Riding Seamus down the street, my eye caught our reflection in the window of a shiny black car. I was jolted out of my daydream by a voice on the other side of the vehicle. I cannot remember his exact words, but he said some version of “wou…ldn’t it be nice.” I smiled politely. I didn’t want to share with him that I wasn’t admiring the car, or fantasizing about driving it; I was merely checking my leg position in the reflection of the spotless window. I did give it a quizzical glance on my way home after jumping Seamus. It was a Porsche of some sort, the big one. I mentally calculated how much hay it might purchase, or how many of our staggering vet bills it might address, and I wondered if it would take care of our second mortgage. I was pretty certain that it would more than pay the salary for an on site veterinarian for a year or two. That really got me fantasizing about the opportunity to be proactive in our horse care, to have better preventative measures, and to routinely schedule dentistry for both our horses on the ranch and in pasture. The evolution of my personal values, which have always been pretty solid, have migrated over the last five years to serving our horses and those who serve them. Daily I witness the deep values of others in our organization as we have evolved into what will in the next three years be seen as the most recognizable and reputable equine rescue in the nation.
The next morning during rounds, I smiled at Bob who had pulled Styles out of the paddock that he shared with Jack. Bob was standing patiently while Styles enjoyed his morning bucket; they both were clearly enjoying the magic of the moment. Sandy was inside the stall with Jack gently coaxing him to eat his own bucket while caressing his wide old brow. Both Styles and Jack, who collectively are close to 70 years old, are nurtured by our morning and evening feeders while consuming the medication in their buckets. For the horses that we serve, it is not a prescriptive or mechanical part of their day, but an enjoyable and enriching interaction with friends who are tender and add value to their lives. It is at Red Bucket that our horses experience a level of intimacy that was previously foreign to them. They learn how to connect and bond with people and how to trust that they will be fed, cared for, and safe. Our daily consistent interactions prepare them for the final part of our mission, a forever home of their own. Our program, our training, and the carefully orchestrated enrichment is designed never to communicate the institutionalization of a shelter, but rather the warmth of a home.
Visitors comment with great regularity about Red Bucket’s meticulous grounds, the beautiful condition of our horses, and the dedicated volunteers who serve them. There is a level of commitment that is a good layer deeper and more profound than the surface of a well run organization. I can hear it when I walk by the isolation barn, and from the shadows of the stall Aileen is picking out Deaglan’s hoof, crooning softly.”I have you. It is okay.I have you,” and she does. I see it from my makeshift office, looking out of the window as Emily fills the East Paddock water trough playfully defending herself from a mouthy Dublin. Her actions are soft, light, and tender; oblivious to my gaze, she is respectful, loving, and gentle. She is also clearly enjoying him, and he knows it. I can feel it when a loving volunteer cradles a bucket for a very old horse that can no longer chew well, creating a moment that is special for them both. What often isn’t visible, tangible or apparent are the actions of our leadership team, who selflessly serve in the shadows and often work into the darkness of long days creating collateral, procuring feed and supplies, managing the newsletter, scheduling volunteers, bandaging a swollen leg, or leading the repair or renewal projects on a ranch that our horses own. The strong and powerful heart muscle of Red Bucket is full of love and pumped from very deep and unwavering values.
Visitors comment with great regularity about Red Bucket’s meticulous grounds, the beautiful condition of our horses, and the dedicated volunteers who serve them. There is a level of commitment that is a good layer deeper and more profound than the surface of a well run organization. I can hear it when I walk by the isolation barn, and from the shadows of the stall Aileen is picking out Deaglan’s hoof, crooning softly.”I have you. It is okay.I have you,” and she does. I see it from my makeshift office, looking out of the window as Emily fills the East Paddock water trough playfully defending herself from a mouthy Dublin. Her actions are soft, light, and tender; oblivious to my gaze, she is respectful, loving, and gentle. She is also clearly enjoying him, and he knows it. I can feel it when a loving volunteer cradles a bucket for a very old horse that can no longer chew well, creating a moment that is special for them both. What often isn’t visible, tangible or apparent are the actions of our leadership team, who selflessly serve in the shadows and often work into the darkness of long days creating collateral, procuring feed and supplies, managing the newsletter, scheduling volunteers, bandaging a swollen leg, or leading the repair or renewal projects on a ranch that our horses own. The strong and powerful heart muscle of Red Bucket is full of love and pumped from very deep and unwavering values.
This month’s Culture Message is dedicated to the memory of Styles, the volunteers who served him, and our donors who through their generosity make our good work possible. Styles left us having reclaimed his life and his dignity. While he never found his “forever home,” he was home, and found his family.