Receiving Comfort from Special Friends Long Gone
Throughout my life I’ve mined my imagination when I need to escape stressful situations. I use this skill to transport myself to a happy place and time. Memory is my greatest tool as I close my eyes, breathe, and think of some places and situations I loved. Doing this has kept me from crumbling in moments where it would be preferable to stay calm.
Recently, I had some major dental pain that resulted in my needing a root canal, toot sweet. Ugh! I’ve become more anxious about dental work as I’ve gotten older, so with the pain, the anxiety about the expense, and the fact I was already freaking out about the procedure before I entered the dentist’s office, I knew I needed a plan.
It’s times like these when I really understand horses who lose it with the farrier or veterinarian. I wished my doc would just slip me some acepromazine, but no such luck. So I had my “escape” plan in mind as I sat down in the chair: a memory of sailing on a mountain lake high in the Sierras. There was the bright sun, the blue sky, the clear water, the catamaran flying across the lake, and the sail flapping in the wind. But then, whoosh, the sailboat disappeared, and I was riding a horse I once knew during those same years. I let the sailboat go and went with the horse instead.
Sage was a great mountain horse—16 hands, 1400 pounds, powerful and careful on the most difficult trails; he’d belonged to a woman who competed him successfully in competitive trail riding. The woman had recently passed away and she’d left Sage to the owners of the pack station where I worked. I’ve never forgotten him. This memory started me down a path of remembering all the great horses I’ve known in my life. I’m grateful for the blessing of each one of them—the easy, the difficult, the challenged, the deeply broken, the talented, the big-hearted—they have all helped me and blessed me.
And so there I was in the dentist’s chair, remembering horses long gone, tears streaming down my face. My poor dentist wanted to know what was wrong, “Are you in pain; do you need something?” No and no. I shook my head and couldn’t speak of course and so he kept grinding away and I kept weeping happy tears remembering all the beautiful horses in this wonderful life I’ve been given.
See this article in the April 2025 Online Digital Edition:
Kim Roe grew up riding on the family ranch and competed in Western rail classes, trail horse, reining, working cow, and hunter/jumper. She trained her first horse for money at 12 years old, starting a pony for a neighbor.
Kim has been a professional dressage instructor in Washington state for over 30 years, training hundreds of horses and students through the levels. In recent years Kim has become involved in Working Equitation and is a small ‘r’ Working Equitation judge with WE United.
Kim is the editor of the Northwest Horse Source Magazine, and also a writer, photographer, and poet. She owns and manages Blue Gate Farm in Deming, Washington where she continues to be passionate about helping horses and riders in many disciplines.