Horse Whisperer

Violet, a young horse women, has this gift, She can touch a horse and see its life story. Her beloved horse Westland has fallen ill, can she learn to control.

I could feel the wooden bench beneath me as I starred out into the pasture. My mind kept rambling on and wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop telling me how this would end. It wouldn’t stop telling me how he would die and there was nothing I could do. A slight breeze rolled across the air, ruffling tree leaves. I felt numb, lost. A tear rolled over the edge of my eye and slide down my check. I made no move to wipe it away. The patio screen door swung open and then slammed closed. I felt the feminine hand of my mother move across my shoulder. “It’s time to come in.” She said softly. I turned to look up at her. “Will he be ok?” I asked hopefully. “I don’t know honey, but he’ll pull through, he’s a strong one, just like you.” She rubbed my back and helped me up. “Can I stay with him tonight?” I asked. She nodded. “Sure. I’ll bring out some blankets.” She went back into the house and left me to my thoughts. I walked hesitantly toward the barn trying to hold back my tears. I tilted my head to look up into the sky, Please, I can’t lose him. I can’t. I prayed silently.

 

Two weeks earlier

                  I walked with the grooming box in hand and a smile on my face. I slide back Westland’s stall door. He turned his head to me; I set down the box, and ran my hand along his neck. “Hey buddy, you ready to go out?” I asked him. I grabbed his curry comb and ran it circularly across his back, loosing dirt, mud, and the straw he rolled in. I curried his right and set the comb in the box and picked up the soft brush and brushed away the dirt and dust all down his neck, back, and legs on both sides. I set down the brush and dug out the hoof pick. I ran my hand down his leg and leaned my shoulder into his, that was his signal to shift his weight to his other three feet. He lifted his front left and I picked it up and picked the manure from his shoed hoof. I moved on and cleaned out the remaining three hooves and tossed the pick into the box. I leaned around the door and unhooked his halter and Westland lowered his head and let me slide his halter on. “That’s a good boy.”I smiled and kissed his cheek. I clipped the lead shank to his halter and lead him from his stall.

                  I tied him and walked into the tack room and grabbed our saddle and saddle pad. I walked out and slung the pad onto his back and slide it up to protect his whither. I lifted the saddle and gently sat it down on his back and slide the billet strap through the cinch and tightened it, so that the saddle wouldn’t slide when I was in it. I set down the stir ups and untied him and lead him outside into the outdoor arena. I unhooked his green reins from the saddle horn and clipped them to his halter. I unclipped the lead and rolled it up and attached it to the side of the saddle.  I locked the gate and moved the mounting block to just under the stirrups. I mounted setting the tips of my toes into the stirrups.  I gathered a rein in each hand, “Alright boy let’s do a warm up lap and then we’ll start the warm up.” I applied pressure to his sides and he started walking along the rail. My body instantly became in tune with his movements. He found his way to the beginning pole and I applied more pressure, “Trot.” He began to move a little bit faster. We neared a corner and I applied pressure with my right leg and pulled the left rein, he rounded the corner smoothly and I praised him. “Good boy. Good job.” I smiled we trotted a few laps and when we neared the beginning again I applied a little more pressure, “Canter.” He moved up his pace into his third fastest gait. My body continued to move to his rhythm as he rounded the next corner. I’d been concentrating so hard on Westland that I’d blocked off the outside world. I hadn’t noticed a figure standing at the gate. I pulled Wes back into his trot, “Trot boy.” He switched gaits smoothly. “Well don’t you look all fancy up there?” A strong male voice said. He had a hint of a southern thisp that many of the cowboys seemed to sport. I pulled Westland back into a walk and pulled again and said, “Whoa.” He stopped and stood still. I looked up to see my favorite cowboy.

                  “Well look who the horse dragged in…” I leaned in and crossed my arms over the saddle horn. He climbed the fence and crossed onto our side. “I can’t believe your two timing me, Vi.” He said, his voice full of hurt. “I found someone better, he listens, he’s stronger, and he’s really good lookin’.” I smiled. “I must admit. I’m jealous, he’s handsome.” He smiled. I stood up in my stirrups and swung my right leg over his hindquarters and dismounted keeping Westland’s reins in my hands. I threw my hands around Brenden’s neck and hugged him. “It’s good to see you again Bren.” I pulled back. “You too Violet.” He said again. “What brings you back here?” I asked, leading Westland with us. “I missed home; I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I was away.” He said taking up my empty hand like he used to when we were kids. “You missed me didn’t you?” I teased. “Oh, lots, mentioned you all the time. Always said I got me a sweet country girl back home.” He smiled sideways at me.

 It was good to have his easy going mind back; things were tense when he left. It was especially hard for me when he left. It’s not like we were a thing or whatever you call it, he was a good friend, he was always there when I needed him. He was the shoulder I leaned on when I had a bad day. I chose to go to him for guidance, it seemed more natural than that. It was easier to talk to him than it was when I talked to mom. And when he left, I didn’t have a shoulder anymore, things weren’t the same. He was the small thread that held the farm together. Brenden had his own dreams, how could I blame him for chasing them.

“So how long are you here for?” I asked. “A while.” He answered. I laughed. “Your gonna have to be more specific than that hun.” I smiled.  He thought for a while. “I got a record deal, and recorded, but I couldn’t handle the heat of being so far from home. So I’m home for a while.” He said sadly. There was one thing Brenden loved more than horses and that was his music. He had amazing talent, but nowhere to show it. That’s why he left. “Did you bring the demo home?” I asked. He looked down at me. “No.” He answered simply. “Darn.” I replied, “Well I guess that just means your gonna have to do it live.” I complied. He had a big ? mark on his face.

I returned Westland to his stall and put up our tack back into the tack room. I turned around to see my dad leaning against the door frame. I stumbled back a step. “Geez could you be any creepier?” I asked sarcastically, checking for my pulse. “A bear would have never seen me coming.” He smiled. I just nodded not bothering to answer that. “I see Brenden’s back.” He said. I began clapping. “Your very observant.” I said sarcastically. He tisked. “And your point is?” I asked. He shrugged. “Thanks for the notification dad, but I know he’s back.”I smiled, he pushed himself off the door frame and walked away in the opposite direction. I watched him walk away. I shook my head and continued on with work.

I lifted the saddle up and suddenly felt dizzy. Is the room suppose to move like that? I asked when the saddle dropped from my hands. I held my palms to my temples trying to make the room stop spinning, but it didn’t and when it did, it was replaced with a migraine the size of North America. I fell to my knees, my head facing the dirt floor. “Vi…Violet.” A panicked voice called. I tried to answer but the pain impaired my voice.  Brenden came behind the horse to see my suffering form. “Violet!” He slide to his knees. “Hey what’s wrong?” He asked, brushing my hair back from my face, and like that the migraine was gone. I looked up at him. “Hey, oh, um, I just dropped the saddle and bent down to pick it up.” I smiled and picked up the saddle and slung it back onto Hunter’s back. “Vi you sure you want to ride you don’t look so good?” He asked. The way he kept pursuing this made me mad. “I’m fine, once I get up there I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.” I finished and unclipped Hunter from his cross ties. That was the third migraine in the past week and a half. I lead Hunter into the outdoor arena and mounted him from the mounting block. I took up his reins in each hand and pushed him to walk. I posted him into the trot. I was smiling broadly until the reminisce of the migraine returned, with images and flashes. I was sitting on the porch starring up at the sky, with tears falling from my eyes. The pictures were over whelming. I could feel what she felt, sad, sick, abandoned. The images become too much and came to fast, they were blurs. I was losing control. I was slipping sideways. Why was I slipping sideways? Everything turned pitch black on impacted.

Brenden

                  I watched in slow motion as the one thing in my world that sustained me came crashing down to earth. The one thing I thought was solid, lose control. Violet’s face was like a white board, pale and blank. She looked as if half of her died as she fell. Time sped up and I could feel myself screaming and jumping.

                  “Violet!” I ran as fast and as hard as my body would allow. I knelt by her side. Her eyes were closed.  I put my arms underneath her and lifted her from the ground. I looked and saw Hunter tossing his head, as a stable hand grabbed and yanked on his reins.

I had never been so scared in my life, never so afraid. I wasn’t afraid or scared for myself. I was scared for Violet.

Violet

                  I opened my eyes and felt the sting of just waking up. I felt sore. My entire body wrapped in a big black and blue bruise. Why am I bruised? Where am I? I looked around realizing I wasn’t in my room. I looked down at myself, I wasn’t even in my own clothes. That’s when I remembered what happened. The migraine had come back and I lost control and fell off Hunter. I looked over to the right and found Brenden laying sprawled out and passed out in the chair. I smiled at the sight. I made a move to get up from the bed and it squeaked. Brenden shot awake, he jumped up. He rubbed his eyes and realizing I wasn’t dead , “ Hey your alive.” He said happily. “Yep.” I agreed. He sat down by me. “Violet, what happened, I’ve never seen you lose control like that?” He asked. I thought for a moment. “I don’t know, I got these images, and they were passing so fast, I couldn’t understand them.” I turned my gaze on him. “They were of me, or at least I think they were.” I sighed, praying I wasn’t crazy. “What did you see?” Bren asked. “I or she was sitting on a porch that looked similar to mine and she was looking up to the sky, tears were falling down her face.” I could feel how she felt and I shivered. “It was like she was dead, she felt so scared and abandoned.” I said finishing what I had caught. Something about what I said grabbed Bren’s attention. He stood as a statue. “Bren you alright, you look pale?” I asked thinking about switching him places. “Nothing, I was just thinking about what you were saying.” He said. I stood up. “You don’t think I’m crazy do you?” I asked pacing. The room door opened and my mother came in, “Could you excuse us Brenden?” She asked. With a last look at me he walked through the door. My mom was silent. “I prayed every night, hoping you wouldn’t have to deal with this.” She said finally. I was confused. “Mom, what are you talking about, deal with what?” I asked. “Your grandmother said you would be born with the gift.” She continued rambling. “What gift?” I asked, now moved on from confused to frustrated. She turned and faced me. “Every since you were little, you loved horses, no matter what I did, you would always go out in the barn and just watch them.  And when you started understanding them in a way no other could ever do, I knew your grandmother was right.” She sighed. She was silent for a long while before she gathered herself to keep speaking. “You’re a horse whisperer, Violet.” She said suddenly. I burst out laughing. I met her gaze and she was serious. “Your serious, there’s no such thing.” I said hysterically. “Talk to your grandmother, she trained you.” My mother said and strode from the room. I continued to laugh. Horse whisperer, that’s crazy. Your grandmother trained you… Her words ran through my mind like acid. The words burned themselves in my mind.

                  I sat on the hospital bed and thought. Flashes from when I was younger came through. “Grandma am I different?” I asked, looking up to the women in front of me. She sat down and pulled me close. “Oh honey, your special, just like me. You have a great gift Violet. One, others only dream of.” Her excitement was contagious, I felt myself catch it. “Use your gift to help others, dear.” She smiled. The memory faded, followed by another.

                  My teenage body came into view. “Violet dear, you see that horse right there.” She pointed and I followed with my eyes. “He’s not feeling well, could you help him. Tell me what’s wrong.” She smiled and walked me over to the horse. I raised my hand and ran it down the length of his face. A vision overcame my mind. I closed my eyes and let the images take over me. I saw the horse as a colt, frolicking and prancing around, happy until tripping and tumbling to the ground. I could feel myself gasp. The impact of the fall somehow missed his head, and affected his leg bending it. The vision went away, and I saw the horse through new eyes. I moved my hand along his neck and down his shoulder, down his leg and to the cannon bone. There was a small visible scar running the length of the skin. “He fell as a colt and injured his leg. He can still walk, but not as well as he could if he hadn’t fallen.” I looked at my grandmother, who was looking back with a proud smile. “Yes sweetie, that’s right very good.” She continued smiling. I looked at her with sad eyes. “Is there anything we can do.” I looked back at the horse. “He’s in pain.” I said. My grandmother came and pulled me away from the horse. “I’m sorry honey, bit his time has come, he will suffer no longer.” As she spoke the horse fell and never stood up again. A tear escaped my eye.

“Will I ever be able to control this?” I asked. “There will come times when you think you can no longer handle it, but trust when I say, this gift is a part of you, always has been.” She kissed my forehead and the memory liquidated.

                  The memories were over whelming. I didn’t understand why I don’t remember them until today.

                  I woke up the next morning in my own bed. I sat up and got dressed and headed out to the barn. I saw Westland in the pasture grazing, and smiled as I walked into the barn. Brenden saw me and frowned, “Your suppose to be in bed.” He sighed. I grinned mischievously. “Suppose to be, but don’t have to.” I said. He shook his head. “You just got out of the hospital, Vi.” He warned. I walked past him and in the feed room. “I’m fine Bren, really.” I assured him, but I myself wondered if I was actually alright. “Violet! Come FAST IT’S WESTLAND!” Someone from the outside shouted. I felt my blood run cold, and from the look on Brenden’s face I could have past for a corpse. Before he could stop me I was running hard and fast. I jumped the fence of the pasture he was in. “Westland!” I shouted and dove to his side. I looked up to the man that had shouted. “What happened?” I asked, cupping Wes’s nose in my hand. “I don’t know he was fine and then suddenly he was laying on his side like this.” He exclaimed. “Westland, come on stand up, please, your fine boy.”I whispered. He blew out air through his nostrils, but he didn’t get up. A cold tear ran down my face, leaving a wet trail behind. I watched as it hit the center of his head.

                  I could feel the wooden bench beneath me as I stared out into the pasture. My mind kept rambling on and wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop telling me how this would end. It wouldn’t stop telling me how he would die and there was nothing I could do. A slight breeze rolled across the air, ruffling tree leaves. I felt numb, lost. A tear rolled over the edge of my eye and slide down my check. I made no move to wipe it away. The patio screen door swung open and then slammed closed. I felt the feminine hand of my mother move across my shoulder. “It’s time to come in.” She said softly. I turned to look up at her. “Will he be ok?” I asked hopefully. “I don’t know honey, but he’ll pull through, he’s a strong one, just like you.” She rubbed my back and helped me up. “Can I stay with him tonight?” I asked. She nodded. “Sure. I’ll bring out some blankets.” She went back into the house and left me to my thoughts. I walked hesitantly toward the barn trying to hold back my tears. I tilted my head to look up into the sky, Please, I can’t lose him. I can’t. I prayed silently.

                  I held my breath as I entered his stall and sat beside him. My heart caught in my throat. I couldn’t think through the haze. “he…”I cleared my throat. “Hey, there boy.” I whispered.  He turned his head and laid it on my lap. I ran my hand down the length of his neck. “It’s be alright boy, you’ll see.” A tear fell through the barrior that held the waterfall. Memories from when Westland was born past through my mind.

                  I sat as a four year old in the barn on a straw bale holding my mother’s hand. “Momma, what’s happening?” I asked, stretching my neck to look over the stall door. “ A foal’s about to be born honey. Your foal.” She added. “My foal?” I mirror the question. “Yes honey, your foal, you have to love and feed and care for him just like I did you when you were born.” She said. I looked back into the stall and saw a small replica of the girl horse. “It’s a colt.” My father said as he left the foal to be liked dry by his mother. My four year old eyes widened, “ He’s pretty.” I whispered watching as the little fella fumbled to stand.  

                  Another tear fell.

The lunge rope burned in my ten year old hands as I fought to get the bold six year old colt to trot around the round pin. Fluid in his movements and stubborn at heart, fought all the way around until he learned I couldn’t be budged. He obliged to my will and trotted around the pin, with stunning grace.

                  I pulled myself out of the memories and focused on the future. Dad came in and stood in front of the stall door. “It’s been two months Violet. He can barley lift his head to eat. He can’t go on like this much longer, he will eventually die without food.” He said as gently as he could. I turned on him with acidic eyes. “He IS NOT going to die. I won’t allow it.” I said harshly. How could I could I lash out at him when he told me the truth? Westland wasn’t going to last long without food. He was getting weaker without exercise. Even with only two months his weight had dropped dramatically. “Honey, if he doesn’t get any better, I’m gonna have to put him down.” He said and walked away, afraid to say anything else. Those words were like ice cold water thrown on my face. I looked down at Westland. “Your not going to die not while I’m living.” I said and wiped away my tears.

                  The words came to me and swirled around in my mind. Focus Violet, let the need take over, leave yourself behind. Give yourself to you power… “Yes grandmother.”  I whispered. I closed my eyes and found the quiet calm within. I raised my hand and set in the center of Westland’s head. Nothing came. I concentrated harder. I threw myself to the need to heal him. Still nothing happened, why isn’t it working? I began to panic. All my love flowed through me and I felt heat shoot down my arm. My mind was being filled. It’s working! I screamed at myself. I focused on the visions.

                  Pictures of old horses floated through my mind, that I soon came to understand as Westland’s ancestors, starting with his mom, and going back. A horse with blond coloring fell to the ground much like Westland had. People started panicking and berried the horse three months after he had befallen. And there in lies the answer.

                  The vision passed and I realized tears were falling down my face. Westland’s grandsire was the answer. I stood up and ran from his stall, I burst into the house. “WHO was Westland’s grandsire?” I asked. My parent’s and Brenden looked at each other. “Violet what happened?” My mom asked. “ I saw his grandsire, a blond stallion, what was his name?” I asked impatiently, time was running out. “His name was Racer.” My dad said. “What do you mean you saw him he’s been dead for over 30 years?” He asked. I didn’t answer his question. “What did he die of?” I asked. My dad scratched his head. “He died of a disease known only to his breed.” My dad said. “That’s what ‘s wrong with Westland, the disease was passed down to him.” I said. “We can save him now.” I said. “Honey, I know that you want to save him, but I don’t think we can this time.” He said gently. I glared at him. What was he saying? I just said we could save him. “Honey, I think it’s time to just….let go.” He said again. I faltered a step, glaring at him. Who was he just to give up? Who was he to decide who lived and died? I turned and fled back out into the barn.

                     

Author's Note

This one is about 8 pages long. does anyone know how to divide it into chapters so it's not so long? Thanks!