Equine Rescue

Equine Whispers in the Night

Commentary and story by R.T. Fitch ~ excerpt from “Straight from the Horse’s Heart

“Feel Good Sunday” takes on a special flavor for me, today, because I am home with family and friends after yet another month of globetrotting half way across the world in an effort to provide for those who I leave behind when I travel.  And as luck would have it I will be able to share Thanksgiving at our southeast Texas ranch with our equine family as well; for this I am doubly thankful as my spirit needs to be recharged in the manner that only close contact with our equine children can accomplish.

So in preparation to set my mind right and to seek out an appropriate story to share I spent some quality, private time in the barn with the boys, this morning, so that my head would be re-calibrated; and as I listened to the soft munching of hay and gentle nickers swirling around  me it became clear that I should share a story I had written several years ago, of just such a moment, a point in time that is easy to re-create and to draw upon when living with horses.  With that realization I will set my jet lagged mind free and share with you a story of a like experience pulled from the pages of our book, Straight from the Horses Heart, and go back out to enjoy the company of the characters of said book minus/plus one.  Enjoy and keep the faith, may the Force of the Horse® be with you.” ~ R.T.


Whispers in the Night

Ethan's Soul by Terry Fitch of Wild Horse Freedom FederationI’ve been gone for several weeks, on the road, doing human things and attempting to meet the demands of others’ needs.  In traveling about we are surrounded and assailed by all that is human:  the machines, the noise, the people, and the unnatural mechanical noise that gnaws at the brain just underneath your consciousness.  It wears one out and deflates the soul, leaving only emptiness.  So, I welcome coming home.

Although the commotion does not cease, by being here I can steal several moments of quiet and reflection with the horses and attempt to bring the universe back into balance.  In fact, as I write, the sun is just pushing up over the tree line in the northeast and its rays are setting afire the low mist that has drifted into our pastures from the cornfields.  I can actually sit here and see the silhouettes of five large backs, bodies hidden by the mist, slowly moving in the east pasture.  They look like the smooth backs of a pod of Pilot whales, gently swimming through a channel to the sea.  Occasionally, a head surfaces as if to both take in air and to check out what is happening in the world above, and then back to grazing, drifting, in the mist of the early dawn.  Just seeing this and sharing it has pumped some life back into my spirit.

Last night, after our houseguests were off to their quarters and gently asleep and Terry had been zoned out for quite sometime, I quietly slipped out of the house and jumped the pasture fence.  I wanted a moment alone with the guys and, true to form, all grazing ceased.  Heads were raised in momentary alarm, but a few quite whispers from me put them back at ease and the five of them returned to grazing.  Actually, they returned with even more gusto than before, as the rule is that they can relax their guard when I am in the pasture.  I will take over guard duty and they can then devote 100% of their time to eating.

I have learned not to force thought, idea, or suggestions upon them at times like this.  In the dark, it is best to go from one to one; gently stroking and scratching and occasionally reaching down to tear off some grass as if I am grazing, too.  This seems to relax them further.  Once they were comfortable with me grazing amongst them, I listened; I closed my eyes, leaned up against Ethan, and turned off my mind.

I was both shocked and pleased with what I heard as this is no story of words of wisdom coming from my equine companions; instead, it is a note on happiness.  As I stood there, I could hear humming: a distant but stirring tune being hummed by those around me and perhaps overtones from others far away.  No words, no verse, no refrain, just a spiritually soft stream of gentle and contented humming that touched my heart.  Although no words were apparent, the meaning was clear.  It was clear enough even for an aging human to discern.  The humming was a song of hope; of happy things to come; a tune of love and outreach; and most of all, a song of forgiveness.

I pressed my ear against Ethan’s hairy shoulder to try to hear if I could detect his voice resonating in those great lungs, but I could not.  The distant song was not being heard by my ears, but by my heart.  Its clarity and texture was similar to the sound of a train, late at night, miles away, gently sounding its horn to all that will listen in the dead of night.

Making sure not to disturb their grazing, I walked to each one and gave them a hug.  I then headed towards the fence, the house, and the sleeping humans who had no idea that a chorus was being sung only several feet away.  I climbed the fence and, as I spun around to flip over to the other side, I noted that Bart’s head was ten feet up in the air, ears up and alert, and his eyes staring right straight at me.  I froze, smiled, and whispered aloud, “We are almost there, my friend; we are almost there.  Our promise to you we will keep; the killing is about to end.”  Bart nodded and Ethan snorted.  I dropped to the ground and went off to bed: to dream, to hope, and to hum.

It is such a beautiful song.

25 replies »

  1. And a beautiful story out of your beautiful book, R.T. I have a copy and it may be time for you to write another one.
    20 degrees this A.M. here in KY.


  2. Thank you. I had to say goodbye to my LadyBug tonight. She was my beloved Belgian mare rescued from a rescue ten years ago. I had to make the decision after she collapsed no longer able to stand on those stout hind legs, feverish, medicated, lethargic, and depressed after a 17 month fight to stay with us. I wrote her a letter and asked her to visit me in my dreams and so I go to sleep now waiting to hear her whisper to me one more time.


    • Elaine, I am very sorry. It is so hard to lose them. I just know all animals have souls and go to heaven and we’ll be with them again one day.
      Hugs and love being sent your way.


    • We are sorry for the pain, the loss and your suffering but be aware that as you walk your property you may catch a vision of LadyBug out of the corner of your eye and often feel her warm breath in your left ear.

      She is still with you in your heart, in your soul and will never be purged from your memory. You were both lucky to share your time together. Rejoice in your past good fortune as well as her’s.

      Our thoughts are with you.


    • Elaine I’m so sorry for your loss. Be comforted in the fact you made the right decision for LadyBug and she is at peace knowing how much you loved her.


    • Sorry to hear Elaine. These times are always most difficult. R.I.P. LadyBug.
      No more suffering and free of pain in heaven with all the rest……….

      Love your story R.T. I do understand so well… the need to recharge our
      positive mental state, that is the reason for having my horses. I get this
      often, by going out rubbing bellies playing with ears and lots of kisses.


    • So sorry for your loss but YOU know she will be with you always. That’s the way I feel about my Chico -its been eleven years (12-5) and hes here with me now. I know it. Just hold that thought & know you did the right thing – our responsibility to these wonderful animals.


    • I will join in the condolence and add I understand the pain, last evening we lost our prized gelding HVs Colour Me Special aka Kidd. He was an amazing ApHC, He loved everyone, was protective when needed, kind to a fault with our 5 yr old son, his soul was beautiful, his white leopard pattern seen from anywhere drew attention constantly. He loved western pleasure, halter, and was a ladies man, but when my fiance and my son needed him he was attentive, sweet, and always lending an ear to listen. He loved the cats, the dog, and had a special fondness for our miniature Shorty. He was from famed bloodlines and was raised by a completely blind mare, who herself was a cutting champion, but where he really shined was how he lovec and looked after my son. Playing peeaboo behind trees and laying down with him to rest. My son lost a great friend, I lost my love, the horse that many years ago chose to teach me from his birth that there was alot to gentle training and that he if I talked to him he understood every word, he even let me know Not everyone listens to horses they are too busy telling them what to do instead. He was agreived about slaughter, he felt something I cannot explain….deep in his bloodlines and pedigree were tribal horses, something amazing, you felt it being near him. I am sorry for loss. It is all a great empty hole to fill. Their hearts warm and beautiful, their souls so loving and kind. In your moment of grief I pray for you to have peace of a wonderful kind, our horses would want that for us all.


      • To both Elaine and cynthia I send my deep regrets that you have lost these great horses. They do leave such a hole that they once filled so magnificently..


  3. I read with rapt attention the beautiful excerpt from your book about the song of hope hummed late in the night. I have heard it many times among my equine family and also at other barns where I have spent time helping out, We call one of our friends’ breeding facility “The Healing Fields” as all with true hearts who go there experience a release of cares and a renewal of spirit badly worn by human cares.
    At this time we are about to lose our way of life to those who do not care or understand this. A loud screeching 4.1 mile motorcycle and car racing facility has been perpetrated in our very rural mountain environment by a greedy county. It serves special interests from elsewhere and a few greedy locals. Much like the slaughter plants do. A way of life may soon be lost and forgotten. Why must they take away all that is precious in life the way it was meant to be? Thank you for your endless fight for the very things that brought our forefathers here!!Bless those with like minds always!


  4. R.T. I can only say we must be brothers from other mothers. I too can hear the hum of tranquility. It’s been over a year since I had to sell my boys due to my medical malfunctions but I retained visitation rights (for my sanity) and it’s comforting to see them come trotting when they see my truck and even more so when I move amongst them and they are so at ease to continue grazing and never straying far. We are a family in the truest sense. Due to the price of gas I don’t get to visit more than a couple of times a month but the time spent is quality time especially for me. I leave much more at peace and I truly believe the boys feel the same way.


  5. Dear Elaine, I am so saddened by your loss, may you find comfort knowing you did everything possible,and also knowing that though she is gone from your sight, she will remain in your heart and can never be taken from there!!!!! or from your dreams , Memories and the the bond that was made can also never be broken, she stands by your side and will always be there with you ……. Rest in Peace Beautiful LadyBug…………………………… Thank You RT for the Heart warming story from your book, we all have made that promise to all of the Horses………. Soon Beautiful Mustangs and Horses soon !!!!!!!!!


  6. Elaine, you did well by Lady Bug, she was a lucky horse to be cared for by you. Restored to health and able to enjoy a quality life, escorted peacefully into the next.


  7. Elaine- Ladybug will always be with you in your heart. My heart is full of past four-legged friends and nobody can ever take that away.

    I also have heard the hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm


  8. my Deepest Condolences Elaine For I Too Know The Feeling When You Lose Your Friend. But Just Know That She’s Still With You In Your Heart And Will Be Waiting When It’s Your Time To Cross The Rainbow Bridge Along With All The OthEr Souls Who Have gone Before You. That’s What I Kept In My Heart When I Lost My First Horse. I Know She’s Waiting.


  9. I want to add how sad I am for the loss of the folks here-I know there are many who have lost a furry family member this year this was sent to me and I would like to pass it on-it can’t change the pain-but it does not hurt


  10. Elaine and Cynthia, I am so sorry to hear of your loss. With an old Horse, you know when it’s time. As painful as it is, you can take comfort in knowing that you walked that last mile with them.


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