The Wisdom Keepers

Reflections on love and healing

Horses are amazing wisdom keepers. They consistently model kindness, compassion, and boundaries for us. I’ve heard many mentors warn about anthropomorphizing horses, and I agree with them. That said, you’ll never convince me that they don’t understand our intent, have emotions, read our energy, and generously offer us life lessons by reflecting back to us our best parts as well as those we are meant to heal.

October 22, 2022

A couple of days ago, a friend of mine, Betsy, tragically and unexpectedly lost her horse and longtime partner, Freedom. He was found wrapped up in a fence by Betsy’s daughter, who initially saved his life by making a tourniquet with her sweatshirt and then wrapping herself around his leg to add pressure and slow the bleeding until the vet arrived. Freedom spent several days at the hospital fighting off an infection, and just when everyone thought he had turned the corner and was coming home, he developed laminitis (inflammation inside his hooves) in his other three feet and had to be humanely euthanized due to the extreme amount of pain and suffering he was experiencing. His sudden passing left his family heartbroken and their 27 year old gelding, Gunnar, alone and distressed.

Horses are herd animals and feel safest and most comfortable in the presence of other horses. Betsy’s neighbor brought her mare over for company, and it quickly became apparent that sharing space did not bring comfort to either horse - both were stressed, and the owners decided to cut the visit short. Turns out, Gunnar did not realize he was gelded a loooong time ago 🫣.

As Betsy was telling me this story, I could feel her grief for the devastating loss of Freedom, as well as her stress and worry over Gunnar’s wellbeing. Something started bubbling up in my heart and mind. I recalled the only time that Poco and Freedom had met: They were put together in a paddock at a clinic (with no slow, safe, introduction over the fence). Usually when horses first meet, there are at least a few fireworks as they sort out who’s in charge - but not with this duo! They immediately began to run, play, roll, and groom each other. They were fast friends, much to the delight of all of us present at the time.

Poco is an amazing, old soul (as well as a ball of goofy mischief) who literally gets along with everyone and brings joy wherever he goes, so I suggested to Betsy that maybe, if they got along, Poco could keep Gunnar company until she finds another forever horse. “I know I’m probably anthropomorphizing, but I really think Poco, if given the choice, would want to do this for Freedom. I’ve never seen two horses get along so quickly, easily, and adorably as those two,” I told Betsy.

If you had asked me before today if I would EVER send one of my horses, my family, to do something like this, I would have said, “absolutely not!” But Betsy is an experienced horse person; I had complete trust in her; and I felt strongly that this was the right thing to do. In fact, I was slightly scared he wouldn’t want to come back, as her farm is amazing.

October 23, 2022

I had made this decision almost without thinking - the idea came barreling in as if it wasn’t my own, and I immediately and intuitively knew this was what I wanted to do. But that doesn’t mean my thinking brain didn’t have an opinion. As I prepared to bring Poco the almost 2 hour drive down to Betsy’s, I was suddenly filled with doubt. Was I going to put undue stress on Poco by making this move? Was this fair to him? What if he thought I was abandoning him? What if he was a menace to poor Betsy and her family? I kept asking myself if this was the right thing to do, and each time, the answer came back with an unwavering yes.

I walked out to the paddock to get Poco, my stomach tied in knots of doubt and worry. He met me at the gate, as he always did, put his head in the halter, and walked confidently up to the trailer, loading like an expert. He stood quietly, alone on the trailer, looking out at me expectantly. Ok, buddy, it’s time to hit the road.

Poco seemed to know he had an important job ahead and showed no signs of stress or worry about the trip!

Unsurprisingly, just as he did when he arrived at my farm, he acted as if he’d lived at Betsy’s his whole life - not a care in the world. Gunnar puffed himself up and strutted over to Poco like a like a band stallion. He had just experienced a devastating loss and was very honest with Poco about his feelings of angst with this newcomer. Over and over again, Gunnar postured, squealed, and struck at Poco, while Poco stood quietly and carefully trying to groom Gunnar - clearly not believing his threats.

I had never seen this side of Poco - typically outgoing and playful, with a distinct and mischievous “little brother” vibe, he clearly understood that the assignment today was different. Gunnar would show aggression, and Poco would lean backwards away from him, but wouldn’t move his feet. And when Gunnar softened, even for a moment, Poco would lean in and try to groom him on the shoulder - it was one of the most amazing, most loving things I have ever seen.

Poco leans away as Gunnar comes at him, but he doesn’t leave. He is determined to show the older gelding he means no harm and just wants to be friends. Before long, they were mutually grooming and had the whole group of us in tears.

Poco was determined to show the beautiful, older gelding that he meant no harm and was there to help. Gunnar, a kind and sweet boy, very quickly began to believe him, and within 10 minutes, his tough facade had melted away. They became the best of friends, sharing hay and grooming each other without a single scratch on either of them. The whole group of us - Betsy’s family, my mom, and I - stood in silent awe, tears streaming as we watched this outpouring of love from a little pony looking to help a grieving stranger. And we saw Gunnar’s walls come down as he began to accept the friendship that was being offered to him. We all understood that we had just witnessed something special. By dinner time, Poco and Gunnar were nuzzling noses, and Poco was eating out of Gunnar’s dish (I believe that’s technically stealing, buuut no need to get into the semantics of “sharing” vs. stealing).

Poco says, “I’m IN!” Ten minutes after meeting, Poco and Gunnar were mutually grooming one another and standing quietly together.

Gunnar showing Poco the lay of the land! Poco may not want to come home!!

Poco only spent a single week with Betsy and her family before they found another horse to welcome into their barn, but in that short time, he left an unforgettable mark. Every day my phone lit up with texts and photos of him settling right in and making himself at home - stirring up mischief, stealing their hearts, and making himself part of their world. My deepest hope is that Poco not only helped Gunnar begin to heal from the loss of his beloved friend, but also lifted Betsy’s entire family with his charm and humor, softening the sharp edges of the grief they were carrying. Hopefully he also learned a thing or two about manners from his distinguished, older companion, but let’s face it...probably not.

There were lessons in this experience for me, too. On that very first day, I watched Poco stand his ground in the face of aggression with the quietest kind of strength. He did not flee, and even more striking, he did not fight back. He simply waited, steady and present, offering only love and support in the face of violent threats.

Wow. How many of us can say we’ve met hostility with that kind of patience, compassion, and loving kindness? What would our world look like if we did? If we could see beyond the masks of rage to embrace the grief, sorrow, loss, or fear underneath? If we could turn toward anger with clarity and gentleness, instead of mirroring it back?

I certainly haven’t mastered this (at all…yet), but I can promise you - I’m trying. I’m learning. I’m a work in progress.

My love, respect, and awe for this little pony are beyond measure. Yes, he can be “too much” at times - too close, too mouthy, too pushy, too nosy - but when I think about the hardships he has faced in his young life, his resilience both humbles and inspires me. His willingness to forgive, to trust, and to love again is nothing short of remarkable. He holds within him a type of wisdom that can only be described as The Truth - the depth of which I’m just beginning to understand. Above all, Poco has taught me this: that love - always love, with a splash of humor - is what makes life worth living, no matter what trials we face.