Le Ann BakerWhen the world is almost silent, just before the sun lights a sky tinted with fuchsia and salmon hues in the east, the crystalline winter scene at my house comes alive with the free spirit of my quarter horse mare. Her morning ritual includes a frisky frolic in anticipation of a little grain and a taste of the summer grasses past. Some would liken her antics to those coming out of chute number one at a rodeo. I am in awe of her athleticism and know she is happy to see me and our spirits connect in a completely personal way. She looks up with her big brown eyes seeing directly into my soul and at that priceless moment we both find comfort.

One pen over the silence is broken by a thunderous winded bray. It’s a miniature donkey name Dalton, wanting his piece of the attention and a taste of the morning meal. As he comes to the bunk he sticks his nose through the fence as if to offer a donkey kiss. That velvety soft spot on the end of his nose makes cotton candy feel like sand paper.

Not to be left out, Wyoming’s only zonkey, is silent, yet I can see that anticipation in her eyes. Her large ears perk ever mindful of the least flutter in the breeze or crackle of a dried leaf underfoot, while her stripes always make me smile.

I was raised on milking cows, morning and evening chores and summer vacations consisting of multiple livestock shows. As with any young person I am certain there were mornings I was less than excited to get out in the cold, evening I would have rather went to town with friends and livestock sales I would have rather missed than to sell my summertime companions.

Today, much older and wiser, I realize those experiences are responsible for the person I have become. I owe my folks, countless 4-H leaders and a couple of FFA advisors, a huge thanks. Learning to be a good steward of livestock taught me so much from responsibility/work ethic, finances and husbandry to teamwork, leadership, service, sportsmanship and compassion.

In the evenings, at the close of some less than fantastic days, I can count on the fact that three happy souls will be waiting, heads hung over the fence to welcome me home. They depend on me and trust that I won’t let them down. Their simple, constant, unconditional love offers me great joy. They always listen and never criticize.

I know the corrals will never stand empty at my place. Some of my smartest and best friends have had four legs or were the people associated with them. I no longer refer to caring for animals as chores, I just truly appreciate my two-a-day, natural therapy session.