Tag Archives: horses as teachers

Don’t Fence Me In

My friend Carol introduced me to the term “manure meditation”. It is Carol who mucks out the pens at Ravenheart Farms*,  a wonderful equine assisted learning retreat centre and ranch she runs near Kamsack. For Carol, mucking out is a meditative activity. I agree. Farm chores settle me – in part because of the physical work and in part because I love working close to animals. On a day like yesterday, when spring arrives full force and horse manure is in evidence everywhere, “mucking out” is the perfect morning activity.

My late mum, Sylvia, taught us that the smell of horse manure is as wonderful as the tang of salt air or green growing things. When we went birdwatching as a family, Mum would roll down the window, wrinkle her nose like a bunny and go “mmmmm, the beautiful smell of horse manure”. What great early conditioning!! There is no question in my mind that horse manure smells better than most other any other manure I can think of.

There is another reason I am drawn to the horses this morning. Our daughter’s horse, Gatty, has Sweeney Shoulder and has been confined for a few months in a small pen, while her companion Missy can go wherever she likes. Shane and I take turns walking Gatty as well as massaging her, offering her healing touch or brushing her. This daily contact has been a gift to both of us.

I am learning to “listen with” Gatty, to hear the sounds of our farm in a whole new way. As a prey animal, Gatty is alert to each and every sound on the farm – the swish of pigeon’s wings as they fly out of the barn, the cry of the merlin or the moo of neighbour cows, every move of our dogs, the opening and closing of doors, the sounds of vehicles, the croak of a raven, the gurgle of water in the bowl. She does not like the sound of the sleigh full of manure as I move it from her pen across snow and ice. On the other hand, Gatty and Missy seem to love it when I sing, unlike every other member of our family!

I am learning to “listen to” Gatty. To pay attention. To pick up the signals when she indicates “enough already.” Or the lowered head, sleepy eyes and relaxed stance which tells me that she is soaking up the way I am touching or massaging her. The way she yawns and makes goofy horse faces and stretches her gums and sticks out her teeth means that she is releasing endorphins. She is my teacher, an exceedingly patient one.  I like to watch her graze, to observe how her beautiful soft nose guides her to the most succulent (dead) grass found in the pasture. Grazing on a lead is about as free as she gets these days. Sometimes I think she would give all her treats for a good roll in the pasture to get rid of some of her winter hair. It must be itchy!!

I have been thinking of the word “tethered” recently. In light of Gatty, who is “tethered” but also in light of animals tethering us to the farm. Throughout my twenties, my theme song was “don’t fence me in”. Untethered was my modus operandi. Free as the wind. Recently, with our children off on their own, we decided to stop keeping chickens and selling eggs which we had enjoyed for over a dozen years. We did this because we wanted more freedom. We hoped to be less tethered to the farm. As they say, “animals tie you down.” It’s true. They do. My experience this winter with Gatty has helped me understand that I also value being tethered – the company of she and Missy, of our two dogs and of our old barn cat (recently retired to the inside) adds depth and comfort and joy and companionship that I cannot imagine my life without. We are not entirely tethered because we do hope to go away this summer, have someone care for our creatures and return home to see them all again.

With Gatty, these days, there has been another kind of tethering – a different kind. One which most of us are familiar with. It is more like the invisible tie that binds, the gossamer thread of heart to heart connection.  Sometimes I think of her and it is like she is right there. I wait for the day when she can have a larger area to roam in. In my dreams, she is galloping, full steam ahead, moving with no restraint whatsoever.

Gatty - fenced in

Gatty – fenced in


the manure sled

20160306_102805 20160306_102844 20160306_102849 20160306_103005 20160306_103046 20160306_103104 20160306_105558 20160306_105601

Oh give me the land, lots of land
Under starry skies above
Don’t fence me in
Let me ride through the wide open
Country that I love
Don’t fence me in
Let me be by myself in the evening breeze
Listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don’t fence me in

Just turn me loose let me straddle my old saddle
Underneath the western skies
On my cayuse let me wander over yonder
Till I see the mountain rise
I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences
Gaze at the moon till I lose my senses
I can’t look at the hobels and I can’t stand the fences
Don’t fence me in

lyrics by Cole Porter

*Read about an art and horses retreat at Ravenheart farm