Is Ben a winner or a loser?

Every once in awhile an animal enters my life who, without a doubt, was sent to teach me a valuable life lesson. I had no idea such a life guide had entered my world when I first observed a small bundle of orange and white fur playing with his fellow kittens about ten yards behind our indoor arena. All I knew was that this was the third litter of feral kittens I’d seen in less than a week. Visions of how to live trap and spay the mommas swirled through my head as I thought of how quickly feral cats multiply.

That little ball of fur grew into a beautiful orange and white tabby male who loves to “be” with us humans and our dogs, despite his mom’s best efforts to teach him to steer clear of us. Given the choice, he would rather sit near us than anywhere else on the farm as long as we didn’t try to pet him. To do so would lead this wary kitty to jump and run faster than an Olympic sprinter. But he always stopped to look back once he figured he was safely out of reach.

This special kitten was born during the summer my husband Bob and I attended the Adventures In Awareness (AIA) Hat Ranch program to learn more about facilitating horse assisted experiential learning and/or psychotherapy groups. I could write a short novel about the amazing experience one can have through AIA; but that’s for another time. I’ll just say the experience changed our lives, personally and professionally.

Barbara Rector, founder of AIA, consistently reminded us to “allow, allow, allow” the process to unfold naturally; to let go of our need to control how people heal or learn. I struggled with this concept. Let’s face it, I had spent several years in an intense masters degree program learning how to “become” a family therapist. Little did I know that a little orange and white feline had been sent to help me let go.

My relationship with cats and kittens, up to a few years ago, was much like many cat lovers I’ve known. I saw a cute cat or kitten, I felt compelled to pet it or pick it up and cuddle it. Most of the cats I’d known fit somewhere on the continuum from fully feral and avoidant of all human contact to cute, cuddly and “in your face” friendly. This special cat was different. I couldn’t understand him at first. His behavior was foreign.

As I said before, he preferred being in our presence as along as we didn’t try to pet him. One beautiful fall day as I was sitting in the sun by our barn I noticed this special kitten had curled up within an arm’s reach. I tried ever so quietly to reach down to pet him. Rather than leap up and scurry away, he simply got up, moved a few feet away and laid down again. I sat quietly observing him. His purring was loud enough to hear even with the increased distance between us.

About the time I couldn’t sit still any longer (I just had to hold this cute kitten), our black lab, Lolli, came along. The kitten got up and rubbed all along Lolli’s body. I watched this unlikely pair as they played in the grass before laying down right at my feet. Again, I felt compelled to reach down and pet the kitten, quietly hoping I could pick him up to cuddle with me. But, alas, as soon as he felt my hand on his back he scampered away. This time a bit further than the last but still not as far as in the past. This woke Lolli who then insisted on some of my loving. The kitten curiously yet cautiously crawled on its belly to get closer to us, content to observe this odd interaction between human and non-human animals.

That was three and a half years ago. The day remains vividly etched in my memory. It was the day this special kitten helped me connect my new mantra “allow, allow, allow” with my soul. I named this kitten “Allow” that day because he helped me realize that I could be most effective in my relationships with others when I “allow” them to be themselves.

“Allow” continues to teach me this lesson daily. I continue to struggle with my desire to cuddle this amazingly gentle and loving cat. He now trusts me more than ever, often laying within a few paws of me as I sit in my favorite seat under the pear tree by our stallion barn. I could easily tame him into my idea of the perfect pet, teaching him to trust my need for him to be a lap kitty. But on the rare occasion when my humanness overrides my respect of his space and I reach down to pet him out of habit honed with other kitties, he slowly gets up and moves just out of my reach. He looks into my eyes and reminds me to “allow, allow, allow.” In those moments I can’t help but notice the familiar goose bumps I’ve come to connect with moments of intuitive inspiration… and I learn again that peacefully co-existing on this planet feels more right to me than giving into my human desire to control.

I’m not sure how this lesson may help you in the daily journey of life. This morning it helped me allow my daughter to be her own person, messy hair, bizarre clothes choice and moody behavior. This afternoon it provided an invisible string of events to unfold in my training session with a new stallion whom I am certain has experienced abusive training by one of my female colleagues. These events and my faithful trust in the process over the results allowed this new stallion to take another step closer to full trust in me. Tonight it helps me write freely without judgment of the product, making the writing process truly enjoyable. “It” may not have been seen by those who may have observed me today; but it was felt by each of those who were in relationship with me today. “It” was my ability to allow others to be themselves. Perhaps you can try allowing yourself and your horse to simply “be.” Try it, if you want. You may like it.

Happy horse hugs.