Alex Threw Me

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My beloved horse, River, who is on the brink of turning 18, had to move away from his best friend and fly all the way across the Pacific to relocate with us. When he arrived he was a bit dehydrated, thin and out of sorts. But most of all, he seemed sad. Seeing him this way, broke my heart and my husband and I decided that if we bought him a horse, he would be able to bond with a friend that he would not have to separate from. So I got to work on buying a horse for my horse. And knowing that the Haflinger had forever captured my heart, it was impossible to consider another breed. 

My Haflinger search did not take long. I found a breeder in California and a five year old gelding named Alex. His blonde mane was so long and gorgeous. He was trained well and ridden often and the trainer thought of him as a solid boy with good spirit. We prepared the pasture for our new arrival and Alex flew home. In Hawaii, he had to stay quarantined for forty-five days. It was agony to keep him all alone, separate from River, but we made it through and finally, it was time for them to meet. 

Haltered and excited, we cautiously introduced them. They took one nonchalant look at each other and then began munching on the same grass patch, nose to nose. It was like they had been friends forever. We could see right away that Alex was younger and more playful. River prefers life slow and steady with plenty of hay and grass that he can focus on. Eating is his greatest delight. Alex, however, was into everything like a toddler, even putting his entire head into our truck to locate anything to further investigate. He crushed my husband’s water bottle in one bite and took a chunk out of his side view mirror. This new horse was full of shenanigans and made us laugh out loud. 

Our boys were housed on a farm an hour and a half away from us. So when we got the opportunity to move them just ten minutes away to a new farm, we jumped at it. We spent a month introducing them to their new herd – a stallion, a gelding, two pregnant mares and two female sheep. The addition of the pig would come later. River’s concern was locating the hay bags but Alex found a new friend in the stallion, Navar. Alex and Navar are the hilarious duo of trouble, moving the water hoses around the farm, playing king of the sand hill, and the latest trick of trying to break the baby pig out of her cage. Together they tried to knock down her fencing in an effort perhaps to set her free. 

A week ago, I decided it was time to start riding Alex again. He hadn’t been ridden in the past six months because the new farm has less ability to ride. I had also been getting reports that he was nipping the other horses, bullying one of the pregnant mares, and trying to work his way up in the herd. I thought maybe a ride would be good for him to recenter and for us to have some fun.  

So I saddled him up and walked him to the arena. I was lost in thought of how good this would be for him, even mentally patting myself on the back, thinking of the selfies that I could take because the sun was rising behind the glorious Hawaiian mountains. Without checking in and lost in thought, I walked him to the steps and climbed on his back. He instantly went into panic mode, ran to the arena fence and bucked. He threw me off the front of him in which I did a complete 180 and landed directly on my butt, sitting up, facing him. Stunned, I watched him continue to panic for about thirty more seconds and prayed he would not trample me. He looped around the arena and then headed straight for me. I called out to him, “Alex you are ok.” He stopped abruptly and his eyes met mine. I could see the realization that he understood he was ok but that I was not. 

Checking in, I had intense pain in my lower back but I could wiggle my toes. The pain left me unable to stand. I watched him, scared he would panic again. But he did not and his eyes never left mine. The fear that was there was replaced with uncertainty as he walked slowly over to stand above me. His head hung low, able to touch mine and he began to lick me. He licked my head, my legs, and my arms. In frustration that I was not getting up, he nibbled my toes and I yelped in pain. He backed off, but only for a moment, and came right back hovering over me and watching my every move. He stood there for thirty minutes until my husband could get to him and gently walk him out of the arena to remove his tack. I hobbled to the truck and laid down in the backseat. I was overwhelmed with gratitude because I knew that fall could have been worse and was left wondering what had gone wrong. 

I am constantly surprised by the lessons that our animals teach us. Alex was simply telling me that if I had been present in the moment, I would have read all the signs that he was not ok and that riding him was not the solution that day. Instead I was in the past thinking about his recent behavior and I was in the future thinking about selfies in the beautiful sunrise. But had I been in the present, I would have noticed that Alex had his ears pinned back and that just before I walked him into the arena, he was chased by two other horses. I would have noticed easily that he was scared and to ride him without proper work would be devastating for both of us. But I was not grounded nor in the present. I was caught up in worlds that did not even exist – the past, gone, and the future illusory. The only thing that we have is the exact moment in which we are living. 

And how many t-shirts, bumper stickers and advertisements do we see reminding us to live just in this way? 

Living in the present is truly a gift and staying focused on living in the present is truly difficult.  It takes intention and practice daily. It’s just plain hard. Thanks to genetics I was born an A-type personality, conquering the world type of gal. I was designed to live in the future creating my reality from dreams and working tirelessly to get there. It was about adding more doctors and creating an even larger hospital in an effort to be the best. It’s clamoring to get to the goal I thought I wanted and only paying attention to the future. This was my failure in living in the present. 

But along the way, as my suffering was intensifying, I began to look for help and found it in Buddhism classes that were open to all religions. These classes helped me understand the importance of living in the present and learning meditation was the ultimate in being in the moment. Not doing, just being. Animal care workers do, do, do. When do we just be? It is impossible to create a compassion fatigue program without meditation playing a key role. If we cannot stop doing, to just be, then how can we see the signs that we need to see to make the right choices in our lives? I was doing as I walked Alex out to the arena. I wasn’t just being with him. I missed out on seeing how he was feeling that day and what he needed. Had I been present, I would have known. 

Writing this from my injury bed, surrounded by heating pads, red light therapy and all the modalities to heal, I continue to reflect on the accident. In a strange bit of kismet, the timing of the fall coincides with the timing of my desire to start releasing the painful part of my past. Perhaps when I made impact with the ground, it sort of released much of what I had been holding on to. I don’t suggest that you get thrown from a horse to have that same release, but something happened that morning that brought me soundly back to the present. I have spent the entire time with The Veterinary Compassion Fatigue Project in reflection, so perhaps now, it is time to come back to the present and prepare for the future. I will always look back but I don’t intend to spend so much time there now. It is time for me to turn the page and begin the next new and exciting chapter. 

If you find yourself worrying about the future, of which you cannot possibly control, or obsessing about the past which is gone, stop for a moment, look around and notice what you see, smell, feel or hear. Notice every single thing and use that as a few minute meditation grounding you and bringing you fully into the present. Even if it is just washing your hands. Be completely present in the act. The feel of the warm  water and soap, the smell, the effort. Find something that you do daily like cook dinner, or wash hands, or shower and choose to be completely submerged in the moment. Then branch out and take this into nature with a walk, a bike ride or a swim. Use this time to shut off your phone and lock into your surroundings, the moment. There is no past, it does not exist and neither does the future. All you have is right now, so be aware, listen, feel, smell, see and be grateful for the gift of the present. In this gift, anything is possible. 

Find me on The Veterinary Compassion Fatigue Project Spotify Podcast, my website, Facebook and YouTube @TVCFP. Let’s keep talking about what we face in the veterinary and animal care world and ways that we can help each other. Reach out if you have a particular topic you would love to hear about. Subscribe to hear updates on our annual restoration retreat to be launched in Spring of 2025. As always, I hope you find what you are looking for and share it with anyone who needs it.

With love and hope,

Dr. Erin Holder