My horse, Herz, is twenty-nine years old. He has a chronic right front suspensory injury, it is one of the primary reasons he is retired. It is a spring ritual for him to take a romp and to re-injure it. Today was that day.
I told Herz how sorry I was that he was in pain and that his structural issues had led to his relatively early retirement. I said to him how glad I was that he is in such good health otherwise. I sat down beside him on a stool with my hands on the swelling to assist with the heat and pain. In the early years, I had learned how to apply healing skills to horses by practicing on him. Later on, because of our close relationship, it became nearly impossible for me to work on him.
Feeling inadequate, I did what I do best – simply loving him. Acknowledging this, I leaned forward and kissed him on his upper leg. He turned his head towards me, reached down and tenderly nuzzled me on my neck. The twenty-five years of love between us was deep and palatable. Contained within those seemingly few moments was a powerful gift of healing.