13

Monday was Cookie’s 13th birthday.
I had in my mind for a while, long before she passed, that I wanted to do a cake smash with her.
This was supposed to be her year for it…

Instead, her herdmates enjoyed her cake for her.
Seems like it should have been a bittersweet shoot, but it turned out to be great fun. ❀

Hubby offers some cake to Sable…

He mighta smooshed it into her muzzle a wee bit…being it’s a cake smash and all… πŸ˜‰

Ruby’s turn…you can see icing on Astrid’s muzzle…

That tongue…lol!

And then Hubby set the cake down, so all 3 could enjoy it at once…

Ruby:
“Y’know what I like?”

“CAAAAAAKKKKEEE!”

And then our dear sweet Blonde Girl had a moment with her friend’s halter…
πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–

Sharing for Wordless Wednesday with Comedy Plus, image-in-ing, and Create With Joy.

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The Thing About Heart Horses…

Last week, I read Anna Blake’s post on this very topic…
Heart Horses.

Initially, I had a very negative reaction to the post.
The angry monkeys in my head demanded their typewriters to bang out their thoughts…

And then I stepped back and thought about it all.
I came to this…

I have, since a month or so after bringing her Home, called Cookie my heart horse.
Why?
Because to me, she was/is/always will be the most special, most influential equine in my life.
It took a whole lotta *something* to get her and I together, and once it was done, there was only death to separate us.

So, does that mean my others…Ruby, Sable, Astrid…are any *less* special to me because they’re not Cookie?
I don’t think so.
They are who they are, and they are special in their own ways.

Sable is my accident prone, but rock solid, lean on me Mama I can hold you up, bombproof horse.
Ruby is my challenge Mama all day every day, if it ain’t my idea I ain’t doing it, horse.
Astrid is my happy Little Red who loves brushings and cuddles and forehead rubs and those rare times I let her lick me…dang that mare likes to lick things!! lol

They all hold a special place in my heart.

Unlike Cookie though, they were all pretty darn quick to come to the charm of The Food Lady.
Cookie was a force of her own, she gave nothing freely, and I earned every little thing she offered me.

When you have to spend hours on end sitting, waiting, leaving, and coming back day after day, to finally get a hand on a horse…
When you have to stand and wait in -30*c cold, hands uncovered because gloves are an unknown, to finally get a hand on a horse…
When you walk out the door one morning, after so many mornings like the ones above, and that horse calls and meets you at the gate…
When that horse drops her muzzle so you can gently blow and greet her…

So that was the foundation of our relationship.
Me being patient (for the most part), and her trying to decide if I was worth trusting.
And when she offered her trust, it was a high like nothing I have ever experienced.
How could I not love her a wee bit more than the others?
How could I not give her the biggest chunk of my heart?

But don’t think it was all pretty and rainbows, because it wasn’t.
It was hard work.
It was a lot of wanting to give up.
It was a lot of frustration for both of us.
It was her avoiding me for days on end.
It was a lot of heartache, as I wondered if I was in over my head (short answer? yes).
There was mud and blood(mostly mine) and bruises(also mine) and shit…and tears.
It was a lot of days ending in tears.

Oh, but those days, few and far between in the beginning, when she’d let slip some normal horse behaviour, or she’d show me a cheeky moment (nibbling my braid was a favorite), or she’d just choose to stand next to me and be…
I’ve said it over and over…it was like she was my dealer, and those bits of trust she let slip were the crack I lived for.

Yeah.
She was, and always will be, my Heart Horse.
There will never be another one like her.
And y’know what?
I’m glad for that.
Because I know and recognize that, I can love others, give them a spot in my heart, and give them what they need, without comparing them to HER.
My love for her does not diminish the love for the others…any others.
And, quite frankly, loving a horse like Cookie just plain ain’t easy…it is…well, it’s exhausting

At the end of the day, I know the term bugs people.
I see the eye rolls, the little laughs, the snorts of derision…
My favorite (said quietly, but within my hearing) “Only fluffy horse lovers call any horse that…” implying that I couldn’t possibly be a real horse person.
Meh.
That’s okay, because, truthfully, people bug me like the term bugs them. lol
I’d much rather be with the horses.
(Okay, I’ll grant, some people are okay. πŸ˜‰ )
When I use the term, I’m not using it for others.
I’m using it for me…for her…for us.

And if that bothers other people, or makes them think less of me as a horsewoman, that’s okay too.
I’ve never much cared what people think of me, so how someone else feels about my usage of a few simple words…not my problem.

When I got back into this life of horses, it was for her:

❀

It was always about her…
To the horse world here, she may not have been much to look at, she may not have been anything more than a broodmare, she may not have been anything more than a number run through at auction…
But to me, she was the world.
My Heart Horse.

Aaaaaand….
Now I’ll just take the typewriters away from the angry monkeys and go on about my day.

Place in the World

Do you ever wonder about your place in the world?
Are you doing what makes you happy?
What you feel you’re meant to be doing?

I used to wonder…

Now, I’m pretty sure I’m right where I’m meant to be.

Let’s face it, if I wasn’t where I’m meant to be, I never would have had 3 days shy of 4 years with the Very Best Horse Everβ„’…

She made the best faces in this shoot…
I keep going back and editing images from it that I just love because they show her personality.
Like this one:

That tongue! ❀
Sassy pants paint

I wouldn’t have been in a place to bring this beauty Home for my Kid…

Hubby wouldn’t have gotten his Girl…


And who knows what might have been when Astrid needed a soft landing from her former home…

Not sure what’s going on with that mane, colour wise, but it sure looks pretty!

I guess knowing where my place is in this big wide world is pretty darn amazing. I’m sure there are people who live their whole lives never being sureΒ  where they belong.
I’m one of the lucky ones.
I waited 40 years to get here, and I ain’t going to give it up.
πŸ™‚

Sunrise, Sunset

Hey friends.
How are y’all doing?
I know posts have been sparse.
Sorry ’bout that.

We’re getting deeper into mud/puddle season.
Before we’re into full on mud season, we’re trying to move some snow away from the equine common areas, fill holes with straw, and make sure everyone has their hooves done. I really hate when mud season messes with their trim schedule… 😑

I’m still fighting my camera.
The urge to shoot has been…lackluster is the best way to put it.
And yet, I’m trying to force myself out into the farm yard with it.
Watch the side bar, because I’m trying to put up images on Instagram on a regular basis…or you can follow us over there.
Cookie’n’Cream Photography

In the meantime, the WordPress photo challenge for this week caught my eye…

Rise/Set

Ahh, now I do love me those early mornings, watching the sun come up and capturing the mares doing what they do best…being horses.
πŸ’ž

Paints in the morning sunlight.

Sable enjoys the warmth of the rising sun…

Cookie practices her unicorn poses as the sun rises.

Astrid

πŸ’ž

And those times I’ve caught them in the setting sun…

❀

Ruby

Cookie

The original 3

Hopefully, I’ll have more to share as I get out more and more with Spring.
Bear with me, friends.
I’m still adjusting.
πŸ’ž

Uncompromising

I won’t say
I’m uncompromising,
but
I won’t compromise
just for the hell of it.
~ George A. Romero

I love this.
I completely agree with this.
In my opinion, compromise is 2 parties *both* agreeing to give something of value, to have their needs/wants met.
All too often, of late, “compromise” is a word used to tell folks “sit down, shut up and do as your told”.
That doesn’t fly with me.
When faced with people like that I become uncompromising.
Obstinate, even.
But then, I have been known to be stubborn…a bit mulish even…
πŸ˜‰

Probably why this Girl and I connected…eventually.

Pair of stubborn old nags who had to learn how to compromise to get what we both wanted.
I like to think it was worth it…
I hope she would say the same.
❀

Midnight Calico Tree

There is an old tree in our pasture.
It’s rotten in some places, limbs have fallen down in wind storms.
Every year, leaf buds come and even the fallen limbs grow.

I love this tree.
It’s a survivor.
It’s not just my imagination, the beauty of this tree.

We don’t have many trees here.
We’re surrounded by grain fields, and a little scrub brush in our pasture.

This tree though…

This tree has been the backdrop for photo shoots.
This tree has been a prop in photo shoots.
This tree has been climbed by cats.
This tree has a hollow that one cat gave birth in.
This tree is the one Cookie hid behind when she saw something weird on the side road…it was me, walking Daphne.
This tree is where I go to sit in the pasture when I miss that Cookie.

It’s where I took her picture for her last birthday photo shoot…


It’s where I wanted to mount a 4’x6′ mirror for her next birthday photo shoot.

Instead, it’s where I hung her halter for the tribute photo shoot…

This tree is one of my favorite places to be…

πŸ’žπŸ’žπŸ’ž

Sharing with McGuffy’s Reader for Sparks:21, Aww Mondays at Comedy Plus, and Imag-in-ing.