New Beginnings. A Thank You to Salvation.

This has been a difficult piece to write. I have been grieving the loss of Salvation. Stable name Humpty and the kindest horse I have known. I have been trying to find a way to put into words what he gave me and what comes next.

 My Instagram grid is full of small snapshots of time spent with Humpty. My heart and memory feel almost overwhelmed at the moment as I come to terms with his passing. There is so much to thank him for and I’m grateful that I was able to talk to him and tell him how much I loved him. I also faced difficult conversations with him. 
Standing together for a few minutes in the sunshine whilst he enjoyed the spring grass breaks at regular snack points on our hacks, I voiced out loud - how am I going to live without you when I can’t share these rides together? I felt instantly guilty and terrible for asking him when he had an unknown journey ahead. Humpty sent me back waves of reassurance and for most of the hack whilst we enjoyed the sunshine every now and then he would fill my mind with energy and possibility.

It’s hard to explain to a non rider how a horse talks to you - it’s an energy, a complex set of feelings, of ideas. Maybe it’s how twins connect. Best not to question and to simply accept the gift. The last week he gave me confidence and ambition, acceptance and curiosity, Whimsy too. We always shared that. 

I told Humpty my fears. Mostly he knew before I voiced them. Riding downhill. He took care of me. Riding near bees. He navigated us out of reach. Not riding again is a big fear and as I confided in him I felt ashamed and scared that I would offend him by thinking about the time when he would need to leave. He helped me navigate that too. 
My photo roll is full. Yet there were millions more moments not captured. There to be enjoyed in the moment. To be savoured. Out hacking I used to delight at watching birds in the hedgerows, busy about their seasonal work and perhaps play. Twittering away at us. Flapping from time to time. Enjoying the sun and glaring at the rain and the cold as much as we did.
Then my friend the Heron who I often spotted gliding across the pool by the bridge. One day I spotted him in the hedgerow and Humpty and I watched as he glided over the hedge and headed off to the horizon, maybe back to his pool and the shade.
I had a moment to choose between trying to take a photo to prove our encounter or whether to simply pause and share that space in the open field with Humpty before continuing on our way. I choose to stay still. I’m glad I did for that moment and countless others where Humpty and I were sharing the now. 

 Humpty was a fun horse to spend time with. Of course he enjoyed carrots, apples, treats. He also loved attention and pampering. He really appreciated new rug days where we’d swap out wet or muddy turnouts for fresh dry ones. He got to know his routine and loved the opportunity to taste test and review treats. One of his top choices surprised me because it was a firm favourite of my first pony. Not a bag I’d seen in a long time. It was gifted at BETA in the speakers goody bag and he enjoyed every one. 

The dressage arena was another place he shone.  I’ve written before about how crucial he was to my rider rehab journey. Looking back it’s hard to remember what it was like to fear a corner, a circle, any transition on the right rein. To gift me with my arena craft returning and my sense of joy and purpose is priceless. 

I often catch myself thinking about how lucky I have been to build partnerships with horses that seemed to echo the best parts of being with the many horses I have loved. Still love. Each horse carries that invisible thread of connection. That reminder I can love and care for an infinite number of horses. 
Humpty reminded me that he knew that I loved him and that grief and reconnection are not separate timelines. I had hoped that Humpty would meet my next horse, perhaps selfishly because of my need for continuity.  Perhaps to feel he approved or at least that he didn’t mind. 
It might be a lonely path, a lonely search for my next horse and yet in some ways his support of me is still with me. Comforting me when I’m uncertain. Motivating me to keep looking. Reminding me there are still new beginnings to explore. 

I’ve been incredibly lucky to build partnerships with horses who have shaped me and I know that journey isn’t finished yet.