We’ve lived on our sweet little country road for more than two decades—which is more than twice as long as I’ve lived anywhere else. People who live on this road tend not to move once they get here. And their animals tend to live to ripe old ages. And the wild animals, because they’re left in peace, also live long and have become part of the finely knit fabric of this little community. I often joke that it must be something in the water…
In my daily walks over those two decades, I’ve come to know and appreciate most all of the 2-legged and 4-legged beings, and look forward to meeting up with them along the way. The 4-leggeds, especially, have become a sort of touchstone for me. No matter what else is going on in my life, getting to see them lifts my spirits.
But recently our neighborhood has seen a fair amount of change, particularly in the animal department. So when, for the past week, I hadn’t seen Bonnie and Mo out grazing in their field (a pair of sweet-tempered Percherons who were already several years old by the time we got here), I worried that the farmer had decided to put them down. He’s an unsentimental guy who’s never gone to any extra expense to care for them.
Cait started noticing that any time we were driving by, I’d slow down to search the fields for them. When she asked what I was doing, I explained that I hadn’t seen Bonnie and Mo for a while and that I wondered if they were “gone.” Cait feels the same attachment to all the animals that I do, so she understood the subtext that this possibility was very upsetting to me.
On her way to a friend’s house last night, as soon as she saw them, she immediately pulled over to text me.
This tells me two things. On her own, she cares enough about these horses to keep a look-out for them. And, two, that she cares enough about how I feel to know the huge relief this news would bring.
Life is good.