The horse who grieved the loss of his friend

Cutter was Nicole’s Palomino Quarter Horse. He was the first animal she asked me to work on. One evening she called me: “Cutter is struggling to breathe. He’s had respiratory issues for a while but I think he got into some bad hay and now he’s really having problems. Can you help?”

I tuned into this gorgeous boy and, yep, I could feel the tightness in my own throat. I began sending intention to release the constriction and after a few minutes I could feel some relief. However I was still left with what felt like a lump in my throat. I shared this experience with Nicole.  She replied, “He carries so much grief inside him. Each time we lose an animal he really takes it hard.” Aha! So that was what I was feeling. It really did feel like grief.  She continued, “When the last animal died about two months ago he really had a hard time.”

Curious, I wanted to find out what animal had died. I wasn't aware that Nicole had lost a horse or a goat recently. When I went back to Cutter I had the sense that his loss had been a cat. This seemed wholly improbable to me, that a horse would grieve a cat, and I was a bit embarrassed to ask Nicole. But yes, it was a cat, Cutter’s special friend. He loved to nuzzle her soft fur and she liked to sleep on his back. She died very unexpectedly and shocked them all.

But we can’t have this sweet guy carrying around all that sadness. I suggested to Nicole: “Do you think he would be willing to release his grief to me? Then I could just have a good cry and get rid of it for the both of us.”  “Girl….”, she responded, “if you really want to take that on, go for it.”

That evening, late at night, I tuned back in and asked Cutter. His response: “Lady, with all due respect, I don't know you! So, no, I am not going to give that up to you.” I had the sense that he felt responsibility for all animals on the farm and had to shoulder the burden himself for each loss.

Fair enough. I inquired, “Do you think I could just “come inside” with you?  Just hang out with you in your body?” And then I could feel him, or rather, feel what he felt. This was March in Vermont. When I envisioned entering his body I could sense the hard frozen ground where his hooves were planted on the crusty snow. I felt the warmth of his woolly body and the cool tips of his ears. There was the sharp, almost acrid, feel of the cold air coming into his nostrils. It tasted of the quiet and serenity of the chilly sacred night. What an amazing experience to be on the inside of a horse! I was truly grateful to Cutter for sharing himself with me in this manner.

The following day Nicole reported to me: “Cutter seems different now. He seems almost… lighter and happier. Today he called to me when he saw me coming. He’s never done that before. And he’s always been difficult for the farrier, but today he stood quietly.”

Encouraged by my new friendship, I returned often to spend time in Cutter’s body with him, enjoying the experience of being a horse.