A Little Older, A Lot Wiser

It was the worst few years of my life. First, I contracted Lyme disease, which was so excruciating, physically, mentally, and any other way a person can suffer, that I considered suicide more than once. A parade of doctors told me I was delusional and needed a psych evaluation. If I'd heard, "All your labwork is normal," one more time, I might have landed in jail on assault charges. One doctor, who looked about twelve years old, actually twirled her finger next to her head and said, "You know, many times, these things are all in our head, Dear."  Luckily I found an integrative M.D. who knew a Lyme specialist, or I'm sure I'd be dead now. Then my best friend moved hundreds of miles away, and I missed her, our thrift shop adventures, two-hour lunches, and the laugh-until-you-pee fests. I was just beginning to get a grip when my Dad died at age 93. People say he had a good long life, but numbers don't exist when a loved one dies.

I married, divorced, and lived alone in a little cottage that I loved, surrounded by forests, ponds, and wildlife. That alone should have been enough to heal my heart, but it wasn't. I felt like a boat ripped from its mooring or a balloon swept away by an angry gust of wind. I knew I had to change my ways, or I'd sink into the quicksand of despair, but how?  

One day as I walked along my dirt road lined with mature maples, oaks, and evergreens, blended with the scent of pine and the trill of finches and wrens, hoping the hike would help. And it did, with an extraordinary encounter. I heard the slow clop of hoofbeats behind me. I turned and saw a woman astride a beautiful pale gray horse with striking blue eyes. I stepped aside to let her pass, saying, "Oh my, what's a beauty!"

She pulled the horse to a stop and said, "Thank you. She's a rescue; I hope she'll soon feel safe and comfortable around people again. Say hello to her if you'd like. Her name is Sky."

Sky took a few steps toward me, then hesitated. Her blue eyes stared into mine; it was as if she recognized our shared loneliness and pain. I said to her softly, "It will be all right, Sky. Most people are kind, and I know you'll be safe and happy now."

Sky looked as if she was mulling this over, then took another step toward me, and I slowly lifted my hand to her nose to let her catch my scent. She lowered her head, and I began petting her face while we experienced an ethereal moment. People familiar with horses know about such happenings, and I was starting to learn. 

The rider said, "Wow, she's never reacted to anyone like this in the six months I've worked with her! She seems so at ease with you!"

"The feeling is mutual," I said

Many believe there are no coincidences, only unrecognized opportunities. I am now among them because a few days later, I read a flyer on a bulletin board: OATS Offering Alternative Therapy and Smiles, a therapeutic farm for helping special needs kids via horses. I remembered how good I felt petting Sky and realized that OATS was only a mile from my house and might be the change I'd been searching for.

Clear blue skies, warm sunshine, and a hint of a breeze made the first day I visited OATS extra lovely. Large pastures lined the road where open fields spread out on either side where horses enjoyed the sun, ran, played, or grazed on fresh green grass. The heaviness in my heart began to lift.

I followed the signs to the office and stepped inside. A tall woman with long dark hair greeted me. "Hello! Welcome to OATS! " she said with a smile.

I asked, feeling slightly nervous, "Do you need volunteers?"

"We certainly do!" she said, "I'm Dorothy, but everyone here calls me Dot.

Can you be here Monday morning at 9:30?"

"Yes! I'm retired, so any time is fine." I said and started to ask what I'd be doing? Did I need any experience or skills? But she received a phone call, turned to me, mouthing, "Monday, " and handed me a form to fill out.

 I arrived at 9:30 sharp. Kids, adults, assorted chickens, and ducks all milled about, laughing and enjoying the day! As it turns out, this was their week of summer camp. I was trying to figure out what to do when a woman in pink overalls waved me over to a long table. A dozen kids and a few adults took their seats and waited patiently for instructions. This was a relief as I'd expected chaos.

Shirley introduced herself and said, "I'm so glad you're here!" and told me to give each participant a paintbrush and a paper plate. Next, we squeezed a blob of yellow, blue, and red paint onto each plate. We spent the next hour painting wooden birdhouses while laughing and chatting. I helped one young man named James decide which color to start with. I asked him what his favorite color was, and he said, "Black." We laughed, and he finally chose green. The next, a boy named Timmy handed me a drawing he'd done of me smiling. It's framed and hangs on my kitchen wall.

We had so much fun playing with paint, mixing colors, and gluing things together to make toys. I loved the total honesty and positive attitude of the kids, who made me laugh like I hadn't laughed in years. I felt like they were the therapists, and I was the participant.

When Camp Week was over, Dot asked if I wanted to continue volunteering, and I said, "Of course!" I thought I'd be answering phones or doing office work since I had no experience with horses or any of the many farm animals there.

The first day I arrived at the office, Dot sent me to the stable. Ten of us stood around a woman who handed us each a bridle and harness. Brenda, another volunteer, said, "We have 15 horses out in the pasture. We'll each harness a horse and walk them to their stalls, where we feed them and give them their supplements, then walk them back to their pastures, remove their harness and turn our horse loose. Then we return to the stable and muck out stalls, fill water dishes and replace their bedding.

I must have looked like a deer in headlights. I wasn't afraid of horses, but I'd never been upfront and personal with such large animals.

"Don't you have some paperwork for me to do? Answer the phones? I've never been around horses and don't know how to do all you just told me about." I said to Brenda.

Brenda addressed the group, "Raise your hand if you had horse handling before working at OATS?" Brenda and two others raised their hands. "And who is here for the first time?" Four of us raised our hands. This helped me feel more at ease, a little.

She patted my arm and said, "You'll be fine. All of these horses are rescues and very well trained and gentle. Otherwise, we'd never let them work with the kids. I'll walk you through it the first few times." This experience was WAY outside my comfort zone, but I decided to do my best.

We stepped into the pasture and closed the large gate behind us. I had a sinking feeling, literally. I'd stepped into a puddle!

Brenda laughed and said, "You better get yourself some boots!" Then helped me pull out my foot and then my shoe from deep, gooey mud." 

"Now, everything will be fine. Take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Remember, remain calm, and do no flailing about.

Great, I thought. I hope I can pull this off. I certainly don't want to freak out a horse!

She led me to a black horse named Shadow and showed me how to slip his bridle and harness on. It was much easier than I'd thought. She taught me to always walk on the horse's left side. Shadow made all of this easy. Brenda walked beside me as we returned to the stable. I held the reins tight, wondering what I was getting myself into. 

I walked Shadow to her stall, leading her around in it, clockwise until she faced the gate. I closed his gate and sighed with relief, saying, "Thank you, Shadow, for being so gentle!" Shadow nodded as if to say, "You're welcome."

Over the next few weeks, I learned so much. I'd arrive early and feed the chickens from bins in a small building. I knew to close the door as I returned the scoop and found three chickens in the feed bin. I gently lifted them out and sent them on their way. I would have been reluctant to pick up a live chicken if I hadn't seen a three-year-old girl do this the day before! I know to be careful of my toes to avoid getting stepped on by a horse. I no longer walk a horse near enticing fresh grass after one lunged for some and knocked me down! Horses love apples, but might choke on a whole one, cut them into pieces before giving them this treat.

I had so many unique experiences at OATS. A chicken walked up to me and laid an egg on the toe of my boot! The egg was still warm. I know that goats will eat anything, including discarded Christmas trees. I love the 'barn smell' that clung to my work clothes.

I felt joy again and regained my sense of purpose. I'm still amazed at how one unexpected encounter can improve a person's life!