A little over a year ago, I was involved in a car accident that almost took my life. I woke up in the hospital and came to realize my life would take a dramatic change in direction. I came to find out that I had a punctured lung, ruptured bladder and two bleeds in my head. A broken left arm, seven broken ribs, four pelvic fractures, a broken hip and a broken sacrum. Ride a horse???? Not for a long time, if again. Ten days later, I was home and made the decision to sell Percheron gelding. He was more horse than I would be able to handle and I had no idea if I would ride again.. Gratefully, the original owner was more than happy to take him back, since he had only been sold due to uncontrollable circumstances.
As I recovered from my injuries, I settled with not having horses in my life anymore. Three months later, I learned to walk again. Six months later, I wanted nothing to do with horses. Nine months later, I dealt with nightmares, panic, and fear, compliments of post traumatic stress syndrome. And still, nothing in me wanted to have anything to do with horses. At one year, I was grateful to be alive, to walk, and to God for his healing power that led to a complete recovery. No more nightmares, no more panic, not even a limp.
A few weeks later, I woke up one morning and realized, I wanted a horse. Not just wanted one, but had to have one. Horses had always been a part of my life, and suddenly, I felt an emptiness knowing my life did not include them. I didn’t even care if I ever rode again, my love for horses was far deeper than that. I started my search via paper and internet. I found exactly what I wanted in south Georgia. Made arrangements, grabbed a friend, and off we went to see my new filly.
Several hours later, we found ourselves heading back to Atlanta. The filly couldn’t even track straight, and resembled a duck paddling on the front end. She all but clipped herself with every stride in the rear. My heart sunk. I pulled out a piece of paper I had jotted down on: ‘ yearly filly, Dasani., Brooks, Georgia’ and a phone number. Grasping for a little hope, I called the number. The owner replied: “Yes, I still have her, but have all but decided to keep her, I’m not even actively advertising, how did you find me?” I giggled as I thought, “the internet and a little help from above.”
A short while later, we arrived, I spotted Dasani in the pasture, I pointed and said to my friend, “there she is”. She asked me “How do you know which one is the filly?”. I replied, “Look at how feminine she is, that has to be her.” We barely were able to get a good look, all the horses wanted to climb in our pockets and nuzzle us. We put Dasani in the arena, and off she went, floating across the ground. You gotta love a horse that can do that and track straight. Not to mention, she was like a big cuddly stuffed animal; a scratch here, a rub there, and she was your friend forever.
Sharon was torn, she wanted to keep a foal from her primary riding mare and that would have to be Dasani, or the foal her mare was currently carrying. I pictured Dasani trotting through the arena and stated, “I’m sorry, but I want your filly”. We talked about the way things happen and how God guides your path even when you aren’t aware of his intervention. I just happen to be looking for a filly, I just happened to come across the Brookstone Farms website, I just happened to jot down a phone number, I just happened to call, Sharon just happened to be home, and she happened to be willing to let me give Dasani a home. Again my faith was reaffirmed. Nothing ever just happens, there is a plan, we just always don’t know where it will lead us.
So, Sharon and I decided things happen for a reason and God had put the two of us into each others lives for a reason. Shortly thereafter, Dasani came to live in Hiram, Georgia.
As she stepped off the trailer, she looked around at the people, and continued to check out her new home. A whiney came from the barn, and off she went, as if to say, “Oh, there are horses here, then I will be just fine.” She feel in love with a paint gelding who needed a friend, and he fell in love with her. Two days after her arrival, the paint went lame, stall rest for two weeks. Dasani went out to pasture with a palomino gelding that night. The next day, the owner of the palomino changed him to daytime turnout. That night Dasani went out with a Percheron gelding, much bigger to say the least. Not once was she unwilling to make new friends, and not once did she come in from the pasture marked up. It was then I realized how extraordinary her temperament must be to walk off a trailer and be content to switch pasture buddies three nights in a row. She has since been returned to pasture with the paint gelding, and gets loads of enjoyment out of coercing him to run and play like a yearly does.
She continues to be that big, sweet, cuddly stuffed animal (although growing by the minute). I love to clean her stall with her there so she can nuzzle me and sniff my neck and hair. I have yet to see her show any signs of unwillingness, and her curiosity makes training easy and enjoyable.
I still have a year before she can be ridden, and I think I’ll be ready to ride again when the time comes. I know Dasani will take care of me and be patient as I return to the saddle.
Thank you Sharon for having faith and being a part of filling my emptiness.