Hi Everybody,
More often than not, I use this space to write about my experiences with the rescues I visit, but today I’m inspired to shine a spotlight on an amazing 13 Hands volunteer.
If you’ve spent any Saturday at 13 Hands, there’s a chance you’ve met Wendi, whose warmth and enthusiasm for horses is unmistakable. You might have waved to her as she moved a donkey or two into the barn for a vet visit, smashed ice in a frozen water bucket for a herd of minis, or fiddled with the new halters she bought for Dunkin, Wynter, and Rascal. You might have asked her a question – something like, “Who is that paint pony over there?” – and you would have gotten an answer that exudes both her knowledge and her eagerness to share: “Oh, that’s so-and-so, and he’s been here just a few months, and already he’s doing so well and loves attention!” And suddenly you’re smiling because Wendi’s smile and excitement about being on the farm are totally infectious.
I met Wendi a few years ago when we were both new volunteers. We introduced ourselves to each other and had a conversation about the donkeys braying in the background, how cool they were, how grateful we were to have access to so many magnificent animals. I immediately thought, this is someone special – and I was right.
Every week, Wendi drives to 13 Hands from her home in Massachusetts to be with the horses. She calls 13 Hands her “happy place,” the place she fully loves for the sense of peace it brings her. You might think “a sense of peace” means sitting and taking in the view. Not true for Wendi. Once she arrives at the farm, she’s on the move. Her energy and dedication keep her walking through rain, snow, ice, and wind. Wendi shared with me that on a given Saturday at the farm, she might reach 18,000 steps. I’m in awe, especially because I know that each and every one of her footprints is delivered with care and concern for every rescue she encounters.
Although it’s rare to see Wendi in a resting position, this past week we sat on hay feeders and chatted, as mini mares Nutmeg, Cecilia, and Desert Rose practically threw themselves at her, vying for her attention. We all know that horses are sensitive, intuitive souls, and that might be the most true for rescues who have suffered trauma. The fact that so many of the rescues trust Wendi immediately and fully is no surprise. Like the rest of us who know Wendi, they sense how gentle and kind she is, how invested she is in their safety, their comfort, their well-being.
After we chatted and showered the mini mares with face rubs, we wandered over to the thoroughbreds – four young, majestic horses I’m just getting to know. Vivid, BayBay, and Okie – tall, handsome geldings – and Kiss, the only mare in the paddock, are gaining confidence with humans, becoming more and more social with visitors. Still, I’m told, they can be wary. You wouldn’t have known that, though. When Wendi entered their field, BayBay approached her and put his head down for some scratches, and Kiss and Okie were not far behind. Although Vivid stuck to his hay, he eyed her approvingly and watched his mates soak up her attention. Collectively, their body language spoke of Wendi as an old friend. This was true, too, when our visit was over and we walked towards the gate to leave. Okie and Kiss were by Wendi’s side, their little herd waving goodbye to one of its own.
When I got into my car to head home, I couldn’t shake the idea of 18,000 steps. I looked it up; that’s roughly eight and a half miles. It seemed an enormous figure to me, and I’m still in awe. But I also know that it’s a small fraction of what Wendi brings to the farm each week: immeasurable compassion, boundless energy, and unwavering commitment.
How lucky we all are to know her.
Until next time,
Karen
