His swayed back so warm in the late
afternoon but he doesn’t lie down. His
shoulders bear his weight without rest.
When predators come, he can’t be helpless
to run, not that his buckled knees could
carry him far. He ambles in for his dinner
alfalfa, belly soft, and while the other
horses tuck in for the night, he shuffles
quickly back out, the gate left open for his
escape, a cooling breeze lifts the scent of
sage crushed as he drags his hooves, his
limp is much worse in the cold. The gelding
pauses, stretching his neck low, sampling the
dandelions and marsh grass. Turning his neck
to gaze through the fence, over the pond to
a watery stillness and the sunset in his eye.
…
Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Want more? Join us at The Barn, our online training group with video sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and so much more. Or go to annablake.com to subscribe for email delivery of this blog, see the Clinic Schedule, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.
to all the oldies, may we never fail to appreciate..and welcome…the gift of sunset.
Amen, Sandy.
One of the lucky ones. So many who dont have that kind of care.
He’s having a pretty sweet summer.
The picture and the words, so vividly bringing back memories of my first equine love not so long ago. We thought we were the ones giving a gift of true golden years to one so old & experienced but his last lesson as a wise old horse was to teach some humans just how special an animal they are. We were the ones who were given the gift and with it, the desire to pay it forward.
Inspiration to the end. Thanks, Sue Ann
This poem brings a tear to my eye as I watch my old boy from my window
Oh, Susan, aren’t we always watching from the window…
23 years ago my Dover was the young’un of the herd. Now he is the elder, having taken on the role of alpha to his band of 3. Blessed with a strong Qi, he loudly nickers as he approaches for his morning meal. I cherish that sound each day.
Wishing Dover a good summer.
Love the old ones. How evocative!
They are so precious. Thanks, Mary.
Very moving…not many words but powerful ones…
Thank you. Made me smile for all the old ones. Wish they all had a nice view and full bellies.
It’s enough, if you ask them… Me, I worry it.
My guy Andy is in his mid 20’s. Cushings and insulin resistance under control, it’s ringbone pain that dominates his otherwise healthy, shiny body. Each day he and I head out to the pasture, not a sound stride in our combined gait. And I tell him I love him. And I remind him to tell me when he is too tired.
Thank you for sharing your guy with us.
Mine’s a foster here and here he’ll stay. Give Andy a scratch from me. Thanks, Sandy
…the sunset in his eye. Perfect !
Hope and pray I will be given the luxury of watching my geldings grow old together, along with me.
Probably the finest thing. Me, too, Sarah. Thanks.
One of the best
Thank you, my friend.