The Whole Horse Place

One thing I've realized lately is that people may not know we only scheduled two camps this summer on purpose.

Instead, we're here three days a week, and families can choose the days that work for them. The atmosphere is completely different.

It isn't camp.

It's being a ranch hand.

The kids don't show up expecting to be entertained. They show up expecting to work. They clean stalls, fill water buckets, groom horses, learn new skills, help each other, and slowly become part of the rhythm of the barn. Somewhere along the way, the horses become "their" horses, the wranglers become mentors, and the barn feels like a place they belong.

Looking through these pictures, I realized they probably don't seem extraordinary to anyone else. They're just snapshots of kids, horses, volunteers, and ordinary days. But to me, they're everything.

It was hot this week. Really hot. We survived with fans, popsicles, plenty of water, and a lot of laughter.

I'm especially grateful that, because of the grants we've received, so many of these young people are here on scholarships. Families don't have to choose between paying the bills and giving their child a place where they can work hard, build confidence, and simply be part of something good.

These are the days your support makes possible. Not flashy. Not exciting. Just good kids, patient senior horses, incredible wranglers, and another week spent taking care of one another.

Honestly, those are my favorite kind of weeks.

What a wonderful Sunday.

Thanks to Josh, who organized a Target volunteer work party, Target team members and their families made the trip from Olympia and Gig Harbor to spend the day with us. Before the work began, there was plenty of time for brushing horses, handing out treats, and making a few new four-legged friends.

Then everyone got to work.

With funding from The Norman Archibald Charitable Trust, we were able to install new fencing around several paddocks. The last of the gravel donated by the Bainbridge Island Rotary Club found its way into potholes throughout the paddocks, making them safer for both horses and people. By the end of the day, every horse had been brushed to a beautiful shine and was quite certain the treats should keep coming.

It truly took a community to make the day happen. Twelve of our own volunteers were here to teach, answer questions, lend a hand, and keep everything moving. Josh made sure no one went hungry, providing hamburgers, veggie burgers, and hot dogs, and Harrison Homes generously shared the sides and condiments left over from their employee recognition barbecue the day before. Everyone also received one of our volunteer T-shirts featuring our logo, designed by my niece Tiffany Elise and beautifully made by Shawna Vose. We appreciate the care and work Shawna puts into every shirt she makes for us.

There is something special about sitting on hay bales after a morning of hard work, sharing lunch, laughing together, and looking around at everything that was accomplished.

To everyone who spent your Sunday with us, thank you. Whether you carried fence panels, shoveled gravel, brushed horses, handed out treats, or simply showed up with a willing heart, you made a lasting difference. Our horses are safer, our facility is better, and our hearts are full because of your generosity.

Days like this remind me that The Whole Horse Place has never been built by one person. It has always been built by people who care enough to show up. Thank you for being part of our village.

Some Stable Paths days are carefully planned.

Some have plans... and then life takes over.

This was one of those days.

We started the morning with chores, then had to slide the roof back on the shavings tent so we could get to more shavings.

Somewhere in the middle of that, the kids started asking about what things cost here and why we do things the way we do. Before long, we weren't really working anymore. We were just sitting around the shavings tent telling stories.

No agenda. No lesson plan.
Just life happening.

Before lunch, someone said something that reminded me of a story Tommy Cash once told us. As a kid, his family had a racehorse. The horse was leading its very first race until it came around the homestretch and saw the shadows from the grandstand flagpoles stretched across the track. Thinking they were obstacles, the horse jumped every single shadow. Every horse in the race passed him while he leaped his way to the finish line.

We laughed.

Then, later in the day, we realized maybe that story had been the lesson all along.

How often is life going well until we convince ourselves there's something to worry about? We overthink. We imagine problems that aren't there. We make jumps out of shadows.

After lunch, everyone wrote down three good things from their day.

Some were simple.
"I went to see the horses."
"I had an apple thing."
"I ate a good lunch."

Shylia wrote:
• I get to spend time with G-Ma.
• The privilege of being outdoors.
• I ate today.

There wasn't anything fancy about those answers, and maybe that's exactly the point. Gratitude doesn't have to be big to be powerful.

Then we brought the horses out.
We brushed them, stretched across their backs, leaned off the sides while someone else held them, laid across them, and practiced trusting both the horse and the person standing beside us. None of those exercises work if you're holding on too tightly. At some point you have to believe your horse is going to stand quietly and your partner isn't going to let you fall.

During our wrap-up, one participant said that looking for the good helps them focus on their strengths instead of their weaknesses.
Another shared that bad things are always going to happen, but it's up to us whether we spend our energy staring at the bad or noticing the good that is still there. Another said having a positive mindset helps them trust the people around them. And another reminded us that sometimes you have to look back and process the past, but not stay there. There is always something good if we're willing to look for it.

It wasn't a dramatic day.

We cleaned stalls.
We adjusted a roof.
We shared lunch.
We told stories.
We noticed good things.
We trusted our horses.
We trusted each other.

Sometimes that's enough.
And maybe the biggest lesson from the day is one we'll all remember this week...

Don't waste your energy jumping shadows. ❤️

Buddy has had quite the couple of weeks.

If you've never seen hives on a horse before, this is what they can look like. Poor Buddy has been covered in wheals for almost two weeks now. The veterinarian has been out, he's on prescription medication, he's had several baths, and today he got the full spa treatment with a body clip.

Judging by his expression, I'd say the body clip was exactly what he needed.

He must have been so hot because he never completely shed out this year. Lexi from Dr. Crystal's office said he's the fifth horse she's clipped this summer that hadn't fully shed. Apparently it's just been one of those weird summers.

Before anyone asks, no, he doesn't have Cushings or a metabolic issue. We tested him earlier this year, and everything came back normal. Sometimes horses just don't cooperate with the weather.

Buddy got the kind of body clip all the fancy show horses get, and Lexi did a beautiful job. Unfortunately, instead of showing off sleek muscles, Buddy is currently showing off his collection of hives.

The clip is show-ring worthy. The hives...not so much.

The good news is he's feeling great and seems much more comfortable now.

I even asked Dr. Crystal for a doctor's note...just in case the judge doesn't appreciate Buddy's unique beauty at pre-fair this weekend.

Stable Paths wasn't really about horses today. At least not entirely.

We had two horses together that don't particularly enjoy each other's company. Sometimes that's just life. You don't always get to choose who you're standing next to.

The horses didn't become best friends. They didn't suddenly decide they liked each other. But with clear boundaries, consistency, and fair leadership, they learned they could exist together safely and respectfully.

So we asked the youth...
What if you're the horse?

What do you do when you find yourself in a situation you don't know how to get out of?

One participant said they tend to shut down and become completely non-compliant. Another said, "Find common ground."

Then we asked about school. What if you're assigned to work with someone you don't like?

The answers were thoughtful.
"Try to look at it from their point of view."
"It doesn't mean you have to agree with them."
"Treat them respectfully anyway."
"Mental compromise."

Then the conversation turned to something bigger. We talked about politics and how they see adults ending friendships and damaging relationships because people disagree.

I told them about something I try to remember myself. When I'm stuck behind a slow driver, it's easy to assume they're the problem. But maybe they're just out enjoying a beautiful day with their family. Looking at the situation from their perspective doesn't mean I have to agree with them or drive like they do. It just reminds me there may be more to the story than I can see.

Sometimes changing our perspective changes everything.

The horses reminded us of something important today.
Leadership isn't force.
Boundaries aren't punishment.
Respect doesn't require agreement.
And understanding someone else's point of view doesn't mean giving up your own.

Maybe the goal isn't getting everyone to think the same.

Maybe the goal is learning how to share the pasture.

Yesterday's Stable Paths was all about observation.

Before anyone ever touched a horse, we simply watched.

The morning actually started with caring for Saki after we found a small cut on her leg. Then we turned Saki, Joanie, and Chico out together and spent time observing the herd. Their ears, tails, movement, who moved whose feet, who yielded, who stayed close, who watched from a distance. Horses are constantly communicating. We just have to slow down enough to notice.

Saki quickly took on the role of herd leader. She spent much of her time keeping Joanie away from Chico and making sure everyone stayed where she thought they should.

Then I stepped into the herd.

I went out there to keep Chico from eating tree branches, and almost immediately the entire dynamic shifted. Saki no longer had to manage everything. She relaxed. She and Joanie even began grooming each other, something she hadn't been able to do while she was busy watching over everyone else.

The moment I stepped back out, Saki returned to work.

Later Josh stepped in.

The herd changed again, but in a completely different way. Josh was still the leader, but his role felt different. Instead of managing the herd, he became the safe place within it. Every horse wanted to be closest to Josh. They jockeyed for his attention, waited for scratches, and occasionally reminded each other whose turn it was. It wasn't about who was in charge; everyone already knew that. It was about relationship. Same horses. Different person. Completely different dynamics.

That led to one of our biggest discussions.

Most people eventually learn to notice horse body language. We recognize pinned ears, relaxed eyes, a swishing tail, horses grooming one another, or the quiet signals that tell us how they're feeling.

People communicate the same way.

One young participant never said she was afraid, but she didn't have to. Her posture, her hesitation, and the way she stood told the story long before any words did. By paying attention instead of pushing, she found her confidence at her own pace.

After lunch, it was time to put those observations into practice.

Before anyone got a horse out, we asked each participant to quietly walk from stall to stall, spending a moment with each horse without talking or interacting. Their only job was to notice which horse they felt drawn to. Once everyone had made a choice, we talked about why. They described their horses as quiet, curious, cautious, playful, gentle, or independent. Then we talked about themselves. It was remarkable how often the qualities they saw in their horse were the very qualities they recognized in themselves. Maybe we aren't just choosing a horse. Maybe we're recognizing something familiar.

From there, we moved into ground manners and our bridge obstacle before pairing participants together and removing the lead ropes. Without a rope to rely on, they had to move the horses with intention, energy, trust, and an understanding of each horse's personality. It wasn't about forcing a horse to do something. It was about becoming someone the horse wanted to follow.

One family joined us for the first time yesterday. They stayed close together and weren't ready to share much during reflection, and that was okay. Not every lesson has to be spoken out loud. Sometimes you can see growth simply by watching someone become a little more comfortable than they were an hour before.

After everyone had gone home, Allie and I were talking about the day. She reminded me that all of these little things we now notice in horses are things we never saw until someone taught us to pay attention. We learned to see the ear flicks, the subtle shifts in posture, the grooming, the quiet warnings, and all the little conversations horses have without saying a word.

She also reminded me of another conversation from Stable Paths that stayed with her.

"What do *I* want?"

It came up during one of our discussions, and later she told me she hadn't stopped thinking about it. Such a simple question, yet one that can be surprisingly difficult to answer.

It seems like so many of us spend our lives making sure everyone else is okay, solving everyone else's problems, and helping everyone else get where they need to be that we forget to stop and ask ourselves what we want.

Maybe that's what observation really is.

Not just noticing the horses.

Not just noticing the people around us.

But slowing down long enough to notice ourselves.

It's been one of those simple, good weeks at the barn.

The week started with a family coming out to help with chores, and from there it was just... barn life. Feeding horses, cleaning stalls, grooming, horse care, groundwork, obstacle courses, learning new skills, and a whole lot of laughs along the way.

With the hot weather, the stalls (and the fans!) turned into the best place to cool off, so we even did crafts in there between horse time.

There were lots of horse kisses, lots of proud moments, and lots of different people doing things they maybe didn't think they could do a few weeks ago. That's my favorite part.

Kristi stopped by to visit Buddy, and like always, she brought so much joy with her. We always love seeing Buddy's mom.

And, of course, one of the barn cats has decided they now drive the tractor... or at least supervise anyone who does. 😹

Nothing fancy this week. Just horses, people, chores, learning, and a lot of reasons to be thankful. Looking forward to another day tomorrow.

We have some exciting news to share!

The Whole Horse Place has been awarded a 2026 Community Grant from the Bainbridge Community Foundation.

We are incredibly grateful to the Bainbridge Community Foundation, its donors, volunteers, and Board of Trustees for continuing to support Bainbridge Island residents through programs like ours.

This funding helps make it possible for Bainbridge youth, families, veterans, and adults to spend time with our horses, participate in Ranch Hands and Stable Paths, and enjoy everything these old horses have to offer.

If you're on Bainbridge Island and have been thinking about coming out to meet the horses, we'd love to hear from you. Whether you're interested in learning horsemanship, joining a program, volunteering, or just spending some quality horse time, there is a place for you here.

Thank you, Bainbridge Community Foundation, for believing in our horses, our programs, and the people we serve. We are honored by your support and look forward to welcoming even more Bainbridge residents to the barn this year. 🐴❤️

Today's Ranch Hands lesson focused on one obstacle: the bridge.

But before anyone got there, there was work to do. Stalls were cleaned, hay was brought up, Saki got her hoof medicine, Lefty got his eye medication, and the horses were brought in, brushed, and saddled.

Once the horses were ready, we started with groundwork. The goal wasn't simply to get the horse across the bridge. The goal was to be able to send the horse across the bridge without leading them. That requires communication, confidence, and trust from both horse and human.

After everyone was successful on the ground, they climbed aboard and rode the bridge. It was fun to watch the kids build on what they had already taught their horses and see those lessons carry over into riding.

One of the things I love about horses is that they don't care how old you are. They care whether you can communicate clearly, be consistent, and be a good partner.

Today, our Ranch Hands got a little better at all three. 🐴❤️