What 99 days with my horse journal showed me — carried through two bouts of colic. On mindfulness, documenting, and true companions
On 28 July I held my Feentier’s Horse Journal in my hands as a hardcover for the very first time. Wow, how beautifully made is this, I thought — I’m a lover of fine, solid books that you like to pick up and hold. In my own copy, before I filled in the first day, I wrote a single sentence:
May it help horses and their humans to meet one another in calm, in mindfulness, and with open eyes and hearts.
Today is the 100th day. Yesterday I completed the 99th. I’m only telling of it now, with a few weeks of calm and distance — carefully, and in the hope that it can be of some help to you.
Because into these 99 days fell a time that asked everything of us. In early October Parsival had a colic. A few days later, a second one. Anyone with horses knows what that means.
I deliberately kept that time to myself. In my world, carrying a situation like that loudly out into the world would have done the path into recovery no good — and using it as advertising would never have been an option for me anyway. I went into the quiet: to myself, to my horse, and to a very small, chosen circle. And they, precisely, were an immense gift to us.
That is the first thing I want to pass on: how much it is worth to ask for help — and to accept it. There are stable companions who took our wellbeing to heart, and to whom I am deeply grateful. One now prepares my horse’s warm breakfast mash every morning. Two others took over the morning and midday feeding at weekends so I could go home for a little while — and always kept a watchful, caring eye on Parsival, making sure he was well. This closest circle carried us simply by being there. To those who fed and still feed, and to the people who were simply present: thank you.
In those days I was able to work on every level. As an energetic practitioner I fetched my colour-light lamp, used acupressure points, alarm and Ting points, harmonised the energetic layers and made sure there was extra warmth — all of this alongside what one does on the physical side. Thankfully, both bouts of colic moved into recovery.
And through all of it, the horse journal was my anchor. I documented everything: every dose, every smallest amount, every dropping, every change, hour by hour. Those notes gave me two things — certainty in the midst of worry, and, afterwards, the clarity to look back and see exactly what had helped and when.
That is the second thing I want to give you, and it is the real reason I made this book: documenting helps. When you write regularly, you come into the practice of noting things down without immediately judging them. You panic less. You learn to stay with yourself. That is exactly what I was able to do in those nights — with my breathing techniques, in calm, in presence. And in that way, I believe, I was able to be of help to my horse too.
What stays with me forever are our nights. We walked around the fields at 10:30 pm, at 11:30 pm, at 1:30 and at 3:30 — alone, just the two of us. And there was a held, carried feeling to it: we felt safe, welcomed, held and protected, out there in the fields. Unafraid, turned trustingly toward the darkness, trusting in the best for us both.
When I look back today on these 99 days, what moves me most is how fragile everything can be — and how precious our shared time is. How connected we are in trust. And that we are not alone. Help and support are very near; I may learn to ask for them, and they are given gladly.
Beneath my afterword I wrote to myself how grateful I am that I created this book — and gave it to myself. I am glad that it now goes out into the world and may be a gift to you too. Especially in the hard hours. In the light hours it is always easy to be there and to stand by someone. In the difficult ones, in the hard times, the true companions show themselves.
May it help you and your horse to meet one another in calm, in mindfulness, and with open eyes and hearts.
A personal note to close: there’s no big company behind this book — just a real person, me, with my horse and my dog. If you buy the Feentier’s Horse Journal, you genuinely bring someone a huge joy and support us very directly. It’s one of the ways we make our living — quite concretely, it lets me buy feed for my animals. This isn’t about making someone who’s already rich a little richer. So much time and love went into this book, and it would mean a lot to have that carried. Every one or two copies make it possible for more books to come — and for me to keep sharing my experiences. And if you feel like it: a short comment, a little sign of life, shows me that it lands. I don’t write these lines to express myself, but to be of some help to you — and feeling that resonance is the most beautiful part. Thank you for being here. 💛
👉 Feentier’s Horse Journal — Between Heartbeat and Hoofbeat is available on Amazon, including a German edition:
- English edition: https://www.amazon.de/Feentiers-Horse-Journal-Heartbeat-Hoofbeat/dp/B0HJDRC1YC/
- German edition — Feentiers Pferdetagebuch: Zwischen Herzschlag und Hufschlag: https://www.amazon.de/Feentiers-Pferdetagebuch-Zwischen-Herzschlag-Hufschlag/dp/B0HCJ2GC8V/
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