This is my last blog entry for 2010. Although the goal all year was to post every Monday, I missed a few weeks and sometimes I was late. This week, again, I am late but there are reasons.
Each week throughout the year I wrote about something that had affected me that week - an event, a persistant thought - but this time, even with Christmas, nothing was uppermost in my mind that was worthy of comment . . . until I received a card from a friend. Inside were two hawk feathers.
Sending feathers to me is true to my friend's character. It's something she would not hesitate to do. She told me she found the feathers by the house and thought of me. Why? I don't know. She probably doesn't know. She would not search for a reason; she would just accept the message.
All week I had been watching for a sign connecting events of my life. The coinciding of a full moon, a lunar eclipse and winter solstice on December 20th intrigued me (and I stayed up to watch it), but didn't trigger any earth-shattering revelation although I searched for one. 
Christmas came and went along with a 12-hour power outage. Still nothing. I was waiting for a sign, a feeling, something I had to get down on paper such as had inspired blog posts all year. Nothing . . . until the feathers arrived in the mail.
Wolves adorned the front of the card my friend sent to me. That was no accident. She knows I admire the wolf and his way of life, his loyalty most of all. That's why the wolf is the "mascot" for Wildwood Reining Horses. What my friend did not know is that I had chosen a name for the Wimpys Little Step foal arriving in the spring if it is a filly - Feather. Is this a sign? Will it be a filly? Only time will tell. One thing for sure, though, my friend and I had connected . . . through hawk feathers.
Hawk feathers are believed to protect, which is why native people tied them at the door of their homes. Feathers are also believed to be the carriers of spiritual messages and were filled with prayer and released to waft heavenward. Faith.
So, on the last day of the year, I will spend a quiet day at home with my animals. I will think of my family and friends in other parts of the country. I may contemplate some more on the meaning of the gift of feathers and maybe, just maybe, I will take them outside, whisper a prayer into them and let them go.
Happy New Year!
2010 will be the 12th Christmas Kirby has shared with me. Many of those Christmas mornings, it was just the two of us as it will be this year. The photo below was the first.
...and this one was taken last year.
Every spring Kirby has "helped" me foal out my mares. She sleeps in the barn with me, checks the newest addition from the door of the stall and later, herds the baby outside as I lead the mare. None of my mares mind. And she also plays with the babies in the field, although it annoys her when she's digging out moles and the foal pesters her to play. I don't think Kirby will be with me this spring. She certainly won't be herding or playing with the new foals. She probably won't be with the mares and I when they foal either. It won't be the same without her.
She has spent hours in the arena watching me ride...
...or, given the opportunity, would "lead" my horse...
Kirby lives with me, travels with me, sleeps beside my bed and, most of all, provides unconditional love. I could write pages about her - years of memories, dozens of pictures recorded in my mind along with those of Tanya, Tatum and Mandy, Samoyeds gone before. 
After the CFR, I took Duchess to Saskatoon to have her knee x-ayed. The x-rays revealed bone chips and calcium deposits. I had to lay her off. I turned her out for a year and she came back sound. Although I barrel raced her lightly for one more season, I feared heavy competition might damage the knee permanently. In 1977, I bred her and she went on to found a dynasty of quality Quarter Horses. The photo below, taken in 1999, shows Duchess with her daughter, Mahogany, granddaughter Tamarac and Tamarac's first six fillies.
After Duchess retired from raising foals, she babysat the broodmares and their babies. She always told us when a mare's time was near. She also taught my grandchildren to ride. Below is a photo of Kendra on Duchess when she was 32.
In 2002, four descendent generations of Duchess lived with me - Wildwood Mahogany, Wildwood Tamarac, Wildwood Destiny and Wildwood Magic Miss, all mares I had trained and shown. For her 36th birthday present that year I made her a memory box and stored Duchess memorablia inside. It's covered inside and out with a collage of photos and clippings. She died later that year, but what a dynasty she has founded. The photo below, taken in 1999, shows some of her family. Duchess and Mahogany are at the back. 
3. Tuffy. This little black terrier cross was a bundle of energy. The story I remember most is how he learned to "Go to the house." Apparently, Mom and Dad had rounded up a bunch of yearlings and were trying to get them through a gate into the barn yard. As yearlings usually are, they were plenty spooky and it was all Mom and Dad could do to hold them together at the gate to start pushing them through. That's when Tuffy appeared . . . and would not "go to the house" as Mom ordered him to do. Of course, they lost the yearlings who scattered. Furious, Mom chased Tuffy on horseback (with Dad telling her to stop or she was going to fall on the slippery, icy ground) until Tuffy didn't know where else to go BUT the house. After that, anyone could tell him to "go to the house" and he tucked his tail between his legs and left.
"I won't be there to wean the calves," Harold said to me on the phone from his hospital bed last night. He had just been hospitalized in Saskatoon for heart problems. I guess he'll miss one roundup this year, but there'll be others.
Wildwood Liberty and Terry Lee Sapergia at the Canadian Supreme 2009 (Photo by Sharon Latimer)
I think this might be what is called "living in the present". If it is, I want it - every day.
The smoke thinned as I travelled and my spirits lifted. When I reached the lake, only a haze lingered over the mountains. I unloaded Whisper, hobbled her to graze, made myself something to eat, then started to organize for the ride the next morning. I checked my backpack for survival items, leaving lots of room for camera equipment and tied the saddlebags on the saddle.
I wanted to explore the Crest Route more, so when I spotted an access, I left the trail to climb to the crest and a spectacular view. I dismounted and sat a spell by Whisper, who like I, seemed fascinated by what she could see.
