Through Our Eyes: Our Story
Through our eyes!
In 1998 I made one of the hardest decisions of my life: Leave the UK to follow my heart and dreams or give them up to stay with the one’s I loved. With destiny tugging at my heart I chose the former. Although difficult I knew then as I know now that it was the right choice; one that would lead me on a path to other countries, other ways of seeing the world and, in short, a whole new way of life.
One of the reasons it was such a hard choice to make was because leaving the UK also meant leaving my horse Carrie, a 10 year old Thoroughbred Irish draft cross. She entered my life when she was just 4 and I a young 21. In the 6 years we spent together we experienced many different aspects of horsemanship. From show-jumping and x-country jumping to dressage and trail rides there wasn’t anything we wouldn’t try. Training and working with Carrie was a treat and many times quite a challenge. Ultimately it was those challenges that inspired me to seek out and learn gentle training systems and animal communication.
My first glimpse into the world of animal communication appeared when I tried to find Carrie a new home before leaving on my journey. I left Carrie temporarily in the care of my good friend Helen. She would watch Carrie while I searched for the “right” person and the “right” home. I envisioned the person for Carrie to be a fit, young individual with a drive for diverse and exciting activities; a knowledgeable, kind and loving being who would let Carrie’s dreams rise to the stars. I had high hopes and expectations but every time Helen would find someone Carrie would go lame during the showing.
After months of trying to find the right place Helen and I realized that Carrie had, without our knowledge, already chosen her home. Her continuing lameness at each showing wasn’t a coincidence. Each time she was preventing herself from going anywhere. She was trying to stay where she was. Helen hadn’t been my first choice as she was busy with 5 children and a schedule filled with horses. I didn’t want to burden her with further responsibilities and yet Helen was the most compassionate and giving person I knew, always putting her horses first. Carrie had found her new home… with Helen.
As if in a movie, 10 years later, I got to visit my girl, this time not as the Police Officer I once was, but as the “Horse Whisperer”. I found myself becoming quite nervous to visit with Carrie, a feeling I hadn’t experienced since I could remember. As I got closer and closer to seeing her my heart began to race. Helen announced that the horses never come to the top of the hill this time of evening and yet there was Carrie with her friends in tow. I greeted my girl with open arms and tears running down my cheeks. She in turn promptly walked past me and stopped so I could scratch her backside – a privilege for the chosen few. I was honored and remembered!
At 20 years young, she looked the same, her mind as bright as the day I met her. She attended the course I ran that week and I felt just like a student, experiencing all those emotions my students experience. I watched her challenge three people during the obstacle course exercise, dodging them at every turn. I had never seen a horse outwit three people like this in my entire career but I knew that Carrie only listened to those who earned her respect. Despite being the teacher of the clinic I found myself proud of her actions and rooting for my girl.Later in the day, despite thunderstorms and hail stones, Carrie and I enjoyed a trip into the French country-side. She jigged all the way home, just as she had done 10 years prior and yet this time I just sat in the saddle and enjoyed the unconditional love we were sharing.
One of my reasons for traveling to France was to take care of some unfinished business with Carrie. On the last day I visited Carrie in her pasture to ask her forgiveness for all that I had done wrong in the past out of ignorance. Carrie came over and we shared some special time together. After a few moments of “pouring my heart out to her” she left, walked over to the electric fence-line, placed her head over the fence, and looked back at me indicating she wanted it moved. I guess the grass is greener on the other side!
I gave her request some thought not feeling completely comfortable moving someone else’s fence-line. Carrie promptly walked away to join her friends, while I went to investigate if the rods were easily moved and how this would affect Helen’s pastures. As I was considering this alteration, Carrie promptly walked over to the fence-line placed her head gently over the top again looking right at me, as though I needed further prompting. She then returned to the rest of her grazing herd.
I decided it wouldn’t do any harm to move some of the poles to create some extra grazing and once completed I called “Carrie”. Imagine my surprise when not one head raised, but all four raised their heads at the same time, turned simultaneously and walked over to where I was standing speechless, to promptly enjoy the new lush grass. If that isn’t evidence of interspecies communication I don’t know what is. Carrie had obviously said to her mates: “Watch this!”
I watched over them for several minutes before beginning my walk home, glimpsing back to my happy mare living the life she had dreamt. I learned many lessons on that trip but the most important one came just from spending time with my former companion. Carrie taught me to really live in the moment and although I had an undying desire to be forgiven, she had already put her past behind her, moved on and was enjoying life in France. There was no need to ask for her forgiveness for my ignorance. She had already granted it years ago.
Anna Twinney