When I dropped her off she nearly went ballistic… screaming at me to “stop the car” as we headed up the tree-lined drive at the beautiful “Equus Centre“. The tiny pony, born just last year and strolling along the fence, was one year older…. and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on him.
I dropped Bones off for a two week camp. TWO WEEKS. We’re one week in and I haven’t heard a word from her which shouldn’t surprise me as last year, during her one week session, I never heard from her either!
Bones’ love of horses began after a visit to my grandfather’s house in Newfoundland when she was just three years old. My Pop… a blacksmith and Ferrier… had a few wonderful horses living out their retirement in the comforts of his home. They were treated like royalty… adored and admired… and Bones learned quickly how special they were. From that young age no one could tell her any differently… she would ride, own, lease, take care of, nuzzle and love horses… quite possibly for the rest of her life!
At times they scare her… and when I ask if she’d like to give it up, her answer of “I’d miss them too much” is all I need to hear to take her to her next lesson, to visit another tack shop and to park my car on the side of the road whenever we see a field full of horses.
This week she’s taking care of them, riding them and swimming with them. One adventure after the next. Two weeks away from home where she’s taking care of herself… applying her own sunscreen, brushing her teeth and hair without anyone telling her it’s time to do so… bonding with other girls who love these animals as much as she does. Building confidence… in the horses she adores… and in herself.
She came home changed last year… she’ll come home different again this time.
It thrills me that she loves these beasts. Thrills me that they give her what she needs. Thrills me that my grandfather is looking down… proud of her… proud that my little girl is walking in his footsteps… adoring, admiring and respecting these beautiful animals. Just as he did.
And we did him.