It was barely after day break; I was head down, multi tasking, as I hustled to get my morning turn outs completed, monitor feed changes, and check on the condition of little Tosha’s recent bandage change. Irene stopped me in my tracks, her voice cracking through palpable emotion. She was clearly distressed. Wyatt had been adopted, and he was one of her favorites. She didn’t even get to say good-bye.

Wyatt, like the many horses who come to us, are only temporary residents on a ranch that was purchased to offer them refuge, hope, and a future. In serving them, we provide the gift of time in which to offer the training and healing that they need in order for us to fulfill the ultimate promise of our mission, a forever home. We know that rescue is only the beginning. In order to reduce a return rate on adopted horses, we try to remove as many barriers as possible to the horses landing in their new homes. It is our daily work of nurturing, developing boundaries and intimacy that creates a bond of deep caring and love. The greatest majority of our residents have nothing when they come to us. At Red Bucket, our horses receive a name, a bucket, dignity, and the promise of a forever home. We have the privilege of providing a transitional relationship, a bond grounded in trust and consistency that for us can only be temporary, but for the horses, the relationship is foundational and lasting. While our horses come to us with nothing other than the baggage of the abused, they leave us with the newly found confidence in themselves and in humankind. They leave us prepared to be loved and to love.

While the language of horses is conveyed in often subtle nonverbal cues and masked by stoicism, they are always communicating, and it is our job to listen. Because of the importance of both our mission, and our promise, we must learn to interpret what the horse is telling us, not projecting what we want to hear as a result of our undeniable affection. Wyatt had been telling us that he was ready. When he came to us, his time was up, a skinny, injured stray, rejected and abandoned by his owner, only hours from being destroyed by Animal Control. In his relatively brief stay with us, he blossomed into an ideal family pet and trusted mount, and an adorable hybrid of a teddy bear and a labrador, that we adoringly coined “Teddyadore.” It is little wonder that so many of us who cared for him fell helplessly in love with his endearing nature, gentle heart, and desire to please.

Fortunately, I was able to gently remind Irene that it is to be celebrated that Wyatt found what we considered to be an ideal home. He was chosen by a family that we already adore, a family with an established track record of loving the previously unwanted. This family had ironically adopted Wyatt’s best friend and paddock mate earlier this year, and they sought out a second Red Bucket horse to complete their growing family, and they chose Wyatt.

As luck would have it, I was also able to inform Irene that Wyatt wasn’t leaving until later in the day, and there was still plenty of time. Truth be told, I had already said my own salty good bye the evening prior, standing in the darkened shadows of his stall with my arms draped around Wyatt’s neck, and my face buried in his mane. The tell tale slick sheen from a recent liberal application of Cowboy Magic was a sign that I had not been the only farewell visitor that day. I double gulped down a pine cone sized lump in my throat that tasted of both loss and profound gratitude. In the spirit of complete transparency, I admit to an underlying wash of a raw emotion that I allowed for only a moment. I gave Wyatt one last squeeze, and left his stall knowing that we had done our job and kept our promise.