I Count To My Critters

Katie Leonard had agreed to an interview in person.

I was interested in meeting her for several different reasons. She'd been involved in the country-rodeo lifestyle for most of her life. We were meeting at a little cafe/coffee shoppe on a Tuesday morning. I only had one problem: Facebook pictures are what I would call kind of...weird. People look different in 2-D versus 3-D, myself included. Add to that the fact that Katie's picture was somewhat 'confusing'. It was of several different people, taken at an airport. I thought this was clever, if she'd wanted to remain anonymous. Was she the short, light-haired lady in the foreground? Was she the long,curly-haired brunette in the background, one of the persons on the edges of the picture, or 'none of the above'? (I found out later that it was that last one).

So I didn't really know who I was looking for when I approached the cafe. I happened to walk in the front door at the same time as a cute little spiky-haired woman entered. She smiled at me in such a friendly way that I thought to myself that this must be her.

"Are you Katie?" I asked.

"No, I'm Kathy," she replied. I instantly wondered if I'd somehow gotten the name wrong. Then 'Kathy' asked, "Are you Amy?"

I was....but how did she know?

It turned out that 'Kathy' was there to meet a girl named 'Amy', but not this Amy...and 'Katie' was inside, waiting for me. Just one of those weird coincidences.

Once Kathy and I understood that we were not there to meet with each other, I noticed a sparkling-eyed woman, who stood up and came toward me. I held out my hand and she ignored it, giving me a big, sisterly hug. Such is the case with Katie Leonard. She was not a hand-shaker.

I sensed that this was not going to be my usual interview...but then again, no two were ever alike. Katie immediately began with telling me that she had a lot of questions for me, not the other way around. She wanted to know how on earth a girl from Brooklyn would wind up in Idaho. It was a long story, but I tried to be brief. I got the sense that she was really interested, rather than just making conversation and trying to be 'nice'. I think she really, truly wanted to know. Her eyes did not glaze over once as I gave an account of my father getting a job as a college professor in a small college town, which had changed the course of our lives forevermore.

But I wanted to talk about Katie. She leaned forward with her twinkling, happy eyes that were full of emotion. They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. If this is the case, I can vouch that Katie's soul is a good one.

"The love for a horse is a love that is strong," Katie began. Her eyes glistened.

"I can holler 'Babies' outside in the back, and all the horses will come running to me."

One of Katie's horses had been a 'rescue' horse..which didn't mean the horse performed rescues...rather, it had been taken out of neglectful circumstances. "Butchy" had not even been able to eat grain or an apple in the beginning; he had never experienced such foods. He did, however have the 'escape artist' skills...he'd known how to escape almost any fence to go off in search of food; this was his survival tactic. He'd been severely malnourished when Katie entered his life.

She went down the list of horses. A high-spirited philly named 'Annie', so like her rider, Katie's daughter. The two of them got along well; they understood each other. 'Bobby' was the curious one, always looking around; he liked to see the scenery. You had to watch Bobby; he got a little distracted.

Katie had, she told me, no respect for those that abused horses. Her tone changed somewhat when she said this. It was obvious that she felt very strongly. She said there is 'no purer love, nothing like that unconditional love of a horse for its rider.' She also stated that she can give out that type of unconditional love to others, because she's experienced that in her life...she's received it from her horses.

"We all need to feel like we count," she said, eyes again glistening, "I count to my critters."

This was such an important part in Katie's life, that she'd wanted her daughter to have that same sort of experience, too. Katie's daughter first sat atop a horse at age four months.

"I wanted her to have that love," Katie stated.

She feels that a good goal in life for people who may have endured any type of abuse is to simply 'not treat people the way you've been treated.'

Her devotion was evident when she said, "God manifested Himself to me in my animals."

That got me to thinking that people experience evidence of God in many different ways. For Katie, it was in her horses. For me, all I have to do is get near some large body of water, or climb up on top of a mountain. The methods vary, but I understood what she was talking about. That feeling that you're not going through this life all alone...that awareness that someone else is aware of you.

Right about that time, both Katie and I got the feeling that this interview was about much more than just horses, and we both commented on that. Goodness seeps into a person's life through a kaleidoscope of avenues. Horses had been Katie's. She felt that getting that first horse had changed her path. She spoke of what horses had done for her, bringing her out of her shell, so to speak...and making her into a very welcoming person toward all walks of life. I commented on her hug, instead of the usual business-like interviewing handshake, which I normally did.

"I'm not a handshaking person," she said. "Besides, if I would've just shaken your hand, would we have been able to talk like this?" It seemed that those eyes of Katie's were now looking right through me.

She was absolutely right. Her kindness had set the tone.

Years ago, as a shy junior-high kid, I'd hardly been able to look anyone in the eye. If called upon to answer a question in a classroom setting, I'd nearly stop breathing. What would, I wondered, a horse have done for me during those awkward, lonely years?

The answer was in part in my interview with Katie. Unconditional love, and the confidence to share that with others.

Maybe I just need to go and get myself a horse. Maybe we all should.

Copyright (c) Amy Larson 2010. All Rights Reserved.