Christmas  is the time of year that brings up thoughts for me on the idea of being  grateful. There are often so many confusing emotions surrounding this  holiday for  me and for so many people. We give gifts, we get gifts, we  think about those who have no gifts, and if we are honest with  ourselves, we are not always all that grateful. I like to show my  gratitude to my friends and family with gifts. That is part of the  holiday season I enjoy. That enjoyment, however, often runs thin in the  long lines, small budgets, and busy schedule that goes along with it. I  enjoy getting gifts as well, and though in some moments I am incredibly  thankful, there are many others that cause me to grumble as I once again  stand in line, returning the things I wasn’t that grateful for. Then  there is also the desire to help those less fortunate at Christmas, but  that also brings up a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. I find that an  important factor determining our level of gratefulness is this:  expectation. I  have been learning a lesson in gratefulness from an unlikely place.  Riley is a big, beautiful, brave, bold, and smart Belgian and  Thoroughbred cross. At this juncture I believe she is six years old.  When she was four years old I may have described her differently. More  like big, beautiful, bossy, smart-ass and possibly dangerous. The  difference between these two has come because of shifts in attitude,  relationship, and expectation. I believe that when Riley came to us, she  didn’t expect to stay. She seemed to hold out her level of trust until  she, and we, felt like she belonged. And when she began to belong, she  began to show her gratitude, and began to contribute. I believe also  that Riley needed to be appreciated. She is a proud, sensitive girl, who  can be easily offended by being pushed around or unacknowledged. Riley  has taught me this lesson because she likes to make it clear that she is  powerful, fast, and smarter-than-you, but that she also has a heart of  gold. I  have learned to be so appreciative of everything that Riley gives me,  and because of this, she offers more. My favorite past-time with her is  the catching game. Not because it is fun (it’s not really), or because  it shows improvement (I have yet to just walk up to her and put the  halter on), but because it is the ultimate lesson in gratefulness. Every  time I go out to catch Riley she leaves. Sometimes it is in irritation,  sometimes it is in uncertainty, but more often lately, it is in a big  show. Sometimes it takes three minutes, sometimes fifteen minutes  (sometimes I just give up and get somebody else). We communicate. She  shows me how fast she can run away, I show her how amazed I am. She  shows me how kindly she will turn and face me when I ask, I show her how  beautiful I think she is. And when finally I show her the halter, and  she sticks her nose right in it, I hit the floor. Every time. I don’t expect that I will catch Riley, but I am beginning to trust that we will find each other. Every  interaction I have with that big girl causes me to be grateful. When  she comes up to me with a sweet look, I am grateful. When she stays with  me on line in the yard, I am grateful. When she offers softness on the  rein, I am soooooo grateful. Yet with all the improvements Riley has  made, I do not think that I have begun to expect anything from her. She simply won’t have that. I have, however, begun to trust her, and believe in her. And I believe that she is grateful for that. Back  to the hustle and bustle, and holiday “cheer”. I wonder if we can learn  to approach life as Riley has taught me to approach her, how much more  joy we would find. Can we live without expectation, and find wonder in  whatever occurs? Can we be grateful to one another for even the smallest  offerings? Can we enjoy the moments by learning not to expect them,  like opening the gate and having the herd all step politely away, like  stepping into your office in the morning and it being WARM...or cold,  whatever....like coming home to a home. We  do not have to take things for granted in our lives just because they  are always there. We can TRUST that they will be there, and be grateful  for them. 
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
From  the moment that RG and Zeta came to live at the residential treatment  facility where I work, they were up to something. Much like the state of  equine program there, it was clear that they  hadn’t had some attention  for quite some time. But also like our program, that was going to  change. RG  and Zeta are a couple cute-as-a-button Arabian mares, donated to the  program under the assumption that they are “good riding horses”. While I  don’t doubt that it is in there somewhere, it remains yet to be seen.  What was  clearly visible, however, was the tangled mess of a tail on Zeta.  Unless she had been on a recent vacation to Jamaica, I assumed that it  was a result of the fact that she also  was not easy to catch and this was a clear indication that she had not  been handled in years. I have spent hours in my life combing out tangled  tails, because I really don’t believe in cutting a horses hair,   however, after we spent the time doing what it took to catch Zeta, I  grabbed the nearest sharp instrument and hacked that dreadlock off.  Surprisingly, what we found was that once Zeta was “in hand” she was  good as gold.RG  is another story. Friendly, sociable, calm and brave. An ideal picture  of what a riding horse for a kids program should be, except that we soon  learned also that RG was not very sound. She had trouble standing on  her rear legs, and then one day on my way out, I saw RG laying down and  sensed that I should go check her out. As I walked out to see her, her  friend was standing nearby, and surprisingly allowed me to walk directly  up to her and touch her. She seemed to say to me, “help my friend,  thanks for helping”. As I suspected, RG could not get up. Amidst the  hullabaloo of trying to help out RG, these smart, sensitive Arabians  accomplished their first act as therapy horses. They brought a group of  employees and administrators to the necessary awareness that caring for  horses is an important, and difficult job.A  curious thing about Zeta and RG coming to the program, is that everyone  seemed to have an interest in them. Its hard to explain the connection  that I have been feeling to Zeta, but I think that is what this story is  all about- their unexplainable draw.The second miracle happened the day  we went to test out Zeta’s riding knowledge. As usual we played our  catching game, and I was beginning to feel that Zeta understood me and  even liked me.  Zeta was, as I expected, a good girl when it came to  saddling, however I realized that her short Arabian back was not going  to like the saddle that I had brought up. Immediately,as if out of thin  air, up pulls the donation truck with a saddle that was a perfect fit  for Zeta. We had a good little session; I learned that Zeta would  definitely need some work, but was willing. Then, as we were leaving, an  employee stops by and says that she had a group of people donate a  bunch of stuff for the program, and that a company was going to donate  arthritis medicine for RG. Somehow these little horses have been sending  out their wish lists, and getting results.The  next thing on RG and Zeta’s agenda was an agency-wide equine therapy  session. The session was scheduled to be only for a group of 6 boys,  however, RG and Zeta decided that arena was too small for them, and took  advantage of the open gates to take the session to the rest of the  campus. You may recall that Zeta does not like to be caught, and it is  very possible that I created this very incident in my mind, as I had  worried about what would happen if they got out. After I was able to  control my panic and fear that they would take for the road, I could  enjoy the scene unfolding before me. If  you have ever seen Arabian horses run around expressing their sense of  freedom, then you will know it is a captivating sight. The whole campus  stopped and watched in amazement, many of them never seeing horses  before. I tried to solicit help from the bystanders, but began to  realize that they had no intention of getting near the wild running  horses. It wouldn’t have helped anyway, what I needed were people who  knew what to do, and understood how their behaviors would affect the  horses. Call in our Friday afternoon group members. The six boys  scheduled for a session came to the rescue, creating a boundary with  their bodies and controlling their energy to guide Zeta to a safe space  until she was calm enough to allow herself to be caught ( I already had  RG on the line).As  the boys continued with their session (in the appropriate enclosed  arena), learning about focusing their thoughts and paying attention to  their body language, the rest of the campus was buzzing about horses.  All of a sudden kids were asking about meeting the horses, and how they  could be able to do things with them. Kids who always thought they were  afraid of horses, had a sudden curiosity. Interest has been peaked for  equine therapy. In  my opinion, the value of a horse is not whether you can ride them or if  they can be of service to you, the value of a horse is what they can  teach you. These pretty girls have taught me a lesson. We have the power  to get things done, we just have to use it. You don’t know what you can  get until you ask. You don’t know what people will think about  something until you show them. You can make things happen if you want  to, and people will join you to take up the cause. Of course, it just  comes naturally when you’re as pretty as these two. 
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
  | 
| Predator and Prey | 
The  skies are very active this time of year. Flocks of thousands of  blackbirds swarm from field to field, roosting like black leaves on the  naked trees. Vultures circle endlessly, little sparrows and bluejays  flit from branch to branch in my yard. And my eyes perpetually peel the  air in fear to spot the arch-nemesis of my little chicken flock, the  hawk. I suppose this sudden seasonal activity is due to the need for  nature to prepare herself for the cold lean winter. The skies are full  of hunger. 
Though  I recognize that predatory behavior is a necessary part of natural  life, I have to say that I cannot think of a time that it has served me.  I am not a fan of my chickens getting eaten, the little rabbit I shot  on one of my first hunting trips made a meager stew, and I have a sickly  feeling in my stomach when I think about the sadistic joy on my dogs  face when she killed a baby bunny. We are far removed from our predatory  nature, buying our meat in packages and taking out our violent urges on  video games. But our predation leaks out in so many ways.
There  was a predator on the loose the other night. Literally. The predator  was me, and I was on Loose. It was a strange experience, as I rarely get  upset at Lucy, and I have learned to control my predatory urges well.  However, A few things were different: I was under the stress of  preparing for a competition. The competition was really not a big deal,  but if you read my prior posts, you will see how it tends to affect me.  We were also experiencing something called a pre-encounter environment, a term used when discussing prey behavior. This is an environment in which the prey animal is aware that there is potential  for predator attack. In other words, they feel unsafe. Using a bridle  is something new for me and Lucy, and as most things are when they are  new, you are out of your comfort zone, on heightened alert, and less  confident. The last thing that was different was that because of this  pre-encounter environment, Lucy began acting like a prey animal, which  is something that she rarely does.
Just  like when my dog’s predatory instinct to kill kicks in when she hears  the panicked squeaks of the baby rabbit, my frustration and instinct to  enter into a fight and win kicked in when Lucy became right-brained and  scared. All of a sudden I wanted to use force instead of psychology, and  everything I knew went out the window. In fact, at one point, my  husband sarcastically told me that I should just get off my horse. He  was right. I knew even at the time he was right. But is that what I did?  NO. Why? I was being driven by my instinct. And it did not serve me or  my horse. 
The  predatory instinct is a survival skill, based on the need to eat large  amounts of protein rich food. Humans are a strange species built for  both vegetarian and carnivorous diets, with skill sets that also serve  both lifestyles. However, being a social and verbal species, our  predatory behavior is not just about hunger, but about obtaining other  things necessary to survival- order, society, family, territory. It is  is what helped us become the beings that we are today. 
Horses  are a very unique animal. Not only are they a prime example of prey  animal: fast, sensitive, smart, alert; but they also have the qualities  that have made them a prime animal to partner with man: fast, sensitive,  smart, alert, brave, athletic, social. Horses are the only animal of  its size built in such a way to carry humans. In fact horses have been  our partners over the years in so much of our predatory acts. It is  clear that horses were made to be with us, yet it is such a paradox of  predator and prey. 
Aesop’s  fable tells of the lion and the mouse, a predator and prey animal, who  learn different ways of being because of a kindness shown. The bravery  of the little mouse who pulled the thorn from the lions paw is rewarded  when he is then face to face with the sentence of death at the claws of  his lion. The predator defies his predatory instincts and spares the  life of his friend, proving that a relationship can truly change  biology.
While  our instincts are opposite, our willingness to form a partnership  causes both species to be better for it. I’ve learned a lot from my  experience of predatory instinct the other night. And the only reason  that I was able to learn is because I am in a relationship with a  magnificent animal that deserves to be treated differently. I realize  now that cavemen must have been true barbarians until they encountered  horses. It is a special animal that causes us to see the faults in  ourselves, forgive us for them, cause a hunger and yearning to be a  better person, and be willing to learn and grow alongside us.