Photo:  Pam White

This was taken when Deo first arrived from Spain.  I was in love.  I still am.  That is the heart of it.

The world of the women who like him is oddly quiet.  We are all waiting.  I am waiting to be moved in either direction.  I am waiting for the foggy part of my heart to clear, and for what is best for him to ring me like a bell.  And that is what it is about.  What is best for him.  It is best for him to connect, to have fun, to be loved.  He loves to be ridden well and playfully – that is the part I am less good at.

Deo is not waiting.  He is being.  Today when I went to the barn he bopped me again and again with his nose as I stood talking to my friend Melvin.  “Hey!” he was saying.  “Hey!  Here I am!” I didn’t ride him because I pulled my back out rehearsing a new dance I am calling “Beast.”

So I let my patient Friesian, Sanne, carry me around the ring, to see if my hips would rock back into alignment.  At one point I closed my eyes and let Sanne carry me without “riding.”  Eyes closed, I could feel all the details of my hips, his back, and I could feel his mind taking over, protecting me.  I wept. Something sad, something thankful, something unknown.