Back story: we stopped at a little brewery out in the country after we cut our Christmas tree last December. While we were there, three lovely women in jodhpurs came in to sit by the fire with us and chill. What are jodhpurs? Only the kind of pants one wears when riding “English” or huntseat on a horse. Their very presence said “horses nearby”. I happen to be incredibly horse crazy although I’ve only ridden western and I haven’t owned a horse for 18 years.
Flash forward to about a month ago, same place, but we were sitting with friends. “K” was lamenting how she wished she could smell horses in a barn again and how she’d passed a lovely looking barn/arena on the way to the brewery. And – serendipitously – two of the same women came wandering in to chill, wearing their riding clothes. I made the bold move of edging in on their table and introducing my friend. We had a great conversation about horse rescue, volunteer opportunities, and “just come to the barn to see the horses”. My friend has an autoimmune disease and I hoped this would be a great low-impact opportunity for her.
Sadly, she never followed through. On the other hand, I started following the rescue on Facebook: Arabian Horse Rescue & Education. I kept forgetting to call to see if I could come to take photos to use for artwork, but still – I was following them. The other day, they posted a shout out for volunteers to help bathe the horses and my husband suggested I follow up on it. I messaged the rescue to see if I could come in at the same time and take photos and the answer was “YES!”
I was there by 8:30 this morning, camera in hand. Most of my photos are sketch quality only – just general outlines of horses & horse heads.
Arabs are so inquisitive and have such unique faces that it is hard to not fall in love with their profiles. I tend to like other breeds more, but even I fall for these gorgeous dish-shaped heads and pointed ears. They’re around 14-15 hands, which is not a large animal in the horse world. Intelligent, loyal, and sometimes a bundle of nerves, these particular animals have come out of abusive situations and auction houses (where the other bidders are from the meat industry – in short, they were animals headed to slaughter for no more reason than someone decided they couldn’t keep the horse any longer or they never learned how to handle it in the first place.
I haven’t got to the best part – her name is Amirah and she has the same calm persona my horse did. I had a little Arab/Appy that we passed on to a friend when we moved into town with the understanding that I could come visit Whisper when I wanted to. They kept her a couple of years before giving her away to an unknown party and I have no idea what her fate was. It kills me.
Amirah is thirty-ish, the same age Whisper would be if she is still alive somewhere.
This is how I met her. That battered old face hanging over the stall wall, just asking to have her ears scratched. She was waiting her turn to be groomed and bathed, calm, serene, and an absolute love.
She looks pretty amazing for an old girl, and a lot better than she looked when AHRE saved her.
I am fully, completely, irreversibly, in love. Best of all – she is so photographic!
I left after an hour, my hands smelling like horse (best smell in the world) and my heart full. I’ll go back. I’ll be donating to the upcoming gala to help fund the rescue. I am not in a position to own a horse right now, but I can foster one of these babies (or help foster). I feel like God opened the door for me to begin to understand what my mission here is truly about – at least partially.
I’m also very grateful to a husband who suggested I step out of my comfort zone, get up early, and just go.
I’d love to show off the new flower bed I created in front of the house, where I have planted my rose (which is showing no signs of life!), a Rose of Sharon, and left room for many more perrennials while cutting down the need for lawn mowing. Purple anemones, Vinca Minor, hens-and-chicks, above the wall, Lady’s Mantle and orange daylilies below, on the city right-of-way.
Jaci Dawn 