Refuge

Several months ago, Midnight found healing and refuge in the care of then 12-year-old Hannah LeFevre.  Hannah is the youngest daughter of my friend, Melanie, and Hannah has a passion for horses (and all other animals).  She had been looking for a horse to call her own for the last couple of years, and had been quite discouraged by the lack of contenders.  I kept suggesting that Midnight would be the perfect match for Hannah's loving heart, but Melanie was concerned that since Midnight had been neglected for more than a year, he might be hard for petite Hannah to control.  I spent quite a few months trying to convince Melanie, while at the same time, trying to convince Brett that the LeFevre home was the perfect shelter for Midnight.

Finally, after I gave up on trying, Brett called Melanie, and Hannah and Melanie went out to meet Midnight in  Duvall.  It was love-at-first-sight for Hannah, who wouldn't leave without getting her mother's permission to give Midnight a try at their home.  Melanie, with great trepidation and concern that her daughter's heart might get broken by this older "war horse," (Civil War Reenactment), consented, and Brett took Midnight over to the LeFevre pasture.

When Midnight arrived, he was sick and suffering.  Every rib stuck out, he was wormy, and his hooves were in desperate need of care.  Always timid around other horses, Midnight would never do what was necessary to push his way in for food.  He'd had a year's worth of neglect and lack of feeding, and it showed.  I went to see Midnight the day he arrived at the LeFevre's and I sobbed when I saw my poor old friend in such a sorrowful state.  It was hard to imagine that he could recover.

After the first time seeing Midnight in such a forlorn state, I couldn't bear to look at him again.  I felt so responsible for what had happened to him - as if I had contributed to his desertion.  I imagined that he looked at me as if to say: "How could you let this happen to me?"  I asked myself the same question.

When it was determined that Izzy, Aslan and I would also join Midnight at the LeFevre "sanctuary," I wondered what it would be like for me to see Midnight on a daily basis.  I wondered if I would feel a constant sense of guilt.  My first night at the house, I couldn't even look up from boxes and bedding to take a look outside.  I was utterly exhausted, aching and overwhelmed.  I collapsed into bed at the end of a long and grueling day, and tried to empty my mind of everything that had just transpired.

The next day, Sunday, I was talking to Melanie and Dave in the kitchen, when Hannah called out for me to come to the front door.  Hannah is a delightful magic fairy child, and I love being in her presence.  I eagerly moved to the front to see what was on her mind.  When I arrived at the open doorway, there stood a grinning Hannah, with Midnight at her side!  I could hardly recognize him from the destitute creature I had sobbed over just a few months earlier.  Now, Midnight glowed with health as a result of the love that had been poured out on him.  I have never seen him more responsive, his coat more shiny, his hair more neatly combed, and his spirit so relaxed and . . . happy.  Yes, happy, and as I watched him greet Isabeau in their old loving way, and observed Hannah's tender care of him, I felt happy, too.  My heart welled up with the feeling, and I gave way to it.  There seemed to be a little whisper coming from Midnight to me saying: "If I can get better, so can you."

Hannah spends almost every waking moment with Midnight, and if possible, I believe she would sleep in his barn with him.  She makes him "apple sandwiches" and custom-blended grated carrots mixed with honey and oats for snacks.  She can be quite firm with him, too, and she is teaching him not only to canter, but also to jump hurdles, something he has never done before, but gladly does for Hannah.

At almost any time of the day, I can look outside and see Hannah riding Midnight bareback, with her hair streaming behind in the wind, as she runs full tilt through the course she has set up, complete with obstacles for him to maneuver around.  What makes this particular scene even more charming is to watch Hannah's little Dacshound, Jasper (Jazz) run full force behind Midnight and Hannah, circling the course as they have, as if he thought that he, too was the most magnificent and beloved steed.

Hannah is currently practicing standing while riding Midnight, and so far, this is the only condition under which I have seen her use a saddle.  Midnight obediently and willingly does anything that Hannah instructs him to do.  He knows, as I do, that Hannah has saved his life, and brought new hope to his heart.

As for Isabeau (Izzy) and Aslan, they have already been soaking in the relaxation that comes with the LeFevre household.  Anthony and TJ Leafty had moved my bed, nightstands, and dining room table to "my room" at the LeFevre's a week before our actual move.  While Izzy and Aslan had been quite upset the two weeks prior to the actual move, once they saw all of the familiar surroundings at the LeFevre's, they settled down immediately.  No transition period for them, whatsoever.  What makes life even more fascinating for them, is that our room looks out over the chicken coop, where there is constant daily activity that begins at 4:15 every morning when the rooster lets us know - quite clearly and often - that the sun is about to come up.  They are both convinced that the show is completely for their own entertainment, and they soak in every moment.

Isabeau's Perpetual Position at the Le Fevre Home

Aslan Looking Towards Midnight in His Pasture

Melanie (on the left) is an extraordinary person - Hannah (and the other LeFevre kids) come by their magical qualities quite naturally.  Melanie is a master gardener, takes care of the llamas, chickens, goats, cow and two dogs, works as a massage therapist (tremendously gifted), and gives smiles and love all around to anyone lucky enough to be in her presence.  She has made me and my little family feel very much at home here, in the largest and most beautiful room in the house.  Sharla Dance (on the right) has long been a treasured friend, and lives only a few blocks away.  I took this picture on my first Sunday here, while we walked through the garden, picked fresh berries, kale, and gathered ingredients for our daily morning "green smoothie."  Melanie and I have made an agreement to support one another in healthy eating and living, and I am being quite dedicated to exercise and good, organic food. 

This life is so "normal" and so very different than the life I have been living for the last year-and-a-half!  The windows of our room look out not only on the chickens, but also on Midnight in one direction, and the garden in the other.  It is a beautiful "bed-and-breakfast suite," and I can hardly believe my good fortune!

Hannah, sister Larisa, and Sharla's daughter, Jeanna, all check on the tender garden plants.  In the two weeks since this picture was taken, this garden area has exploded with life.

Overall, things seem to thrive at the LeFevre farmstead.  Because of this, I surprisingly haven't felt any rush to move to my new home; I am trying to live in the present, and follow Melanie's urging that I allow this to be a time of healing for me.  I believe Midnight is right in the secret he shared with me: all of us can find health and happiness at the LeFevre sanctuary.