My first love was a horse

Long before I owned my first border collie, I owned a horse. Actually I owned several and I still have one out in my pasture today. I love them. I love everything about them; their smell, the feel of their coats, the sensation of riding them and the look in their eye, even when they're mad. I love the way it feels when the truck sways after the horse you're hauling moves in the trailer, the sound of horse shoes on a hard surface and their nose holes. I particularly love their nose holes. The smell of alfalfa when you first break open a bale has been a constant in my life for decades and the aroma of a glowing, hot horseshoe fitted against a smouldering hoof still makes me happy. When I bury my face in my horse's neck and inhale, I'm 7 years old again, standing in the barn aisle at the Maybee Ranch brushing Tiny, the little brown mare that was my first horse. Whatever good there is in me has been deeply enhanced by the presence of horses and I simply cannot imagine life without them. I was browsing a friend's blog today where she referenced pictures taken by NBC News at an airport where horses were being boarded onto a KLM 747 for their flight to the Beijing Olympics last summer. The images are of equine atheletes placidly allowing themselves to be led out of trailers, quietly loaded into a shipping container, and then conveyed and hoisted onto a noisy airliner. The pictures reminded me of another reason why I love them. Their bodies are big enough to do damage, but their hearts are gracious enough to trust. Click the NBC link and have a look for yourself. The pictures of the dressage, show jumping and particularly the cross country events are more than worth the time and effort.