When in doubt... get more pets...

So I won't lie, when the crazy part of my brain whispered "you should get a cat" every rational part of my brain threw up red flags. You can't get a cat, you have a big fluffy white dog, whom you love, who has a super high prey drive.

Literally my brain began scrolling through all the reasons that it was a horrible idea - the crazy side of me kept whispering "but maybe it will be okay... get a cat..."

So I did it, against the rational and generally smarter part of my brain. Me and the crazy half roped my enabler friend Melissa into coming with us to get a cat (yes I feel like the crazy part of my brain is it's own character) enter Arthur.

This tiny black ball of wild fluff, he's funny and sweet and the PERFECT magnet for an Akita with a high prey drive. Anyways I went into it thinking - if this doesn't work Arthur will have to find a new home. Well a couple days of having him around was enough to know the little fluff was gonna be sticking around and the big fluff would have to figure out how to deal with it.

Anyways I won't lie about after the first week of Arthur being completely segregated to the spare room, I wasn't sure how the two animals would ever co-exist. I felt split in two, the one side with the unwavering loyalty to the dog I've loved for over ten years who would always come first, and the other half to this tiny little life that I'd committed to take care of and love.  It was awful.

Fast forward to now, a month into being a cat and a dog owner. over the past couple days I watched my 100lb dog continue to show great restraint with the tiny little 5lb kitten who insists on springing at her and wrapping himself around her legs (yes he loves her), yesterday I even had the courage to let them hang out without muzzling Briar (for Arthur's safety of course) I could not be more relieved, and the light at the end of the tunnel is bright.

Proof that with some patience and a lot of baby steps, anything is possible.

Believing in Something More...

Okay so this is where I may lose a few people, but honestly I don't much care. If you want to stop reading this now go ahead since it's my blog and I do what I want.

So pretty much for as long as I can remember I've loved anything paranormal/ghosty/spooky etc. Now I say that with the caveat that I am ALSO a huge chicken who likes her sleep so anything TOO freaky and I'm done and can't handle it. Like I want to watch all the paranormal ghost shows but the minute it gets too instense I need to watch a Disney movie to calm down.

Where am I going with this? Well, it's all about beliefs. Now I'm a logical level headed person who has a wildly creative imagination and can't just believe that what you see is what you get. I WANT to believe in ghosts and something beyond, because otherwise I find that just wholly depressing that you die and you're strictly worm food. Granted I choose only to believe in the Casper the friendly ghost-types. Malevolent spirits you can go hang somewhere else.

If something falls off a shelf suddenly, or happens unexpectedly I'm flippantly like oh we have a ghost. I am very sensitive to catching things out of the corner of my eye to find nothing there - although half the time it winds up being a chunk of mascara in my lashes or sometimes a piece of glitter.

After Dad died this really intensified my need for there to be more after death. After all where does all the vibrant energy and love a person like that go? Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, so it had to go somewhere right? (if you have a scientific answer for this you can just keep your mouth shut - no one likes a Debby Downer) 

I don't subscribe to organized religion, I'm certainly not opposed to people who do, I love the idea of finding something and putting all your soul into believing it - whatever that thing may be. Good for you people. However, I did grow up saying prayers at night (which in hindsight seems a bit weird considering how non-religious my family was, I'm gonna blame it on weird residual rituals from my parent's own childhoods)

After Dad died, there are a lot of seeming normal yet slightly off things that happen which may be purely coincidence, but honestly it's just most comforting to think of it as signs Dad's sending me, letting me know he's out there and watching me, gently still giving me guidance or letting me know I'm on the right path. It's really only something I share with a very small select group of people, although I guess that is out the window now, whatever.

Okay so this brings me to this morning, when I get a text from my coach/friend/hetro-soulmate Jacquie who was also very close to Dad, and is one of the people I have no problem sharing my weird thoughts with.

She sent me a text saying she was sitting in the Walmart parking lot - waiting for it to open, going through her phone and cleaning out old pictures. She had recently been listening to a book where they talked about orbs of lights in photos being people who have died coming back to be present or show love to the lives of their survivors. When she came across a series of photos from the day she brought Charlie/Splash to Tamrac. 

Now having been a purveyor of many ghost hunting shows I know orbs are a big thing, yes it can be chalked up to dust, or a dirty lens, or light flare. But isn't it more fun to think about what else it might be?

She sent me a few of the pictures, but I think now we both know why this ginger horse has managed to worm his way into my cold dark heart so quickly. I like to believe in the magic of this. 

Charlie is at the top of the hill.

A New Hope

So I'm going to start this by talking about a very special boy, my horse Breezer. 

I love this old man to bits, we've done everything together. For over 11 years he has been there for me, he's made me smile, he's made me cry and we've had great successes together. Again I say I love him more than I could possibly put into words. 

The truth of the matter is that we're at different places in our lives now, I love riding him - but he loves packing around little kids. He's at that point in his life where he is a great and reliable teacher, and that is what he should be doing. Yes it's fine for me to hop on him and just fart around but neither of us are really working towards a goal anymore. So I'm happy to let him be doted over by the little ones, and have him in turn teach them how to be tiny horse-people.

So with that being said - where does that leave me? I've always struggled with the idea of "what happens after Breezer?" Do I buy another horse? It took me a long time to find a horse with a personality that I clicked with and clashed with at the perfect ratio. What were the odds I would find that again? Not to mention the financial side of it. Owning a horse comes with a hefty price tag - owning two horses and being able to afford to keep both of them by myself is unrealistic - especially if I ever plan to actually save any money for a place of my own. 

Quitting riding has never really been an option, it is such a huge part of my life, and my happiness and sanity. My horse family are part of me on such a fundamental level.

The truth of the matter is I really struggle with confidence when it comes to riding. I consider myself a good rider, but it's been a long time since I've comfortably ridden any horse aside from Breezer or Timmi. It's tough admitting you're just afraid you're not good enough to ride or handle a different horse. Rationally I know this isn't true, there was a time in my life I would hop on literally ANY horse anyone would let me ride. I tell everyone that its great to ride different horses, its easier to give the advice than take it myself.

Which brings me to the point of this post - the spark of hope - of something exciting.

About two-ish years ago a bright chestnut colt came into the care of my coach Jacquie - this spunky creature with a mane and forelock for days didn't really make me think twice except that him and Breezer seemed to HATE each other - like Breezer would charge the fence at Splash and vice versa. Initially I took a stance a protective mother would take and disliked the kid who was mean to my baby. Then when we moved Splash went to live at Jacquie's sister and that was essentially that.

Fast forward to 2016 when slowly Jacquie would start talking about the chestnut colt with the easy going attitude and how ultimately it was her goal to have him be my new show horse, I mostly rolled my eyes at this, I wasn't sure I was ready for this - especially not with the horse who had butted heads with Breezer. Slowly I let the idea roll around in my head. Honestly sometimes I think Jacquie knows me better than I know myself - it would really be foolish not to trust her - and I know she would never put me in a situation I couldn't handle. We have a very clear unspoken agreement to never mention my insecurities when it comes to riding, she just magically knows the right amount of prodding I need and when its best to back off, and for this I trust her with my life. 

Now that this red-headed wonder who I've decided to dub Charlie Weasley has been around for a while the little bugger has stolen my heart. He's laid back and funny, he has such a personality. And while he's not my horse, and very well may never be - I couldn't be more excited what the future might hold for me and this ridiculous ginger horse.