I pulled these horses from a kill pen almost 5 years ago. Granted, Spartan was 3 days old and nursing.
But I know Duchess remembers.
Scarcity.
Neglect.
Abuse.
Her body once learned that survival meant eating everything now. Or maybe not eating again.
Today, in a cold rain, I tossed some alfalfa in a dry stall for them. So they could stand out of the rain and eat a higher quality forage should they choose to.
They did choose to. Briefly.
Then they walked back out in the rain and ate from their fescue round bale.
They chose fiber.
They chose cold rain.
They chose balance.
No one made them.
No one took anything away from them.
No one restricted them.
They chose it.
And they keep choosing it.
Why? Why would they choose cold rain and lower quality forage over a dry, warm stall and alfalfa?
When horses are managed well- when they feel warm enough, fed enough, dry enough, safe enough- they don’t chase extremes. They don’t hoard. They don’t binge. They don’t spiral.
They oscillate like a pendulum.
Between shelter and weather.
Between rich hay and plain old fescue rounds.
Between rest and movement.
Their bodies regulate because their nervous system is no longer begging.
That richer hay is simply an option. Not a lifeline.
Sometimes, on paper, everything checks out. But horses aren’t paper nor do they care what the paper says. They do care that there is always enough. Enough forage. Enough water. Enough access. Enough consistency. Enough provision so there doesn’t have to be anxiety.
And horses always tell the truth. They don’t lie for appearances. They won’t stay regulated to protect someone else’s narrative. If something isn’t enough it will show up. Sometimes in the body. Always in the mind.
Today I watched my kill pen horses quietly regulate themselves in the cold rain. They didn’t camp in the stall. They didn’t guard the better hay. They didn’t act like their world might run out again.
They tasted abundance. Then returned to steadiness.
That is not deprivation.
That is trust restored.
Proverbs 25:16 says “If you have found honey, eat only enough for you, lest you have your fill of it and vomit it.”
It isn’t a warning against good things. It’s a reminder that even abundance has a measure.
Ecclesiastes whispers that same truth over and over again: there is a time. There is a season. There is a proportion that keeps life whole.
Today I fed a formerly starved horse in the freezing rain and I watched her choose hay over honey. And she reminded me of something I never want to forget: when enough becomes truly enough the story changes to balance.
Whatever your season, one of abundance, one of loss, one of plain old grass hay and dirt under your nails, taste it with stewardship.
And like my favorite girl,
if you’ve just walked out of a season of not-enough and are suddenly standing in a stall full of alfalfa,
enjoy it.
In moderation.
Because the real sustenance that keeps you warm in cold rain
will always be that steady round bale of fescue.
Centered Path Equine 