Janet L Jones, PhD

No, True is not gone or lost. But I am at the beginning of a month in Australia, traveling this beautiful continent to deliver clinics and masterclasses in multiple locations. It’s a wonderful opportunity filled with friendly, humorous people who I enjoy working with. But I had to leave True in the United States at home.

I travel often, but this is the longest True and I will have ever been apart. Already, the coming month feels much too long. I try not to text his caretaker too often, but I’d like to ask her daily, “How is he? What’s he doing right now? Which of his latest antics did I miss?” People with dogs—of which I have had many—and cats might wonder whether missing a horse who doesn’t live in the home is similar to missing a house pet. Emotionally, I would say yes. Our horses are our companions, to the same degree as a live-in dog or cat; we love them and we worry about their welfare even as we set up the best possible caregiving situations for them when we must be gone.

True and I were last parted for a long while when I went to Poland and Czechia a couple years ago for a little over two weeks. His greeting upon my return is described in an earlier post on this blog—but suffice to say here that he ran to the pasture gate upon glimpsing my approach from a third of a mile away and stood there whinnying unstoppably until I arrived. I wonder if he will do something similar this time. He’s older now, more secure, firmly established in his herd—so maybe he doesn’t need me any more. Maybe he never needed me—it’s easy to think anthropomorphically when you’re separated by a great distance from an animal you love.

True knows his caregiver well. She has cared for him in my briefer absences in the past, very successfully. I wouldn’t give her the chance to supervise him for an entire month unless that were the case. She knows how I work with him and how I want him treated—always with love and generosity and plenty of hay! True’s fully grown now, at 17.1 hands and 1500 pounds; he needs lots of nighttime hay to supplement his daytime pasture grass. In a stable full of quarter horse ponies who are never ridden, his feed needs have become the source of much astonishment and laughter. Fortunately, the people who feed him are generous!

An interesting emotion crops up when humans are separated from their horses. At times in my life, I’ve lived with my horses—literally in the barn, or in a house adjacent to the barn. At other times, I’ve lived away from them, sometimes a mile away and sometimes 20 miles away. What’s odd to me is that this latter difference can be felt. I am much more comfortable when my horses are a mile away than when they are 20 miles away, even though in both cases we are separated. Friends tell me they have the same feeling. We feel safer and more secure when our horses are nearby, even if we still have to drive to reach them.

I’m enjoying my work in Australia very much… but I will be happy to see my True when I get home. I might even stand at the pasture fence and whinny until he approaches.