The first Christmas that I owned Larry, the owner of his boarding stable treated all the horses in the barn to a session with an animal communicator.
Before I tell you what Larry had to say, I want to point out that my background is in the sciences. I worked in a laboratory for most of my adult life, and made decisions based on data, evidence, and rational thought. It doesn’t mean I’m closed-minded. Just because something isn’t explainable doesn’t mean it’s false or wrong; it may just be that we don’t yet have the tools to study it effectively. Listening to the animal communicator hasn’t been the only strange experience in my life that raised more questions than answers.
Here’s what Larry said.
- Larry said he liked his saddle now better than the one he used to have.
I was pleased to hear this, since I’d had to buy a new saddle for him because he was so hard to fit. I’d never before spent as much money on the saddle as on the horse.
- Larry said he liked his bridle.
Yay! I’d been able to snap up the only ‘small horse’ bridle in the bridle maker’s inventory. Plus, I had bought a 5-inch KK French link bit at a ridiculous price to accommodate Larry’s dainty little mouth. It was so nice to hear that he appreciated it.
- Larry said he was sorry about the blanket.
Well, no way…! Two days before, when I’d trekked out into the paddock to bring Larry in, he’d been standing beside something in the snow that looked like a dead animal. It was his turnout blanket. I hauled it into the barn and discovered the belly straps were still done up, but the front straps had been ripped right off. Larry and his turnout buddy had obviously been horsing around in a big way. When I asked the animal communicator how she knew about it, she said, of course, that Larry told her. Even stranger, during her session with Larry’s turn-out buddy, that horse told her the same thing.
- Larry said his right hock used to bother him, but now it was better.
Interesting… I had thought it was his right stifle. When Larry first moved into the stable in August, his right leg would occasionally collapse, especially on the lunge. It seemed more stable now, an improvement which I attributed to consistent, correct work. Interestingly, a year later, when his leg started bothering him again, both the right stifle and the right hock were involved, but it was his right hock that needed to be injected.
- Larry said he’d heard he was being moved, and he was worried about it.
When the animal communicator told me this, I explained to her that Larry wasn’t moving out, he was just going to be moved to a stall at the far end of the barn. There was a mare over there that didn’t like the horse in the adjoining stall, but she did like Larry. So Larry and the other horse were going to be switched. To this, Larry responded that the stall must be thoroughly cleaned first, because he didn’t want to smell the previous occupant when he moved in. Who knew he was so fastidious…?
- Larry said he loved me, and he liked it when I talked to him.
Hmm. It would be easy for anyone to guess this would push all my happy buttons. But, hey, what’s the harm in being happy? I decided to accept this one at face value.
- Larry said that when he pinned his ears while he was in cross-ties, it wasn’t because he was unhappy. It was just something he did.
Well, good to know. The snarly-face was, after all, at odds with Statement 6.
- Larry wanted to know if my husband liked him.
Seriously? Larry cared if the Scuba Diver liked him? Like a lot of horse-husbands, the Scuba Diver rarely comes to the barn. If it made Larry feel better, though, the animal communicator passed on that the Scuba Diver considered him part of the family.
- Larry said he was proud of his tail. Before, his tail hadn’t been so nice, but now it was one of his finest features.
I was happy to take the credit for this. It had taken nearly a year of daily Show Sheen sprays and careful combing to imbue Larry’s tail with its present satiny splendour.
- Larry asked when was I going to ride him.
What? Was this horse asking to be ridden more often? He’d already been ridden six days in a row. Today was his day off. Didn’t he want a day off? Although – it had been a trainer riding him for the past while. Was Larry saying he wanted me to ride him? That was enough to make me strut a little. Although, what if he just wanted to know because he dreaded the prospect, and wanted time to psych himself up for the ordeal…? Neither Larry nor the animal communicator elaborated.
So in the end, I was left entranced, intrigued, entertained and ultimately unenlightened. What was the truth about this animal communicator? Was she reading my horse’s mind? Or was she a shrewd (and lucky) judge of my deepest desires?
She was convinced she was the real deal. So I guess only Larry knows for sure. And he’s not talking to me...