“There was nothing inauthentic about Woody.  I loved that about him.  In his world, truth was self-evident.  There were no hidden agendas, no fake smiles, no forced social cues, no pawns in some strange game.  Woody was pure and real and genuine, and our connection was the same.  I needed him more than I ever thought to know.  His reality grounded me.  When I left the barn, I tried to take that grounding with me into the rest of the day.”  

In January 2012, our eight week old babies were abused by a serial international infant abusing intra-species predator posing as a night nurse.  Two years later, I finished a book about the experience of fighting for justice for Kalvin and Grace.  That legal journey is half the book.

In December of 2012, I met Woody.  My journey with him makes up the other half.

I’ve always loved open spaces. I’ve always loved the notion of the rugged West.  But I never expected to fall in love with a horse.  Truth is, in my adult life, I never had any real interest in horses. They were beautiful, powerful, amazing animals.  But that was pretty much all I felt. When I met Dan, I knew he loved them so I learned to be safe around horses.  But I had no business falling in love with one.  I had no concept that a horse would teach me how to heal and live in a world in which evil exists.  I never expected a horse to guide me to an even more real, raw, authentic way of life. But horses just don’t lie.  Ever. And I love that about them.

More and more, I’m drawn into this world of living close to the land, of understanding animals and nature and therefore, myself.  E.B. White wrote, “I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority.”  I did an Outward Bound, I camped, I sailed, I hike, I ski, I snowshoe. I spend a lot of time in nature.  But interacting with nature through a horse is different.  It is interacting with our own nature, it is a breathtaking grounding magical experience of coming home, and yet, to a home I hadn’t known before.  I do know this: I am stronger because of Woody, I see more clearly because of Woody, I love more deeply because of Woody, I am more alive because of Woody, I shovel more but take less shit, because of Woody.

Saturday, we went to the Oakley rodeo.  Before Woody, I used to watch the crowd, full of blond families and faithfulness.  Last year, I watched the cowboys.  This year, I watched the horses.  I barely noticed their riders.  But the horses doing their jobs were simply stunning. The roping horses who run full out and slide to a stop as their riders jump off, then back up to keep tension on the calf while the roper does his thing.  The pickup men’s horses who ride next to flailing broncos and gigantic bucking bulls to help the rider dismount safely.  The horses are so powerful, so competent, so courageous. And yet so fragile.  I am humbled beyond words in their presence and in Woody’s presence.

Though Woody was ten times my size, it was my job to take care of him for the simple reason that he had placed his trust in me. He was the quintessential prey animal. Woody’s entire existence was about survival. But he trusted me, a human and therefore a predator, to approach him, to throw dead animal skin on his back in the form of a saddle, to lace more dead animal hide around his neck and face, and to put a metal contraption in his mouth to control him. Then he let me climb on his back, right where a lion would attack for a kill. He trusted me. The enormity of that gift and responsibility suddenly made me want to cry. It was my responsibility to take care of him and never break that trust.  Fear was not an excuse to abandon Woody or disappear. Fear was an opportunity to experience courage, to sit tall, grab the reins, and say, ‘I’m with you. I’ve got you. I’m scared shitless but we’re together. And we will get through this together.” There was staggering power in the commitment to lean in and stay together, despite or even because of, the fear.   That power coursed through me, and I swear I could do anything, would do anything, to protect Woody and the trust he had placed in me.

Woody introduced me to an entire world where bullshit doesn’t exist. It can’t.  Lots of horse poop, yes.  No way to avoid that.  But it is also a world marked by words like reliability, soundness, trustworthiness, veracity, authenticity, validity, and steadfastness.

Perhaps all I hope to say here is I am in love.  With the entire experience of learning about and living close to horses.  I am in love with the soft skin of Woody’s nose, the smell of his shiny brown coat, the hidden language of his ears.  I am in love with living in the west.  Of living where people stand and take off their hats and cover their hearts and sing the national anthem.  I am in love with knowing and living what really matters.  I. am. in. Love.

(Thank you baby for introducing me to this world. I love you and our life. And thank you Dallas for being my guide in this world, love you too girl! 🙂 )

Some pics of Saturday’s rodeo and my beautiful Woody boy below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my beautiful Woody.