While reading a biography about Mary Baker Eddy recently, I came across a place where it said, in speaking of her horse stables: “Above the stable door hung a sign, ‘Always speak to the horses before entering the stalls,’ and she did just that—and not only when they were in their stalls, either” (Isabel Ferguson and Heather Vogel Frederick, A World More Bright: The Life of Mary Baker Eddy, p. 134). Her love for animals was so clear.
That reminded me so much of my father, who was always talking to the horses at the barn where we boarded ours. Just as he would say hello to the trainers, groomers, and owners, he was right there with carrots and sugar, speaking to each horse by name. I can remember coming home from school and changing into my riding clothes—jeans, cowboy boots, and a plaid shirt (my lovely English saddle and formal riding attire were rarely touched).
My father knew I was afraid of some of the bigger horses, so he chose a wonderful gentle horse for me, named Blaze. He told Blaze all about me, and told me all about Blaze. Blaze had belonged to a police officer, had helped save people’s lives, and had been in many a parade—a retired hero of sorts!