What if, every presidential hopeful had to go into the corral with a few horses? America could stand outside the corral and tally up the results. Which types of horses would gravitate to what people? Would some candidates be left off to the side?
I moved my horses recently, and I took the gravestone I’d had made for my departed gelding Khami with us. I was concerned that we would have to create a new sacred space at the new location, because the horses would no longer have Khami’s grave to roll on. A few days before the move I went out to the grave and it had rained hard so the center was squishy, smooth mud that took on the appearance of the surface of peanut butter upon opening a new jar. One of the horses had walked around the mud center, hoofprints marking the perimeter of the grave. (originally published November 20, 2015)