Yesterday's ride with him was perfect. When the laptop was tucked away in the saddlebags and we were just moving, it feels like my own legs are carrying me. Perhaps this is where the myth of the centaur came from? It doesn't seem so far fetched when you know the animal so well. The road to becoming this close was backwards and twisted - so many idiotic beginner mistakes. I'm so proud of all of them.
The book I am writing about him and I is not for horse or farm people, it's for women scared to become. While Merlin is the reason I was able to change and grow so much in the past three years (note, also the past three years I was learning to be self employed, dealing with anxiety and body issues, and terrified of losing my farm) He was the most solid part of that time. And learning to ride a thousand pounds of black horse is what always showed me I could overcome the next obstacle. So far I have. And for those people who would read the book - perhaps their Dark Horse is something entirely different - but the story should carry. I hope so. It's the most important thing I've wanted to write so far, the most raw, and the most real.