When one door closes, another opens

There is no timeline when it comes to loss and grief. Last week, I had my last lesson with Tully, the incredible therapy pony. He was sold and moved to a new farm in Vermont. If you work in the horse industry, this happens often. Yet, it is still not easy to accept.

As an independent facilitator and therapeutic riding instructor, I lease horses for my lessons. I have chosen this model to keep my overhead low. Horse ownership is a big responsibility and includes many unexpected costs.

Now, I wish that I made an attempt to buy Tully. Maybe I did not try hard enough to find a solution? Maybe I need to change my model and own a horse? But, then I remember the most important lesson being around horses — they are on a spiritual path just like we are.

Meili, a new student, had three lessons with Tully. She, like all my students, bonded with him quickly. Tully took care of her the first moment he met her. Meili, who has neurological issues and is visually impaired, was tentative around Tully. But the instant she showed up at the barn, she announced that she was ready to go riding.

She had a purpose, expressing her needs perfectly. During this lesson, I did not tell her that Tully is leaving. I focused on the goal to help her build more core strength and confidence. I used a western pad and a surcingle with no stirrups. This requires Meili to work harder to stay centered and balanced. 

Communication is her strength. She is very clear. She told me that she did not want to trot. So we decided to walk around the beautiful Devon Glen Farm in Hamilton. We stopped and said hello to all the horses as she rode Tully. 

We went to Tully’s paddock and observed his two friends, Eddie and Soldier. We inspected his shed from a distance and the features of the paddock. We talked about home, friends and family. She spoke about her brothers and her home.

At the end of the lesson, she asked if she could take Tully home. I was confused. Did she mean her home? No, she wanted to walk Tully to his paddock. In three lessons, I already noticed she walked with more confidence as she walked and led Tully. Horses are not dumb. Tully knew exactly the situation with the girl and with his relocation.

When a door closes, another door opens. Tully passed the baton energetically to Valentine, a sweet Connemara pony. I have started to work with her and prepare her for therapy lessons.

Like Tully, she is up for the challenge. She is not as social as Tully but equally giving. She already will meet me at the gate prior to a training session. 

Tully and Valentine are on a journey just like us. We wear our horse and human costumes so we can learn what we need to learn. If we are lucky, we get glimpses of the light within. Tully and Meili shine brightly. 

If you want to learn about this spiritual journey, go visit a horse or schedule a therapeutic riding lesson with me.