I fell in love with horses at birth as far as I know. That is the only explanation for my lifelong obsession with my equine friends. I don’t know the first time I ever saw a horse up close and personal, but I knew love at that moment.

Those sleek powerful muscles propelling that brown and shite pain body over grasses with mane and tail flying out in rhythm. That warm breath on my palm from those soft black nostrils. The whiskers around a gentle muzzle tickling the bare skin on my arms, and those big ears that perk up, swiveling toward the sound of my voice as I pour out my heart to this powerful steady giant.

My students used to ask me if I actually owned any horses and I always replied, “No, but every horse I see is mine.” There is no question of ownership-at least not with papers of any kind. Souls connect and that is a much more substantial kind of ‘ownership’ for human and horse. I love to walk out into the pasture, find a good spot to sit, and simply wait. Grazing horses wander over to see what I’m up to and I

give them a friendly scratch, and then they settle around me to continue to fill their never-empty bellies. It’s communion- just being.

I’m not sure there is any better companionship to be found, than in that of a horse. When you are in the darkest corner or the fiercest storm, overcome with grief or rising in joy, that horse will see you home every time.