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You know that feeling of deep compassion when you see torn flesh on an animal or a person? A need to help and to empathize rises inside of us, making our interaction with the wounded a gentle and focused thing. A physical wound is so obvious. A physical wound has consistent, obvious needs and they are immediate.

Emotional and mental wounds are equally damaging, if not even more so, and need the same level of response and care. Yet often, these wounds go unnoticed, unattended and this can drive them deep into the core of a being where they remain open and hurting. They end up hidden from all but the one who is wounded.

Of course, a physical wound will likely include damage to the other embodiments, depending upon how it was inflicted. We think of the “whole horse”, the “whole person” when healing and we come from a place of empathy here at the Sanctuary. Empathy comes from our experiences and none of us get through this life without wounds. If you have never stubbed your toe, you won’t cringe and gasp when someone rams their bare foot into a table leg. One thing I felt grow in me, while caring for my Mum as she became disabled, was awareness of others at the market or in cafe’s who walked with a cane and the observation of those who opened doors and helped as well as those who were oblivious. When we have known hardship, we grow in our compassion.

In animal rescue, we see all fashion of wounds. The recent, either physical or emotional, wounds require triage and dedication. The “open wounds” are screaming for help in unmistakable ways.

CLOSED WOUNDS

The old physical wounds have healed over, have scarred and set. They might be quite visible or barely perceptible. The body might feel the reminder as a stiffness, pain or sensitivity. We all have our “reminders” of old wounds. The animals may have deep, hidden closed wounds and no way to explain to us that things have never felt quite right since an injury.

The emotional closed wounds, the old ones that have buried themselves in memory, are the ones that do not rise to the surface often. When they do, it is because of some trigger igniting the replay of an event that caused the wound and the feelings (no matter how much time may have passed) rise with the same intensity as when it all happened.

With people, we can talk through the feelings, reassure someone that it is not happening now. With animals, especially horses, there is no clear way to let them know they are not being wounded again. All we can do is make absolutely certain that we do not inflict more damage by losing sight of our empathy. If we can come to horses where they are, and listen to them, we can be a comfort to the wounded and through comfort and compassion, heal the deepest of wounds.

Two or three times a week, we feed mashes to all the horses (and mules and ponies!). Soaked with copious water, a mash can make the difference between good gut health and mild impaction – especially during weather changes when the horses might not drink enough water. Mashes are a brilliant way to add supplements, salts and, for us, the linseed meal that adds Omega 3’s and pulls sand out of their bellies. We live in the high desert; sand is a fact of life.

We use wheat bran for our base. It absorbs lots of water (cold in summer, warm in winter), provides needed phosphorus (we’re in a high calcium area and also feed supplemental alfalfa which is high in calcium), and horses love the taste of it.

The calcium to phosphorus ratio in an equine diet should be 1.5:1 to 2.5:1. Some people use phosphorus supplements for balance and some of these can even contain bone meal. Horses are herbivores and we feel that the wheat bran is a better source! The bran, combined with linseed meal (about a 4 to 1 ratio) makes a “mud” that keeps gut motility and pulls out ingested sand.

We have fed these mashes for decades, to all manner of equines, always with great benefit to their health. Mixing them is a kind of Alchemy (very satisfying!). Adding mineralized salts, probiotics, black oil sunflower seeds and our custom mixed herbal supplement means we offer a pan of good health and deliciousness without feeding composite feeds or grain, all of which are not natural to a horse’s innate needs.

We mix our herbal supplement (always with magnesium, Vitamin E, Vitamin B2 Riboflavin, fenugreek seed powder, anise seed powder, turmeric powder, red beet root powder, rose hip powder, kelp powder, burdock root powder and slippery elm bark powder); adding seasonal herbs to the mix for summer and winter.

Individual horses get herbs (uva ursi for renal system, cleavers for the gray horses and Appaloosas, etc.) and nutraceuticals for their specific needs. It really is the best way for us to maintain their health!

We have a new intake. He broke quarantine this weekend. “Teddy” is a sweet little buckskin gelding in his mid-twenties who lived on land that sold and he had nowhere to go. We took him in as an “owner surrender”. He is in good health for a 20+ year old horse – but he is very “over in the knees” and one hoof has grown way forward, probably to support that knee.

Our Veterinarian is coming to X Ray his legs and hoof. This will give us needed information for his care and hoof trimming. He is already on Vitamin E to help his muscles and the Dharmahorse herbal supplement to support organs, immune system and joints.

Teddy is a sweetheart. He is by no means “sound”, and we have Comet (bad arthritis) and Murray (navicular in both front hooves and a rotated coffin bone in a hind) who live as bonded pair. It seemed like a good idea to put the three of them on the small track system together. I felt that none of them were sound enough to harass or harm the others. And Teddy was excited that there were other horses around, feeling the need to be with someone else, I reckoned.

Teddy had lived years alone in an isolated field. Being with a small herd seemed a logical choice for him.

Usually, we put a new horse in the giant round yard to get to know the other horses (& mules) and vice versa. If we put Teddy in the round yard, I was concerned that he might get into trouble at the fence with young Pepper (who often gets too excited about a new equine). He would have no shelter… We had moved Comet and Murray to the small track and had a good team here on Saturday in case we needed help. So, I decided “why not just bring Teddy to the track and let him be with the other two” – it was different from our usual way of doing things… I found out “why not”!

Comet and Murray (especially Murray!) became much more active and pushier than I had ever expected. We quickly got Teddy out of there and rearranged everything! I could not believe what I was seeing. Murray (navicular and founder!) was galloping and bucking and leaping in the air! Comet was galloping (our feeding and healing programs work!).

Teddy went into Pepper’s pen/shelter beside the herd; Pepper went onto the small track system and Comet & Murray went back to their old paddock. It was good we had our remarkable team to help unwind the problem I had caused!

Granted, I know that horses need introductions… I knew better but was swayed by the notion that “three old geldings with soundness issues” would just be mellow with each other. Lesson learned. We all falter now and then. In my defense, I had no inkling that Comet and Murray could move so fast and be so pushy!

So, I apologize profusely to Teddy every time I’m near him. It really seemed like a good idea at the time. And now I know that Comet and Murray are much more capable than I suspected.

A lifetime with horses makes you aware of them each as an individual. Running a Sanctuary for horses drives that awareness into your very soul. We talk and teach about the “well of experiences” that shapes each horse (and human). Their experiences shape their expectations and responses (sometimes reactions).

A Sanctuary or Rescue rarely has the benefit of knowing an equine’s background. Things can be extrapolated from behaviors and condition, but really knowing can be a guessing game. You learn how to listen to the horses!

Even when you know some details (starved twice before the age of 3; abandoned in the desert; ridden until the back or legs gave out), it’s only a starting point in the journey to understanding. All horses come with baggage, just like we do. We must bend our methods and accommodations to suit each individual, rather than expecting them to acclimate to our expectations.

And you don’t have to be running a sanctuary to need this flexibility, all horses require our compassion and awareness of their point of view. It takes time to figure out the nuances of an equine’s perspective and needs. Horses are masters at hiding their vulnerabilities because, in a natural or wild state, being vulnerable can mean death. And while they all have the basic requirements of forage, friends and freedom (movement), some horses cannot function in a herd… some cannot function without a herd! Bonded pairs need each other for emotional health. Young horses need play for their physical health. Elder horses need movement to stay sound. Mares know when to wean their foals and newly gelded males need time to adjust to their new bodies. It’s dynamic. Providing for the individual needs of an equine is both art and skill, gleaned from experience and observation.

We have a bonded pair of elder Thoroughbred siblings here. They have lived together their entire, long lives. They also need to be in motion to keep them sound as each has had injuries that, if left to just stand around, will overcome them. We have a young mare whose double starvations as a filly have caused her metabolism to store every calorie consumed as fat now. Her body needs exercise and high fiber, low sugar/fat feed to keep her safe. We have a feral mule (older than we had expected) from a hoarding situation whose fear of being touched by a human is overpowering for her. None of these equines can be cared for in the same fashion as the others.

I think horses are also masters of resiliency. They can face abuse, neglect, confusion and illness yet rise to forgive humans and heal and go on, trying to figure us out as best they can. So, our stewardship, our husbandry must be customized to not only the population in our care, but to each member as an individual. That is the measure of our compassion.

Rescue is rough. Even though we are predominantly a Sanctuary, the majority of horses/mules we take in are “rescues”. And even after years of rehabilitation, healing and care, I still remember how each horse came to us – what they looked like, if they were in pain, if they were frightened. I always see how far they have come; but also know just what they have come from. Some days are harder than others. I had 2 messages today about horses needing homes (some weeks I get a couple of messages, some weeks over a dozen). One had been “rescued” by the owner and “isn’t working out”. Another was an elderly blind horse needing to be retired.

Each description of a horse in need can remind me of a beloved in Sanctuary… another Bodhi, another Murray, another Comet. Being at capacity here (for our funds, bandwidth and stated limit for our license) means we cannot add more. And that is rough. None here are adoptable right now. Room is sometimes made by the passing of a beloved elder and that hurts.

I have one horse on a waiting list. I would love to help this horse (who fits our criteria), but I do not want to be able to because of what that means.

I’m also tired of wasting my time. Five hours of waiting for a farrier who did not show up… working all morning making videos that did not pan out… things that add up when I have a hundred other things screaming for my attention (with deadlines). So, I do my chores and hope for a better day tomorrow.

Then, feeling defeated, I call to Teaberry at the end of the arena. He gallops to me at full speed, slows inside his shelter, ignores the hay put in his feeder and places his head gently against my chest. I am filled with his kindness, his awareness. He just stands there until I break the bond to move the hose filling his water tub. He makes me cry – but in a good way. He stopped my dwelling on what I can’t do or what I haven’t done yet. He makes me realize what I have done.

He rescued me tonight.

I awoke this morning feeling overwhelmed. There is so much to do before the end of the month. I started thinking about who I really am… what I do. I am Gita’s eyes. I am my brother’s legs and his strength. My hands are for these horses; to feed and care for them (battered as they are, my hands are useful). My brain belongs to this Sanctuary, to figure what is needed for the horses and how to pay for it. I am Mark’s partner in this life… to be kind and supportive.

My soul belongs to me.

My mind works overtime, becoming twisted by things that go on in this world that I have no control over. My Buddhist life should help me maintain clarity through the muddied waters of life on earth, but somehow, I have forgotten that part of my being in the daily monotony of caring for so many. Certainly, I know that self-care must be part of my agenda. We all know that we can’t pour from empty cups. Rescuers and caregivers have huge cups to refill… all the time.

So I sit under the pine trees and watch horses eating breakfast. Touching the earth, I hear her saying how she, too, is a giver of care, a lover of all life, a rescuer of souls. Are we not all connected by the simple act of being kind? To each other, to all life, to this earth…

I used to care more about what I wore, how I looked, how others perceived me. Judgement swirls around us from sources beyond our control. Others see us through their own eyes. Suddenly I’m struck with “The Earth is my witness” and though the perception of this Sanctuary is important, I realize that those who truly see what we do are the ones who know us. I will never again be posh. My life is too busy and too important to worry about posh. Being overwhelmed has to with letting extraneous thoughts and outside influences intrude upon the actual need and focus of this life. I need to stop doing that.

Who am I? I’m just me.