A sweet, gentle and beautiful Quarter
Horse mare named Daylight lives on a ranch nestled alongside Wyoming’s Nowood
River. Daylight hails from a long line of working ranch and cowhorses—her
pedigree includes Blue Valentine and Hancock horses—but she isn’t broke.
In the lingo of the West, “broke” refers
to a horse that is generally safe to ride and doesn’t buck. Many horsemen don’t
like to use the term because back in the Dark Ages of horsemanship, it was
widely believed that a horse’s will and spirit had to be broken before he or
she could be of use to mankind. The end justified the means, and sometimes the
means were unspeakably cruel.
Back to Daylight’s story: Some years
ago, Daylight was given to Maria by her husband-to-be, Skip Eastman. The wild,
unhandled two-year old was to become Maria’s dream horse. “Daylight was the
first horse I worked with while learning the traditions of Ray Hunt, Buck
Branaman, and the Dorrances. Daylight opened my eyes to a whole new way. I
thought she was magical.”
But Maria’s life got too busy to work
much with Daylight. Then a series of mistakes, mishaps and mishandling by other
trainers convinced the young mare that saddles and riders were frightening and
intolerable. Bucking them off was a viable option; since she was strong and
athletic, she was quite good at it. Trainers gave up and suggested that the
Eastmans to consign her to the bucking horse sale in Miles City, Montana.
Instead, Maria brought Daylight home and
spent many hours trying to regain Daylight’s trust. Still Daylight bucked. When
Maria wound up in the hospital with her skull split open, she and Skip
considered putting Daylight down but finally decided to give the mare a chance
in Maria’s equine assisted learning and therapy program, Rainhorse.
To the Eastman’s amazement, Daylight shone
(and still shines) brightly as a therapy horse, helping children and adults
find self-worth, wisdom, confidence and healing. More than one youngster actually told
them, “Daylight saved my life.”
One delightful autumn day, I was greatly
honored to be invited to participate in Wyoming Veterans Warhorse, a Rainhorse
program for military veterans (although I’m not one). Daylight volunteered to
be my equine partner for the afternoon.
When we worked alone in the round pen on
a “joining up” exercise, I was thrilled when Daylight followed me around
without a halter or rope and even adjusted her pace to mine. Daylight’s eyes
were captivating. She kept watching me, even when she was turned loose with the
other horses, and when I talked to her, she looked straight into my eyes with
an expression that said I know.
Somehow, Daylight knows. She may not
know exactly what happened, but she knows that it did. She doesn’t know who did
it, but she knows that they did. She understands that it was meant to break me
and almost did. She knows the fight it's taken to remain unbroken.
I am truly sorry that Daylight suffered
and that Maria’s head and heart and dreams were broken. But I am so grateful
that Daylight bucked, that she refused to accept the unacceptable, that she's unbroken.
Daylight. (Photo courtesy of Phil Eastman)
“And the Light shines on in the darkness, for
the darkness has never overpowered it.” –John
1:5 (AMP)
