Two sets of ears

Four ears

Sometimes they are so close they seem like twins, mirroring each other. Playing with both of them at liberty, I have seen them move together, running like water.

Just the other day I looked at Calais eating his dinner and I thought, what an odd thing to base your life, your livelihood around, horses, these living breathing breaking things. Odd, but wonderful. Horses seem timeless. They resist modernity, and no matter how much we apply new research and technology to how we ride and care for them, they will still always be flesh and blood, sweat and snot and shit. You have to forget the world to communicate with them, really be right there with them. They are always right there in the moment. That’s why it means so much to have them pay attention to you, to focus those ears and eyes and nostrils on you. All the battles with injuries and unsoundness are worth it when I get to play at liberty with Calais and after a lot of very flamboyant resistance, running and bucking, rearing and spinning, he trots in to me, choosing to be near me.

Two shadows

How much does it mean, to have a horse say in his own way, I choose not to eat, not to run, not to be with my paddock mate, but to just stand here quietly with you, my human. If you walk, I’ll walk with you, and keep pace. If you stop, I’ll stop too. If you back up, I will match your steps just to stay by your shoulder. It means everything.

Dorky rolling

Johnny: “Look at me! I am noble and magnificent!”
Calais: “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Thankfully, they also do dorky stuff like this, which keeps me from being sentimental all the time! I’m sure if my two boys could read, they would laugh at me.


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