By Katrina Landon, MSW, RSW
katrina@healingjourneycounselling.ca
For my entire life, I have been surrounded by animals.
It started with the cat who was my parents’ first child, an orange tabby named Carrotts, who put up with my incessant need for his attention and progressed into a lifelong love of all animals. Animals have always been a source of comfort for me; as a small child, I remember climbing onto a couch when I was sick and pulling Carrotts up beside me. I also recall him not being overly thrilled about it when I first dragged him onto the couch, but later my mom found us under a blanket snoozing away, his paw resting across my chest and my face cuddled into his.
While cats were my first great love, at age 8 I was introduced to horses, and they quickly became an obsession. My mom is to blame; after trying me in many other sports that I enjoyed but never really clicked with, she suggested horseback riding as she had ridden extensively in her teenage years. The rest, as they say, is history. My first horse love was a gelding named Shadow, an enormous gray I rode in lessons. He didn’t always listen to me, especially not when he was standing on my foot, but his gentle nature won me over. When he was retired, my focus shifted to a mare named Jane, then on and on to different horses as life moved forward, I switched stables, and my skills grew. I fell in love with a dozen or more horses, all special in their own way, and being at the stables was where I felt most at ease and happiest.
It was when I was about twelve years old, though, that horses became more than a passion – they became a lifeline and one of the only things tethering me to this earth. I had entered middle school, and suddenly the fact that I loved horses became something that was strange and weird. Many of my classmates started picking on me, and I soon became the butt of too many jokes to count. It intensified until I was struggling mentally and contemplating suicide. Depression had set in full-force, and I had no idea what was happening to me; at the time, mental health education was lacking and I had no concept of why I was suddenly feeling so down.
Around this same time, I was introduced to a horse named Chewy. She was the most beautiful, sweetest horse I had ever met. The love I had had for horses in the past paled in comparison to how I started to feel about Chewy. Seeing her was the bright spot in my week and as I spent more and more time with her I confided in her about everything that was happening in my life, talking to her as I felt I could talk to no one else. I owe my life to her; when I was contemplating ending my life, Chewy was what I thought of; the idea that she needed me kept me going, even through some of the worst times of my life. When I was thirteen, Chewy became officially mine – a bright spot in the darkness.
Eventually the bullying stopped as I left middle school, but the depression continued through my teen years in continuous cycles. Again, the horses, and Chewy in particular, kept me going. Being around her gave me a sense of safety and comfort. Around her I felt at ease and relaxed in a way I felt nowhere else. She knew all my secrets and never told a soul. On some weekends my coach would go away for the weekend, leaving me in charge of the barn and all twenty or so horses. On those weekends I would take Chewy out to a field so she could munch on some grass while I lazed in the sun. One weekend I remember studying for my exams while in the field with Chewy. She listened to me practice my French, not judging me when I fumbled a word or two. Those are some of the memories I cherish most.
Sadly, we lost our beautiful Chewy when I was only seventeen to a broken leg that could not be fixed. But even in the aftermath, I never considered stopping my involvement with the horses. Chewy had a daughter, Joy, who became my new raison d’etre. Even without Joy, I doubt I would have stayed away for long. By that point, horses had become so engrained in my existence and so vital to my mental health that the thought of being without them was an impossible thought. Horses provide a sense of stability in my life, something that is always good even on the days when I’m covered in mud and muck and sore and bruised.
As an adult, I make time for the horses even as my life has become busy. I still have Joy, who is sixteen now. My journey with her has been difficult and challenging as she is not the easiest horse to work with – she caused me many tears of frustration when I was training her – but the bond I have with her and the joy she brings me (pun intended) makes it all well worth it. My depression is still around, but being around the horses helps me manage it. I read somewhere that when people are around horses, their presence forces our heartbeat to sync to theirs as they have the greater presence, which might explain why their company is so soothing. Whatever it is, it works well. Just as my cats’ purr soothes me when I’m feeling blue at home, the smell of horses is a blanket of comfort when I’m at the barn.
I could go on for hours about the positive impact animals have had on my life, but for now I’ll end with this: through all the hardships and less-than-perfect times, animals have never let me down. Even when I’ve been bruised and sore from a fall off my spunky and sometimes-wild Joy, I’ve still kept going because ultimately, a few bruises are a fair price to pay in exchange for the love she, and other horses, have given me.
Katrina Landon, MSW, RSW
