Ranger is my horse. Quarterhorse. Nine. It’s difficult to see here, but the blaze on his face is the shape of a candle with flame. He’s not perfectly put together but has that disinterested confidence that makes him gorgeous. And he moves well. And his mane is the same color as my hair.

Ranger is solid. He’s ever-alert but I’ve never seen him frightened. He stepped on an empty plastic water bottle the other day (hey, litterbug!) and it popped like a gunshot and he walked on without so much as a twitch. He saunters into trailers and plows through streams and swamps, heads straight down the steepest of draws and up the other side without pause. This is, probably, only remarkable to those who’ve been with a horse who spooks at everything. I’ll describe that in detail when I get to Flicka.

Ranger is cool. He was never mean to the older horses, Houdini and Sunshine, when they all lived together. Now Ranger and Flicka and Kota have their own pasture; the three of them do well together and have similar levels of energy and attitude. Kota thinks he’s god’s gift but he’s no match for Ranger, who simply ignores him; this delivers a greater blow to Kota’s ego than any bite or kick could do. Flicka flirts up a storm with Kota and takes him to the corners to make out, but Ranger is her rock.

Ranger is perfect, for me. I trust him completely yet he challenges me, and this is my perfect combination in any partner. This is why my best friend and I have stayed tight for eighteen years, and why I love Mike the way I do (although this is pretty nice, too….) I ride Ranger with my eyes closed. I let him carry me home in the dark. I can push myself to become better, with him, and I know that he will push me, too. And because of all that ~ the trust and the work and the surrender and the growth ~ sometimes just walking a familiar path together fulfills everything.

Out back

Beloved

Every day finds me on my horse,
even if it’s only for an hour
to slip out the back gate
and race the two-track
to the base of the mountain
thundering down the deer trails we have memorized
until we both are panting.

When I’m on my horse, I can’t think of anything else
in the world
I need.