by R.T. Fitch, author of “Straight from the Horse’s Heart”
It’s Sunday, time for a break, enough news, pain and suffering. Today we would like to share with you a little piece that I wrote in the mid-90’s when we still had horse slaughter plants open in the U.S.. I had made a promise to our horses that enough was enough and we would do all that we could to put an end to horse slaughter in the U.S..
This is a time byte of a very special moment, indeed – R.T.
Excerpt from the book:
“Straight from the Horse’s Heart: A Spiritual Ride through Love, Loss and Hope“
I’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 north-east and its rays are setting afire the low mist that has drifted into our pastures from the corn fields. 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 house guests 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 back pasture’s 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 quiet whispers from me put them back at ease and the five of them returned to the task of eating. 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 not 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.
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Categories: Equine Rescue, Horse Slaughter, The Force of the Horse
Straight from the Horse's Heart 
It is early morning here in New England. My first read of the day. What a wonderful way to greet a new day!
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It comforts me to know that horse people around the world know what you mean. For me, I miss sleeping in the barn because Moose was afraid of the thunder, Tecs was not feeling well or Noel’s knees were hurting him. We comforted each other. Steady breathing, inhaling everything about them and knowing there was no place I would rather be was magic. You speak of all that I have lost. I still hope and pray that the people who hurt and kill these majestic creatures would have just one moment to feel what we feel so they would change their ways. Not beacuse they have to, but because they want to.
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The grazing…I graze with mine too. It’s comical to me that when I begin to pick the grass, they stop their grazing to follow me watching and waiting for their hand fed clumps of grass I’ve chosen for them, as though my bits of grass must taste better than those they choose. And yes, it is magic knowing there’s no other place you’d rather be than being with them.
Denise, I hope that magic returns to you. I remember what it was like to miss that magic, and I never thought I’d get to feel it again…but it came back doubled.
And I’ve made “the promise” to my guys for several years now. I keep telling them that soon I’ll be able to say that I’ve kept it….so far, it’s still just a broken promise
But I’m not as gracious in my heart as you…I no longer care whether or not the people who hurt and kill the horses stop because they want to, stopping because they have to works even better for me. I don’t believe they’d ever choose to stop. And I don’t care if they ever get to feel that magic. Truthfully, I don’t believe they deserve it anyway.
Thanks for sharing this wonderful story, R.T.
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You know, Valerie, I don’t think they’re capable of feeling the magic that we know. I’m not sure I believe that anyone who is comfortable with slaughtering horses would ever be able to change so much – to have enough respect for horses to even BELIEVE in the magic.
These are the people who make such sarcastic fun of us on discussion boards. Sneering at the “horse-huggers.” One guy asked me if I made hot cocoa for my horses before I tucked them in just because I differed with him on whether horses could feel EMOTIONS! And he’s a horse trainer! I feel sorry for the horses HE get his hands on.
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Hi Suzanne,
They can laugh at us all they want; we know who the lucky ones are.
As far as trainers, there’s a lot of excellent ones out there, but like the one you mentioned, there’s a lot that I wouldn’t want anywhere near my horses. When I decided my mustang was ready for training, it took me over a year to find one I trusted and who agreed to come to my place so I could be there for every training session. I figured he had already suffered enough at the hands of BLM, and he deserved only the best. It was well worth waiting an extra year.
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Understood. Very nice. mar
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A great cup of coffe shared the reading of such great and hopeful words. I don’t have the privelege of sharing my life with actual horses…just a crazy Poodle/German Shepherd who, while not offering the gentle horse whispers, is truly a wild spirit and would be at home with the mustangs, I am certain. Right now he is offering me his smiling monkey face all the while thinking of his first bit of wildness and trouble for the day. I don’t mind–he showers me with many opportunities for gales of laughter.
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Beautiful and inspiring. For a moment, I could hear the tune as well.
Thank you for sharing
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A smile needed, for so many weeks of fury and tears. Thank you RT. Beautiful. I made that promise too, five years ago. I tell them about everyone that is praying and fighting for them. They understand and they know.
Mine follow me around when I’m picking up grass or anything, they think I found something better 🙂 Lin
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Indy does that too! In fact, he follows us around no matter what we’re doing. My husband calls him Fido.
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Thank you RT and I pray to God you are right.
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Mr. R.T.:
Been there, done that and keep it up for my pals as much as possible. They are magnificent.
For those of us that take the time to communicate at the equine level and respect it for what beauty it is, becomes the pure joy in life.
When they trust you, there is nothing better in this world (well, of course dogs and cats come uber close) outside of a successful marriage, friendship or sharing in the birth of another life. By virtue of their size and ability that they let you share space with them is beyond belief. To be allowed to get on their backs is all the more testament to their sacred nature. Thank God for the horse. I wait for the day that the horse will thank the Great Creator for humans.
Oh, please horse whackers…please post and tell me horses are so much livestock like cattle.
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D, I think about this subject a lot. Why DO they accept us as part of their herd? Lead them around? And most of all, why do they let us predators sit in the position that “real” predators choose when they are going for the kill?
Ever since all this domestic/feral/wild debate has been going on, I’ve developed an entirely new and even stronger amazement. Horses are SO much closer to their wild roots that any other domestic animal. One writer called them “our most temperamental domestic animal.” And the genealogists talk about how “shallow” domestication is in horses. And we see with the wild ones how they can be “domesticated” to be a reliable mount and a great friend. Other wild animals are NEVER even close to being the same as their domestic counterparts. Only horses.
I’m not really sure where I’m going with this, but it seems to me that horses are what they are – whether wild or in your backyard. It seems so incredible to me there is really no REAL difference. We have not changed them in all these years because we didn’t NEED to. They were – and are – perfect. Maybe that’s part of what sets them apart from all others. There is just nothing in the world like a horse….
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Beautiful observation, Suzanne, beautiful…..
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I opened this to read earlier today and didnt get back to read it until now. Really enjoyed reading it and it has given me a great feeling of calm too. I am so glad that I am not alone in my feelings and thinking. Thanks RT.
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A beautiful, soothing way in which to end a day; a calming read.
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I go sit on the hill of my horse pasture and wait; soon 4 heads look up, ears prick towards me, and then they come, usually the youngest first, to find out WHY I am sitting in the grass, do I want to catch one of them to ride, (that’s why the older 3 are more cautious) but MAYBE, I have just brought some of those yummy red or orange things to give them and really have no ulterior motives. soon I am surrounded by 4 curious, wonderful horses, softly whiffling my hair, nibbling gently at the hands holding the goodies, careful to not step on me. Having my horses right out there, at my house, is a dream come true and the greatest gift of all. Those who don’t/can’t feel that way about horses are really missing out on something wonderful.
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You are making me very, very homesick, Jan.
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