She loves him so much. I can see it in every movement, every word, every giggle. He loves her, too, like he loves no one else. They communicate in a secret, amazing way.
Her thin, muscular legs wrap around his belly, guiding him and loving him. Her hands brush and braid his mane or his tail. Her arms wrap greedily around his thick neck while her tiny feet endure hoof smashes and the occasional tap-kick. She pretends to scold him for this in a voice dripping with patience and understanding.
She leads him in circles and urges me to ride him, teaching me what she learned while she was gone. Such an incredible trade, an unexpected gift. She cleans his hooves and extends his legs forward to stretch and cuddle some more. She combs her fingers through his long, fuzzy, gray and white winter coat. She teaches him and loves him and needs him and is needed.
She shivers in the cool breeze but insists on keeping her skin (such a beautiful olive wrapping) exposed to the sun, she craves it so much. Then I bring her a blanket anyway so she can stay warm but also cuddle against him, warm on both sides now. She is as swaddled and kissed as when she was a baby, and watching her I feel every impulse in my body as before, everything in my heart and mind firing off with love and energy and hope for the future. Her future.
She holds his hoof and he holds her heart, and at this moment everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be. And I whisper thank you, thank you, thank you to the One who makes it possible.