27/04/2025
So, I recieved this video a few weeks ago. And it may not look extraordinary, but everything about it is. Particularly as it concerns the sweet one, Xodo.
Xodo is the grey horse. He's twenty-three. In the video he's playing with his twenty-five year old friend. I've been working with him for a year and a month. When I met him, Xodo was barely able to walk, and sometimes needed help getting up. The reason for this is because he has DSLD. The suspensory ligaments in his hind legs are completely gone, and have been replaced by scar tissue, which is a mercy because it's stronger than soft tissue.
Before I began working with him, he'd been retired for, I think, a year and a half, maybe two, and had been in a state of steady decline. A lot of professio nals that had been brought in to try and help, and basically just threw him away. I'm not throwing stones, it's just a fact of the matter. There are many more sad things to say about that, but they wouldn't be helpful, so I won't.
Because of that state of his hind legs when he and I started working together, everything physically, and emotionilanally was misaligned, but mentally he was very sound. In my way of thinking and feeling in the earth, the skeletal system is the physical body, the muscular system is the emotional body, and the fascial system is the mental body, and since the that was the only one that was sound, that's where we began. Soon, the emotional and physical bodies followed, and here we are, a year and month (of consistent work) later. When we began, his hind fetlocks were touching the ground, unless he was walking. Last June, his pasterns lifted, and have stayed.
Bodies are memories asking questions whose only answer is always right now.
He also has PSSM2, and now that his three bodies are aligned, he's beginning to gain and hold muscle.
For those of you who heard me talk about him at my clinics last year, this is him. He is a king to my eyes, a friend to my heart, and one of the greatest teachers to my mind.
I think it should also be said, that I don't do my work with horses, or live and trust life, because I'm afraid of death and dieing. All of the horses I work with will die. All of the horses I don't work with will die. You will die, and so will I. It's part of the process. But until that moment when the ability to experience what living in this life has to teach us comes to an end, why not keep learning how to do and be better us's unlearning how to be afraid. That's what Xodo, the sweet one, has taught me so far--because he's wanted to.
That said, I'm thankful to his people for trusting me and believing in my work enough to allow Xodo to teach us all about the hard work that goes into leaving room for miracles. My work with horses is my prayer.
I hope this finds you all well in the practices of life and horsehumanship.