
05/05/2024
Now here, it's hard to imagine them not.
Yet the reality is, it's been little more than a week.
Their lives changed forever when they first heard the choppers roar.
Herded into yards, split from their families.
Loaded onto rattly trucks, heads bowed as the world rushed past. Balancing on unsteady ground.
Then come the cars and people, dogs and cats. Water in buckets and strange food.
Unable to flee for the first time, limited by fences on all sides.
It's a miracle they learn to trust us at all, but they do, time and time again.
Some you already forget are wild, soft eyes, gentle muzzles, confident as they let themselves into our world.
Others are still clearly wild, high heads and dragon snorts. A lot of these guys will always have a piece of wildness and it's up to us to help them preserve it. To learn that they can still be free, that we can work alongside them, with them, so that they can have the best of both worlds.
Then there are the ones who still grieve. Quiet at a quick glance, but if we look closer we realise their minds are elsewhere. Ears back and eyes closed, unresponsive and uncaring.
Whereever they are, it is okay. This is not a race.
Watching everyone else with their Kais is a very special thing.
But for those whose horses need more time, who are terrified of this strange new world. Time and space are okay to give them. They struggle to learn if their needs aren't being met, and those include safety, relaxation and rest.
A week is merely a blink. Go at their pace, however slow that needs to be.
It's an individual journey, and we all must follow different paths. Just because yours looks different to someone else's, doesn't mean it's wrong.