General De La Rey.
Things are tricky presently. The weather. The Job. And my horse is sick.
When shit happens, I am very good at reaping the consequences and assuming the responsibility. I'm really good at saying sorry. But now, I stand back and I ask myself was it me? Or can I blame the weather? Absolutely the weather. And I’ll come up with all the reasons why it was definitely and very obviously the weather's fault and go to bed and sleep soundly. Like a baby. And believe in Angels Sometimes I even feel Wings around my shoulders.
His name is Michael and he is very big and important in the Angel World. He’s like a Boss. And he is dead good looking. He rides on the roof of my car. He blesses my children. He protects the house. He guards me. He cheers me up when I lie foetally coiled on my bed and reminds me that everything isn’t as bad as I think it is. He doesn’t cook. Or do my shopping. Or pay the bills. Or get the kids to school and to sports on week ends. No. But he does protect me from policemen. He makes my car go invisible so I don’t get stopped. And sometimes, when I remember, he makes everything a LOT lighter. The trick is to remember to ask and imagine it. Bingo. And don’t forget to say thank you. And suddenly everything isn't quite as bad as you imagined it. You learn to Let Go.
Today’s one of those days when I need Michael. He needs to make my horse better. My horse, De La Rey, isn’t any old horse, you understand. He is one in a million and we have been together in other lifetimes. Chasin’ buffalo on green plains, probably. He is courageous. He has a huge heart. He is funny. He is tough. Strong. We’ve done some hellova wild rides together in country not fit for old men. Last time he escaped into northern Maasailand and disappeared for three hours. We found him 40 kms later. Unharmed. Not a scratch. He’s a wild, tough one. He isn’t scared of hyaena either. Doesn’t even stand up for them. He’s won dressage for me and carried me around courses of jumps all the way to the finish and won that too. He isn't afraid of much but isn't that partial to crows. They peck your eyes out, you know.
There isn’t another horse like him. I promise you.
He is sick. He is losing his strength, something I have never seen him do. This sickness is beating him and I am beside myself with worry. He is starting to give up. The weight is dropping from him and he won’t eat carrots anymore. Last night, I let him out to graze if he wanted to. He lay his head in my arms and sighed. The vet doesn’t know what it is. Angels are the only thing I can turn to now. Please heal this horse. Please take this illness from him? Please? Please? Please? I don't want to let go.
If my horse gives up the fight, I will too.
With Angels at my side.
I know he's just a horse. I know there are bigger more serious things in the world to worry about which are keeping all Angels flat out busy, especially a Boss one, like Michael. But to me, he isn't any old horse. He is my Soul Horse and he mustn't leave just yet.
So. If anyone is reading this out there, light a candle and think of a funny spotty horse on a little hill in Tanzania and visualize him better please.
Angels be with y'all.
Angels be with y'all.