what can be accomplished in our ride, but just enjoying the moment. The stark contrast from just moments before seemed to lull Max into a gentler state, not one of defiance. He eagerly goes about his job, happy to receive my praises. Our ride ends with pats and horses cookies, two of his favorites. My other horse Boston now looking on with new enthusiasm as the mind he is now “reading” is a different one.