So Lauren did a post today about Simon and how awesome he is... and how the emotional connection she has with him makes it impossible to set a value on him.
If I had to set a value on Tucker, I'd probably say it's a million dollars. Because if I had a million dollars, I could invest it, so that when this foolish buyer realized he's not actually worth a million dollars, I could just buy him right back. Because that's how that would go. I could not stand to be without him for any sum. And luckily, horses, unlike people, can't just decide they don't want to be with you anymore. Well, I mean I guess he could just wander off in the middle of the night, but he's afraid to be alone, and he likes food, so... I digress.
Back to the point! So what kind of emotional value does Tucker have?
Well, when I feel helpless, he gives me a chance to help him not be afraid of the cat killing a bird under a bush. (Which actually happened this weekend. We were on pavement, and for a moment I thought, "So. This is how it ends.")
When I am sad, he will take me galloping through an open field as fast as we can go, and he never acts naughty, so I can just enjoy feeling free.
When I am happy, he is happy. He's pretty much always happy, actually.
When I feel like I can't do anything right, he'll help me get an 8.0 on a perfectly square halt.
When I need comfort, he will let me cry, or think, or even ramble on like a nut, and just be "there" for me in a quiet, comfortable way that most people can't.
When I feel like I don't really matter, he hears my voice and comes happily strolling up to the gate with his ears up because I'm his person.
When I need to have some fun, he is up for a mimosa and a trail ride.
When I feel like a failure, he gives me all these accomplishments to look back on.
When I feel like I'm giving and not getting in return, he shows up for me tenfold and I'm reminded that sometimes those efforts do get rewarded.
When my self-esteem tanks, he reminds me to be proud of myself.
When I need to feel like I've accomplished something, he gives me plenty of things to work on. And sometimes that's all you need in order to feel better.
He teaches me that sometimes you have to be softer and gentler in order to get what you really want.
He teaches me that there is always something to be happy about, even if it's pouring rain.
He teaches me that our world is a beautiful place, and that getting out and feeling the sunshine on your face can really turn your day around.
He teaches me that success is not linear, and a setback does not equal failure.
He makes me feel stronger, and taller, and faster, and braver, and better than I am.
Someone said to me recently, "you've said your horse is your number one priority." It was said with a negative connotation, but I said "Yes, he is," without hesitation or apology. His happiness, his health, his soundness, his well being, and his comfort will always come first. And maybe that makes me a little bit crazy, but it's part of who I am. How could you put a dollar value on something that important?