My Boys

Once again, let me say how blessed I am to have my three wonderful boys in my life. They bring me joy and peace that cannot be found elsewhere. It is nice to have a place to go to feel free, to feel that all is right in the world and that I am safe and loved, a place where I belong and am accepted for who I am.

Last night I went to the barn to feed and spend time with my boys. I pulled in the drive and Tammy was there (she and her husband own the barn that I lease). I stopped and spoke with her for a few minutes. The boys were in the pasture grazing and within seconds all three were very much aware that I was there. They stood watching us talk and then started towards the gate. Enough talking to another human, they wanted my time. It amazes me each day how much they seem to enjoy my presence within their herd. I finished my conversation with Tammy and went to greet my boys. I say a quick hello to each of them and then give each one individual "mommy" time.

As always, Streak is the first.....he is leader of the herd and must be greeted first, put in his stall first, fed first, brushed first, turned out first. He is my "old man", my best friend and knows what I am thinking without my saying a word. When it is just the two of us, he rests his head against my chest and sighs as if saying "all is right with the world". I stand there with my face resting on his poll and stroke his neck. I spend a few minutes checking over him, making sure there are no bites, bumps, nicks, cuts or bruises. At his age I feel that no matter how small that this things must be addressed immediately. He has given me his best over the years and I must do my best for him. I give him so hay to munch on and then move to the next stall.

Nolan is next and is waiting patiently for his turn. I walk in his stall and am immediately "head butted". He must rub his head up against me as if he is insuring himself that I am there and all is fine. As he rubs up against me, I scratch his ears or his shoulders. I run my hands over him in a quick search, not as slow and thorough as Streak's check up, but none the less I make sure that he is fine, doctor his little booboo's (because he always has a nick or two) and give him a hug, some hay and head to Paddy's stall.

While Paddy is last, he is not least. He is waiting, not as patiently as Nolan, but he knows his turn will come. He circles his stall when I enter and then comes up to lay his head on my shoulder. I brush my fingers through his mane and breathe. Paddy is more complex than Nolan, he is a thinker where Nolan is a follower. Paddy reminds me of Streak when he was young. He gets a check over the same as Nolan and is usually blemish free.

As I spend time with each of my boys, I drink in their individual scents, their combined scents along with the typical barn smells and a sense of calming washes over me. The tranquility that these moments bring cannot truly be put into words. These are the moments that I know that there is a God, that life is worth living and that the world is good.