Spiritual Cowboys and Sociable Horses

I don’t usually talk or write about my clients lives, but sometimes stories emerge that are just too good to keep to myself. Yesterday two of these interesting stories emerged, both phone readings, both Alberta clients.

The first story was a classic case of a psychic message having difficulty piercing through my rational mind.

The client was a cowboy, and he is a lovely man and a pleasure to read for. My problem was in understanding what I was seeing in his energy. I was seeing him doing yoga. A past life perhaps?

No, that didn’t seem right. Cowboys, even the modern-day variety who work for consortiums, carry cell phones on the range, look after thousands of cows, and, in this case, are soothed at the end of the day by a Reiki-practicing wife, even this kind of cowboy would not practice yoga. Would he?

Finally, cautiously covering what I was seeing by cloaking my vision in a generalization, I said, “It looks like you have adopted a very serious spiritual practice.”

He said, “You mean my yoga practice? Yes, I started about four years ago. I feel like I’ve been doing it all my life.”

Lives, I thought.

This is a classic case of me not trusting the accuracy of a vision.

The same day, a few hours later, I was on the phone with another Alberta client when I saw horses around the client, and since it wasn’t a risky vision like the yoga-practicing cowboy, I said, “I see horses.”

She said, “No, not horses, just one horse, and three cats.”

The woman went on to ask a question about a trip she and a friend are planning into the interior of BC—she, a friend and their horses. This client has what she described as a live-in horse trailer, and her friend does as well. She doesn’t like to leave her horse behind when she travels.

“He’s a very social horse,” she said.

In my ignorance of horses, I asked how a horse demonstrates social ability.

She explained that this horse loves people and doesn’t mind at all being taken out of her trailer to interact with people, especially kids and even dogs, even in the middle of the city.

The client said, “She hops into the trailer quite happily when I bring it to the barn.” This left me with an image of a mix between a kangaroo and a horse. But while I was still processing that picture the woman said, “Of course, this horse is not nearly as social as the horse who loved to watch M*A*S*H.”

She went on to explain that when M*A*S*H was still a new TV series, she owned a horse who used to arrive outside the patio door every weekday at 5 p.m. exactly. The horse was at M*A*S*H fan. He didn’t like to be a petted, fed or disturbed during his favourite show, and he would saunter away happily at 5:30 when the show was over.

I thought about sharing a story about my Yorkshire terrier, Siriuss, who watches TV with me, and especially likes Cesar, the dog whisperer, but somehow a TV-watching dog doesn’t seem that interesting compared to an appointment TV-watching horse.