05/14/2026
Lately I have received several messages from bodywork clients telling me their horses are moving better, grazing comfortably again, relaxing into work, softening emotionally, or finally beginning to let go of tension after injury, stress, or long periods of discomfort.
Some are older horses who struggled to simply put their heads down to eat.
Some are performance horses with mysterious issues nobody could quite put their finger on.
Some are deeply reactive horses who needed patience before they could even begin to trust the process.
Every single message means more to me than I can possibly express
And strangely enough, they keep bringing me back to a memory that never made it into my book.
When I was quite young, I was already hopelessly horse obsessed. On the way to my grandmother’s house there was an elderly man who owned miniature horses. One day we stopped to ask if we could see them, and over time we became very close friends.
One afternoon we were sitting at his picnic table talking about the horses when he suddenly took my hands in his. He (Dave) turned them over carefully and stared at them for a long moment before he started tearing up.
Then he said something that quietly followed me through my entire life:
“Your hands are going to heal and save so many lives.”
That summer, his favorite little mare had a terrible colic episode. He was older and couldn’t physically manage walking her through the night. He told us he couldn’t afford the vet and had actually been trying to sell the herd. He said if I could save her, I could keep her.
We brought her home.
I remember spending the entire day and night watching her. Walking her. Monitoring every tiny change. My cousins were over and angry with me because I would not leave the horse to go jump on the trampoline or play outside with them. I was exhausted, worried sick, and absolutely determined that mare was going to make it through the night.
And she did.
We returned her a few days later because we had nowhere to keep a miniature horse amongst our full-sized herd. The old man cried when he saw her. Turns out, she was his favorite too.
A few weeks later, she delivered a foal nobody even knew she was carrying.
After that, he let me name all of his little horses because, as he put it, “these hands have magic.”
I would never claim that of myself.
But sometimes, when clients message me about their horses finding comfort again... when a guarded horse finally releases… when an older horse moves easier… when an owner tells me they feel like they got a piece of their horse back…
I stop and wonder if maybe Dave saw something long before I ever could.
Thank you all for trusting me with your horses and their bodywork. Truly.
For allowing that little girl who always held these animals in the highest regard to grow into someone who gets to spend her life listening to their stories through movement, tension, softness, and healing.
It is one of the greatest honors to lay hands on these magnificent animals and help them find comfort, trust, and relief wherever I can.
