Horses and stuff

It doesn’t matter how long I have volunteered and worked at the stable, and I am continually amazed by my coworkers, and this time I’m not talking about the human ones.  They all come to us from different places.  Some are former show horses, some are trail horses, and one even used to be a cop.  He worked for IPD, he has a badge number and everything.  We have a mustang, complete with a stamp on her neck from the Bureau of Land Management.  We have a former Amish work horse.   There is a 29 year old Arabian that doesn’t look a day over 10. Then there is the public relations department…the more portable miniature horses that do everything from visit nursing homes to stand around at events looking cute to promote Agapé.

To the average person, a horse represents something that hangs out in a pasture, eats grass, and poops in the middle of parades.  But at my work they are doctors, best friends, caretakers.  Kids that don’t talk to people will talk to their horse.  Kids that hurt all the time or move can’t move freely on their own can sit on a horse, let him do all the work, and feel what it is like to get to point A to point B without a struggle.  A horse that would just as soon bite the living crap out of me will stand patiently for a tiny boy with autism that wants to know what her eyeball feels like or stick his finger up her nose or see if her ears come off.   I once led a horse who is usually a complete joker and a tease for a little girl one night.  I thought the horse was sick, as he was very quiet and alert and calm all through the lesson.  At the end of the night, before the lesson ended, the girl had a seizure on his back.  He stood completely still while we struggled to get her down off of his back.  I’m still convinced he knew it was coming the whole time.

Don’t get me wrong…they do stand around in pastures and eat hay and poop a lot and get in fights with each other and roll around in dirt.  But at my barn, they are undercover angels.