Here we are again, holiday season. The more of them I have, the quicker they come. It’s easy to come up with the normal platitudes, and I honestly am grateful for everything in my life. My dogs greet me with unhampered joy. Abby smiles, Calhoun wags ferociously, and Che seems to say, “What’s our next job, Mom?”
The barn cats never fail to amuse, and the horses nicker a chorus of appreciation at feeding time. The sights, smells, noises and quiets of living on the farm impress upon me humility and gratitude daily. To say I’m grateful does not begin to describe the awe of what I see, feel and hear in this very special place. Everyday is a miracle and a gift. The caretaking of the animals that so unselfishly take care of me, make humility a natural state. I have watched them be born, die, become healthy and suffer sickness. There is no excuse for pretense or putting on airs when all the animals want and need is our authentic selves.
I was reminiscing while thinking about this blog when it hit me that the horses I am most grateful for are not the superstars. The ones that brought me credibility, magazine covers, national awards, and championships are the result of the ones that taught me through my failures. The gentle warriors of my youth to early 40’s endured my seemingly endless learning curve. They put up with my intolerance, exasperation, lack of sensitivity and downright wrongness to gift me with what I know today. Don’t get me wrong, I am still learning, but my approach is kinder, more patient, and all about the horse, not me. So, on this Turkey Day I say thanks and give my sincere gratitude to the gallant ones that never stood for a championship picture, didn’t take a victory gallop, or jog first. These are the real champions of my career. Bless them all, and you who love your own personal champion on this day of giving thanks.