---- Judy Ryder <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > >> "I want my horse to come with me, help me. I don't want to "do" things to my horse any more. I don't want to follow his head with my hand to touch him. When I reach out my hand to stroke my horse's head, I want him to reach out to be stroked."<<<
> To me, this is a really deep subject. When your horse *wants* to be with you, > it's different than having a horse that is just doing a job.< This is going to sound odd, but one of the most precious moments for me with Eitill was the first time I came off of him. We were by ourselves at a local park doing a double loop. We'd just trotted past where the trailer was parked, when a woman out walking stepped out from behind a tree ahead on the trail. It was windy, the leaves weren't out on the trees yet, and she had on a brown coat with a long white scarf trailing out in the breeze. All of a sudden, she was just "there" and Eitill did an abrupt halt. Next thing I know, I'm sitting on the ground infront of him, with my legs across the trail. He is obviously scared -- blowing and puffing and staring bug-eyed at the THING that has just emerged from the woods in front of us. (The lady had clasped her hands to her mouth and was just standing there, apparently sure I was seriously hurt.) But Eitill didn't leave me. He knew exactly where the trailer was and was terrified, but he stayed right there. I got up and went to soothe Eitill, and then the woman started stammering "Are you alright?!? Are you alright!?!" As I rubbed his neck, and he heard the woman speak (Ohhhh! It's a HUMAN!), he started chewing and visibly relaxed. I reassured the lady I was fine, got back on and away we went. And despite my bumps and bruises the next day, I felt sooo good about that experience because I felt like not only had Eitill passed a "test" of sorts, so had I with him. -- Renee M. in Michigan
