Original Author Unknown

“It’s Sunday and it has been a good week for the horses with the dark-side suffering multiple defeats and currently in hiding collectively licking some very deep wounds.  But as the lost and confused wander without clear direction we move forward with purpose, dignity and truth as our shield.  It is important for us to look around and re-energize ourselves not only with the strength of our numbers and great diversity but with the clear knowledge in our heart of why we fight for those who cannot speak for themselves, the horses.

Below is a story that has been around for years and I have danced with it many times but each time I read it, edit it and tell it I am healed as it speaks to the core of why we are where we are in the battle to save the American equine, both domestic and wild.  We speak from the heart, we speak for the horse and we speak in concert with each other.  Keep the faith and thank-you for all that you do.” ~ R.T.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A man was riding his horse down a country road one crisp and clear Sunday afternoon.

It was a beautiful dirt road bordered by bountiful fields of wild flowers and long waving grass.  The flowers were alive with bees and colorful butterflies while the birds sang overhead.  The man was enjoying the view and the tranquil time spent with his long time companion, his horse, when suddenly he remembered that he was…dead.

He paused for a moment and realized that could remember every detail of his death but what rattled him the most was that it occurred to him that he had lost this trusty horse and life-long friend many years before.  How could this be?

But the confusion was lost amid the peace and tranquility of their ride.  So, together, they slowly plodded on and enjoyed each others company.

As they slowly walked down the road a magnificent, white, marble wall came into view along the left side.  As they continued, the long expanse of white was broken by a tremendous arch with intricately crafted gates of gold and pearl.  Once near the gate, the man could make out a small desk to the left with a well groomed gentleman seated behind it.  The gentleman was hammering away on a computer keyboard and did not look up from the monitor as they approached.

The man dismounted his horse and with reins in hand and his friend alongside walked up to the desk.

Startled by the intrusion, “Ah, Greetings” the gentleman exclaimed.

“Howdy”, replied the man, “Where am I?”.

“Why this is Heaven, oh yes, oh yes, we have been waiting for you don’t you know”, replied the gentleman.

“Do you have any water?” asked the man.

“Certainly,” was the reply, “just step through the gates and I will have some well iced mineral water brought right up”, replied the gentleman and with that, the gates began to open revealing a descending cobblestone road of gold stretching off into the distance and the sound of soft music began to fill the air.

“How about my horse?”, asked the man, “He is the one who needs the water”.

“Ha, you have to be kidding; there are no animals allowed here, especially livestock”, replied the gentleman and without comment, gesture, or hesitation, the man climbed back up on his faithful friend and continued on down the road.

As the marble wall receded behind them, the man on the horse came upon an old farm gate that looked like it had never been closed, no lock or latch to be seen.  There was no fencing and a neat, little, dirt road led back to a classic barn and farmhouse.  Behind the farmhouse horses and donkeys could be seen grazing in the brilliant green pastures and dogs played near the house.  Near the gate a farmer was sitting under a tree, reading a book, he looked up and smiled as the man dismounted and approached.

“Howdy”, said the man, “do you have any water?”

“Sure do”, the farmer replied, “right over there, up the drive is a water pump that you can use.”

“How about my horse?”, asked the man as he stroked the horse’s neck.

“Of course, there is a trough right under the pump spout for him and a tin cup on a nail for you to use.  Feel free to let him graze for a spell, if you would like, that’s quality Bermuda grass there and plenty for all.” replied the farmer with a smile.

The man led his horse to the watering trough and filled it with cool, clear water from the pump.

While his horse drank he filled the tin cup and walked back to the farmer.

“Thank you, kindly” said the man.

“Our pleasure”, said the farmer as he tugged on the brim of his straw hat in acknowledgment.

“What do you call this place?” asked the man as he took in his surroundings.

“We call this Heaven”, replied the farmer.

The man turned back to him and asked, “How can that be, the place down the road was said to be Heaven.”

“I know”, chuckled the farmer, “That is really Hell, it is by no means Heaven.”

The man looked at him in amused wonder, “Doesn’t it upset you that they are using your name?”

The farmer stood up, “Not at all…..they do a pretty good job of screening for us” he sighed.

“Screening, what do you mean by screening?” asked the man.

The farmer quietly strolled over to the horse and gently stroked his withers, the horse nickered in return and then the farmer turned to the man and said;

“Anyone who would leave their best friend behind, wouldn’t be real happy here.”

They both smiled, the man nodded, and together they turned and watched the horse refresh himself with the water.