My Horse Angel December 18, 2002
I remember standing with my surrogate parents, my new father holding me in his arms and we were feeding our horse, my horse. My surrogate mother was standing beside us as I reached over to feed an apple to this horse who’s name was Angelina, Angel for short.
August 8, 2002 vision about Angel
I had another image come to me this morning as I was waking, again in black and white. A small child of about one year old was in someone’s arms. I’m not sure who it was because the horses head was blocking her face. This little girl was petting the horses head. I don’t think the horse was that old, perhaps a yearling.
August 10, 2002
This morning the black and white images came again. The first one was a clear image, once again the little girl from the other day. This time she looked a bit older. She was standing in front of her horse and the horse was bending its head down to touch her hand. I think she was feeding it some hay.
I believe I was seeing myself as a young girl feeding my horse, Angel. Each vision I have like this one are all consistent: the location, the girl, and the horse. There are no variations in their looks, it’s like watching a home movie.
December 18, 2002
When I had this dream I remember thinking this could just not be possible. How strong would a man need to be to accomplish this? Whether it was possible or not its impact at the sight of Angel dying in this way was extraordinarily emotional and difficult to comprehend.
It was a sunny warm day like the beginning of summer. Everything was green and fresh, a truly beautiful day. I was in the yard with Angel when I saw a man approaching. He came up to her and took her by the legs, hog-tying her like the cowboys do to cattle in the rodeo. I am unsure of where I was when I was watching this happen, but I seemed unable to stop him. It was as if I was watching through my eyes, so I believe it was a memory.
I watched in horror as he picked her up with her legs tied and threw her down on the ground, breaking her neck. She died as I helplessly watched. I was about two years old. It seemed as if I was watching it simultaneously as a young child, but also as an older version of myself, so I understood what was happening. I cried out, “What did you do?!” but it was too late. As this young child I felt numb knowing something was very wrong with my horse but not capable of understanding who this man was and why he did this to my beautiful pony.
When I added this entry to my book I had to find out if it was possible to break a horse’s neck in this manner. I searched the internet until I found some footage and I watched as a rodeo horse broke its own neck while trying to buck its rider. It bucked so hard it fell on its side landing hard and fast enough to break its own neck. It was horrible to watch but it gave me insight to the possibility that if an animal is thrown correctly it could indeed happen.
This dream brought back a memory from my childhood after being brought to live in Calgary. I would have been about five years old, maybe turning six. I was excited that day because we were taking a drive to a ranch in the country, leaving one Sunday afternoon after church.
I don’t have much recollection about the day or where we went, just that it was outside the city. When we got there I was happy to see they had horses saddled up and it seemed we were possibly going for a ride. I remember standing near a stallion. It was so big and I was afraid of it because of his great size. A man I did not know, who I believe owned the ranch we were visiting, lifted me up and put me into the saddle.
It was such a cruel thing to do to me, or for that matter to anyone, no matter their age. This horse was known to buck its riders, had not yet been fully broken, and as soon as I was in the saddle it began to buck. I hung on for dear life, terrified. The ground seemed so far away and no one was making any attempt to rescue me. In fact, I was further agitated because I saw Duncan, Helen and the others were all standing there laughing as they watched. This was funny to them, watching my fear, struggling to hang on, my short legs barely able to fit over his back. I have no idea how long they left me on that horse, but it seemed an eternity. I have been afraid to ride a horse ever since, despite how much I love them and wish to ride.
A few years ago I did get an opportunity to go horseback riding with a work mate of Patrick’s who owned a ranch and had several horses. We went to her place one Sunday afternoon and there I faced my fear.
Although I cannot say I was completely comfortable, I did enjoy the experience and hope one day to do it more often, though if I never get the chance I can be satisfied I had this opportunity to face and conquer that fear. There is a gift here and I was so grateful for this woman’s help in allowing me to make that step.
Isn’t it interesting in these past few years there are programs set up that encourage ranch visits to heal from trauma based afflictions. These horses are trained to help learn trust through a relationship in caring for the animal. I find this to be a wonderful concept and hope one day I can participate in something similar.
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