Derina Pyles
Horse Sense
“Can you please quit inspecting me so closely Hay-Woman? You are stressing me out! I feel like I’m getting one of those prepurchase exams by the vet before you get sold.” Traveler backed his big Quarter Horse rump toward the corner of the stall in an attempt to get away from me.
“Me, stressing you out? That’s kinda funny coming from you, Traveler,” I said, my sarcasm unhidden. “Get a horse they said, it will be fun they said.”
I rolled my eyes hard. The last couple of months with my heart horse had been a big fat zero on the fun scale. In fact, it had been downright terrifying at times.
First, he had a colic episode that entailed a trip to the vet hospital two hours away and a five-day hospital stay for him. Once home, he had to have medicine administered every six hours around the clock for fourteen days. About a week after that cleared, he gouged his chest open while frolicking in the pasture. That resulted in eight stitches, a round of antibiotics, and another emergency vet call. The culprit was still unknown after many hours of scouring every inch, nook, and cranny of the field.
The straw that almost broke the camel’s back, that camel being me, happened only two weeks later when I arrived for the morning feedings and he came limping out of his stall. To my relief, it had only been one of his shoes that had come off during the night. It did require another visit from the farrier who had just visited three days prior.
“Wait, who’s ‘they’ and why do I get the impression you wish you hadn’t listened to them?” Traveler seemed genuinely perplexed at my statement.
“Do I really have to rehash all we have been through the last couple of months? If I do, Traveler, I may just break down crying right here in this stall. Right now, all I am focusing on is keeping you healthy and paying all these vet bills. I guess I’ll have to put off buying that custom saddle another year. Dang, I really wanted that saddle,” I mumbled.
“Oh, so it’s a Hay-Woman pity party. I get it.” he said, pointing his ears forward and declared, “Did you know stress can cause ulcers along with many other illnesses?”
“I do know that, but my question is, how do you know?” Traveler was so nonchalant about his statement that he caught me off guard.
“I heard the vet say it. I know you don’t think I do, but I listen to her when she comes around. My point is, stress isn’t good for you or me. Do you agree?” He could tell I was impressed, and he puffed out his grey chest, proud of himself.
“Well, yes, of course.”
I could feel the tension leaving the air.
He went on confidently, “Would God want you to feel stressed about things that we have no control over? Or would he want you to live every day focusing on our blessings and His love for us?”
“That’s easy to answer. You are right, Traveler. My stress level has been so high that I forgot to count my blessings every day. Thank you for the reminder. I am so happy you are here with me.” I said, hugging him tight, grateful I had him, and together we had our faith to help us navigate life.
