At the end of a hard day our good old friends can pull us back together. Experts at empathy, they watch us out of soft, brown-eyed understanding born of experience. Often they are the older horse, long gone from the show ring, but key to the farm's ambiance and well being.
Their soft, shaggy coats never quite shed out due to Cushing's, and their top line sags a little. Their sand-papery lips tickle as they nuzzle your hand for treats, and you laugh. You hand over the treat, and they nod their head rapidly up and down, the horse version of "Right on!"
Seconds later, their muzzle bumps your hip pocket. Gentle but persisent, they win, and hidden treat #2 makes its way into their mouth. You laugh again. The day's troubles disappear, and that good old friend has performed his magic once again.
( Please meet "KC", about 25 years old, the special good old friend of a very lucky client.)
Carrot for thought: Priorities
