Be My Place

Tumbleweed has had the last five days off since his vet appointment. It has given me time to reflect.

I was very proud of him at our appointment. He is great at loading and hauling, and when we arrived at the clinic, about a 40 minute drive, he unloaded and remained calm in the parking lot while we waited for them to come get us, about 20 minutes. 

A train went by. A stray dog popped out. Horses were whinnying from stalls. Workers were shuffling around corners. There was a lot. But he just looked, then relaxed and stood quietly by my side.

When they finally came to get us, they had us go into a new area they use for floating. It is a small room in a barn with a garage style door that was half open. Tumbleweed stopped at the entrance, I rubbed his head, and then he followed me right in and allowed them to calmly inspect his mouth before being tranquilized. 

I was proud because what I felt from him was trust. 

All this talk and effort towards getting the right feel, energy, connection, respect, communion—it boils down to wanting their trust. 

There is a verse from The Bible that I think about a lot, Ruth to Naomi:

 

“Where you go, I will go; and where you stay, I will stay.”

I usually think about it in regard to how I feel about my husband. Wherever he is, that is home to me. But lately I’ve been thinking about it in the context of my horse and how I want him to feel. 

I want to be home to him. His safe place. Whether we’re in the woods on some dark trail or at a clinic along a busy road or in the arena. 

It reminds me of one of my favorite psalms, too, you are my hiding place, you protect me from trouble.  

I love that one so much that I wrote a song about it some years ago on guitar. My plea to God in a hard moment of life. The chorus:

Be my hiding place. Be my hiding place. Be the hand that I can trace. Be my pride and be my grace. Be my place, be my place. 

I know what it’s like to be afraid and lost. Terrified, even. And I know what it’s like to find safety, trust, and security. 

That is what I want Tumbleweed to find in me, and if I have an actual goal, that is it. That’s what it’s all about. 

All Is Well

 

All is well that ends well. Turns out, it was a grass seed that embedded and irritated Tweed’s gums. They didn’t even charge me to remove it.

And he’s ready early for spring, with his teeth floated and vaccinations done. 

Day Before the Vet

Tomorrow is the day I take Tumbleweed into the vet to find out what is lodged under his upper lip. I’m a little nervous about it, not the hauling part, though we did have a “snow squall” last night. 

I tucked them all into stalls, and then woke up the next day to this. 

There is no more snow in the forecast, and it melted off today, so the roads should be fine. I just hate to think of it being anything bad. 

I didn’t do anything with them today except let them out and clean their stalls. 

The cats still entertain me in the Sanctuary.

Tuffy. Age 14 and 8 months.

(2/18/26)

(2/17/26)

Dan. Age 12.  (2/17/26)

And Grady. Age 12. (2/17/26)

The boys are all content to stay in the barn, even when given the choice to go out.  

I’ve spent the day taking care of my sick grandson and I seem to also be getting sick. I’m drinking lots of water and getting ready to make chicken noodle soup. I hope to throw it off before tomorrow. 

Oh, and I’m knitting a Seahawks blanket for him, which is almost a form of meditation. 

Wish us luck tomorrow that all goes well for Tweed. 

It’s All Coming Together

Miss Beautiful Girl with Leah and Tumbleweed. 

We got on it early today to get the arena smoothed out. 

Katie came out to put a ride on Tweed. He was 50% Mr Naughty and 50% Mr Nice. Eventually, he settled on Mr Nice. 

The horses think it’s spring, and since they’re shedding, they may be right. 

Life is good. 

Tweed is good bareback I am okay bareback at walk and trot on Tweed. My hope is to be cantering him bareback by summer. 

I looked through my old posts and found out I didn’t start him back to work in 2025 until March 26. This year, January 24th. (Thank you Mother Nature) 

We’re so far ahead, and getting our groove down, that I have high hopes for our 2026 trail riding season. 

The connection, or communion, the work ethic, fitness, feel—the pieces are all coming together, day by day. 

Happy first day of Year of the Fire Horse. 

Every Day Is A New Day For A Horse

 

I simply cannot stress it enough, the old cowboy wisdom I got many years ago is true to its core and it’s even reiterated in Sacred Spaces when she says that we need to let go of past stories about our horses. The old wisdom was this:

Never hold a grudge against a horse because every day is a completely new day for them. 

We humans are the exact opposite of that, so it’s hard advice to heed, but I swear it’s true because I’ve seen it again and again. 

Mr. Naughty yesterday was Mr. perfect today. 

From the moment I went to get him, he had that soft, sweet eye, and he came at a fast walk to greet me. 

Walk, trot to canter transitions were smooth, so we only did a few of them and then mounted up. 

I worked with Leah today, too. I want to help her move as much as possible this winter and spring. She used to be my sweet trail horse and still enjoys our communion. 

We also did Masterson Method bodywork, which she loves. 

Before I went out today, I chose to wear one of my dad’s favorite cowboy hats that passed to me after his death. 

And you can’t make this stuff up, I had a robin with me the entire time I was out at the arena. A robin. ❤️

I love getting out there and seeing what is in store everyday, because every day is, indeed, a new day, and full of surprises.