by Anna Twinney 

Part I:  The Departure

The day I decided to take the colt home was the day he died in my arms. 

“Is he always this calm?” James asked me as he examined Bravo.  Running a close eye over the young handsome buckskin’s conformation and recognizing bone structure and temperament, James continued: Is this young colt up for adoption?”  As I heard his words, I felt an overwhelming swelling of love for this young Mustang and heard myself say, “No, he’s actually coming to Colorado with me.”

It was a typical winter in California, cool and rainy.  I had assisted and been present for many visits from the veterinarian over the years.  James, the vet, arrived at the Sanctuary to examine and assist with a number of issues, just like every other time he had come; or so I thought.  We were preparing Bravo for what was supposed to be a routine castration and once he settled into the sedation induced sleep James began to… “do the honors.” 

Throughout the procedure, my handsome Australian Shepherd Merlin, who is most intuitive, continually asked to come into the stall and “assist.”  I told him to wait on the outside so that he didn’t disturb Bravo and wouldn’t get hurt should there be any unexpected movements.  He left but within a few moments returned and lied down by Bravo’s side.  I guess it didn’t fully register for me, and I told Merlin once again to wait on the outside, reassuring him that Bravo was fine and he had nothing to be concerned about.

Once James finished, we wandered down memory lane discussing this and that, waiting for Bravo to awaken.  As James gathered his instruments, we realized that more time had gone by than was usual for a horse to be lying flat out.  I mentioned my concerns and he informed me that during the operation he had noticed that Bravo’s inaugural rings, the entrance from the intestines to the testicles, were oversized.  He said that this was something that could not have been determined until he actually performed the procedure and I should keep a close look out for any abnormalities as he begins to heal from the surgery.  If I were to see anything out of the ordinary I was to call him immediately.  But a few moments later, none of that would matter. 

We roused Bravo, out of his very deep sleep.  He raised his head, began to get up from the ground and the world turned up-side-down.  As a former Police Officer, I was not what you’d call faint of heart.  I had seen many things that would likely disturb the average person.  For me it was just part of the job.  But I was not prepared for what I was about to experience next.  As I looked at Bravo his intestines begin to flow out of his body like spaghetti.  In seconds, they hit the ground.  My heart sank as tears began to pour down my face. 

James ran to his truck to find the right tools.  I radioed for back-up as this young colt ran into my arms.  I cradled his head feeling helpless; the fear in his eyes desperately asking me what was happening.  I had no answers for him.  All the time I had cared for him I could always solve any problem he had.  Now all I could do was comfort this terrified horse as he died in my arms.

As others came to help they could see the trauma written on all of our faces.  James returned to the scene and told us he had no choice, but to put Bravo to sleep.  He had never experienced such a tragic castration in his whole career, but he knew there was nothing more he could do for the young colt.  It all happened too fast.  The only sign of trouble I had was Merlin trying to tell me something was wrong and I just didn’t understand.  He remained curled up by Bravo’s side for hours.

Part II:  The Message

Several months later, my close friend was talking with Bravo.  As an animal communicator, she was able to connect people with animals who had passed on to the other side; helping to heal the hearts of both.  I felt the time had come to try to communicate with him.  She connected immediately and told me things only he and I knew; things personal to our relationship. 

As an animal communicator myself, I knew how to connect to him as well.  However, it’s common for animal communicators to consult others when it comes to their own animals as the strong emotions and desires can confuse the information received making it difficult to hear clearly.  

He opened his conversation by saying: “I am not dumb!”  I knew exactly what he was talking about remembering when a friend of mine referred to him as such.  This was confirmation that we had indeed “found” my gentle colt.  I was speaking with Bravo. 

He then, to my delight, informed me that he would be returning to me in two years, when I was really ready for him.  He would come back as either a Grulla or a Buckskin colt.  I would meet him at approximately nine months of age.  He would be brought up untouched as a Mustang out in pasture and would have a dorsal stripe and three swirls. 

I had been studying the impact of swirls for more than a decade with over 1,000 horses to date.  Not only had it been proven that the swirls indicate extreme personalities and intelligence, but it was also something I wanted in my horse, a secret I had told no one. 

As Bravo, he was known to many to be pretty docile.  I, having the pleasure of gentling and weaning him, saw all of him.  He had two sides to his personality – a curious gentle side and one that was full of beans, often kicking up his heals on our walks together.  Now with his return imminent, I couldn’t wait to see what he be like the next time around.

Part III:  The Return

Life sometimes has a way of getting you to where you need to be even when you don’t think you want to go.  And as I found out the number three is still filled with magic. 

In January 2007, I was invited to give a short speech at a local gathering in Livermore, Colorado in support of the Mustangs.  The meeting, a good 2-½ hour drive from my home (one way!), would take place in the evening for just a few hours.  As I’m always pleased to be able to support and bring awareness to the American Mustang, I gladly accepted the invitation. 

That winter was a rather unique one in Colorado.  Living at 9000 feet in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains we had record snow falls (I stopped counting after about 18 feet of accumulation) and unbeknownst to me when I agreed to speak, the meeting would be postponed twice due to extreme weather conditions.  With a very full schedule and travels that take me around the Globe for more than 10 months of the year, this could have proven to be a difficult event to attend.  Finally, on the third attempt to reschedule the meeting, I was unsure whether I wanted to endure over five hours of driving to give a 10-minute lecture but, as I always honor my commitments, I decided to go.   

I arrived in the cold and dark to an extremely warm and bright welcome.  After meeting some very dedicated people, committed to the cause, I gave my well received, very short speech and was ready to begin the long drive home.  After the meeting, I was asked if I would like to help feed the horses.  With temperatures at near freezing I wasn’t too keen to even venture into the cold let alone go throw hay.  I politely declined the offer and decided to stay in the warmth by the fire.  One. 

Only a few moments later one of the volunteers who did go out to feed the horses came back inside.  The ice cold weather was exacerbating her lung condition and she couldn’t continue.  In passing, she asked if I could go outside to assist instead, but, as most of the work was done, there really was no need for me to help at this point.  Again I decided to stay inside.  Two.  None the less, my conscience got the better of me and I popped my head around the corner only to find that the young horses were already in their pens. 

Gabriele, who originally asked for my help, motioned for me to visit with her and again I questioned if she really needed me to come outside as the deed was already done.  This time she suggested I come and look at the young colts.  At this point I got the message.  I braced for the cold and ventured to the corral.  Three.

Within seconds I saw this young, what appeared to be nine-month old colt looking right at me.  I could see a Grulla colored head and yet his body was another color.  I asked Gabrielle to encourage him to walk over to the light.  As he approached I could see a cute Grulla head with a buckskin body and when he reached the light I discovered three swirls on his forehead. 

“This can’t be happening,” I thought, “It can’t be him.”  Then I saw it, the long, very obvious dorsal stripe and zebra stripes on his legs – the dorsal stripe had two stripes going over his withers creating the appearance of a cross. 

“This is Gaultier,” she pronounced.  I immediately began to ask questions about the young guy, his history, his handling, but there was really only one question going through my mind, a question I couldn’t ask.

I learned that he had come from the Spanish Mustang Registry in Oshoto, Wyoming where he was born and raised by his family on more than 4,500 acres.  He was nine-months old and pretty much unhandled, although sociable.  He was classed as a Slate Buckskin. 

The most amazing piece of the puzzle was, just days before, I had called a couple of my friends and asked them to be on the look-out for a young Mustang colt giving this full description.  I was ready to invite him into my life and here he was right in front of my eyes…If the question was “is this possible?” the answer was standing in front of me, staring right at me and it was, “Yes!”

I left feeling elated and confused all at once.  As with all good things that come into your life, you question them and then the doubts begin to creep in.  Had the Universe truly answered my prayers?  There were just so many questions and I wasn’t sure if this really was the right time.  If I were to make this commitment, it would have to be for life or at least with the promise that I would do my best to honor him.  Who would take care of him during my absence?  Where could he be homed?  My prayers had been answered and yet I found myself questioning.  I began to look for some answers.  I confided in a number of close friends and they all told me that this colt was “woven from the same cloth” as Bravo.  There are only so many signs you can ignore before you have to take that leap of Faith. 

So on my birthday I invited “Excalibur” into my life.  My husband and I decided to rename X, as he is fondly known to us.  We chose a name that he could rise into, a name that would represent his strength and magnificence in years to come.  He is now a very special part of our family. 

I am often asked what Excalibur’s role is to be in my life and my response is always the same, it is up to him to make that decision.  If he enjoys the lime-light, then he is welcome to assist me in educating the world on gentle communication.  If, on the other hand, he prefers the quiet life then we shall enjoy our special time together here in the Mountains.  The choice is his.

About Anna Twinney:

Anna Twinney is an internationally respected Animal Communicator, Equine Specialist, Natural Horsemanship Clinician, and Reiki Master.  She has been featured on TV, national and international magazines and travels the world educating people and horses working in the horse's own language.  As the founder of the Reach Out to Horses® program, she remains on the cutting-edge of genuine, gentle communication techniques with all our planetary companions.  For more information on Anna and the Reach Out to Horses program go to www.reachouttohorses.com.