Letters to a little white horse.
January 2024
Dear Pippin,
Yes! Happy New Year. I love this photo of us from the Christmas show last month (our second time performing at Luke’s!) It looks like you’re smiling (which most of the time I think you actually are.) Afterwards, all the kids lined up in the barn aisle to pet you, and you were so gentle and tolerant and kind, even lowering your head when they couldn’t quite reach all the way up to you.
We accomplished a lot together in 2023… We learned sending circles, we competed in the obstacles class at ILHA down in Ketucky, you learned to stand still for sprays and baths without even wearing a halter, and I’m finally sitting on your back again. I am so proud of you. Of us.
The day before New Year’s Eve John and I watched True Spirit on Netflix. The movie was about Jessica Watson who, at 16 years old, was the youngest person to sail around the world solo. She knew even when she was a little kid that this was her dream and she was determined to make it happen, being bold about asking for help, not taking no for answers, and focusing hard on what must have seemed like such a far away goal. In a moment of clarity for me (I even got goosebumps) her dream made me think of you and my own dream: to ride you across Vermont — from St. Johnsbury to Swanton — on the Lamoille Valley Rail Trail.
The LVRT
I know I’ve mentioned this idea in passing before, but for whatever reason while watching this movie I felt it more deeply in my bones. Dreams sometimes feel like maybe-things swirling around somewhere up in the clouds, but when you finally decide to pluck one out — or, really, when one decides to come down to earth and pick you — there’s somehow more weight to it. It’s not just fluff and possibility. It’s serious. There’s work to do.
I don’t think this dream would have picked us if it didn’t think you would love it too— you are adventurous, you’re curious, and you definitely enjoy making new friends. Buuuut you can still get pretty nervous about things and your first instinct is to kinda panic if you’re not sure about something. We’ve been working through a lot of this on the ground and you come down from being up sooo much faster than you used to, but I still think that YOU think you are all on your own out there.
Some people say that because you are an Arabian you will always be reactive and spooky and might never be a reliable ride, but I refuse to believe this. Who knows what your life was like before the rescue saved you, and you haven’t had a lot of consistent support over the years I am sure, but I am telling you now: You can count on me. You don’t have to take on the whole world by yourself.
So while the rail trail dream-coming-true might be some years away (we don’t even live in Vermont yet) we can start working toward it right now. This year I choose to be determined and more focused. We need to practice clarity and consistency while pushing our comfort zones a little. Yes, we still need to have all the fun that we do, but it’s also time to start asking some harder things of ourselves. On the trail we’ll have to contend with whizzing cyclists, runners, dogs, random wildlife, traffic while crossing big roads, and lord knows what else, so we need to be solid.
We. Can. Do. This.
I believe in you!
ps — More letters this year, I promise!
ABOUT “DEAR PIPPIN”
In the covid April of 2020, when everyone else was adopting rescue dogs and cats, a rescue horse came into my life. He was a 9 year-old Arabian I named Pippin. The whirlwind of being a new horse owner made it difficult to sit down to write about the experience anywhere else but in my journal. I’d been neglecting my blog, and when I finally did want to start sharing our story I didn’t know where to begin— so much had happened it felt overwhelming.
It’s funny, though, how the right idea will often present itself seemingly out of the blue: reading through my journals I found that I’d written Pippin occasional letters, and these felt more real and less “crafted” than any blog post I tried to write. So I started writing more of them and am now giving Dear Pippin a space of its own. While I consider this project a personal one — I look forward to having an archive of letters to read as the years go by! — sharing these letters somehow just made sense. (And I actually think it’s Pippin who wanted me to share them with you.)
This page on my website serves to introduce Dear Pippin and will always display my most recent letter, but my “correspondence” lives over HERE on Substack. Click the button above to visit and read more letters.
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