In the week that I had been on the ranch, I had grown accustomed to Rex holding my hand. At first, it scared me. I'd never known a wolf before; I didn't know this quirk in their behavior. When we were sitting on the porch, he was docile, laying nearby, snapping at the horseflies. But the moment I began walking the quarter mile to the stables, he jumped to my side, gently enclosing my hand in his enormous, soggy mouth. I counted on his companionship. There was also Sheila, a gorgeous tan and black German shepherd and Buddy, a chubby black lab. Sixteen head of horses, a couple dozen chickens that laid lovely green eggs, a surly rooster, and two cats completed my entourage.

I didn't know Sharon and Steve at all when they had called me in Colorado, asking me to care for their ranch in northern New Mexico. Sharon's description of the job included 3 tasks: Feed the animals, keep the water tank full, and check the solar voltage meter. Did she intentionally withhold the fact that the job included the care of a pregnant mare? When I arrived, I met her -- huge, coal black, sweet as a lamb and ready to foal. I'd been around horses a tiny bit, certainly nothing that would prepare me for what I was being called to do. Immediately after Steve and Sharon left, I touched base with their vet who gave me telephone coaching to prepare me for the worst. And then I prayed.

When I arrived, Mama was laying down. Shooting me a warning snarl and whinny, I knew the foal had just been born. My angel was right-on again! Rex, Sheila and Buddy knew to keep their distance. I followed their lead. The vet had instructed me to enter Mama's stable as soon as she'd let me, warning that should I fail to handle the foal immediately after birth, he would find human contact alien and would be hard to train. I was afraid. I waited awhile, then carefully walked around Mama to make sure she was all right and that the foal was well. The foal was gorgeous, just like Handsome -- a brown and white pinto, and was already attempting to get his legs under himself. He struggled for a few minutes, then rested, absolutely quiet. In a few minutes, he resumed the struggle again.

I didn't know what I was doing, so allowed my common sense to kick in. Half an hour had passed since birth, and I knew I needed to approach the tiny baby. After filling Mama's pail with fresh cool water, I laid out her favorite food -- molasses, oats and wheat germ on a bed of fresh hay. That was just the ticket to gain her confidence. While she lowered her head to munch, I sat down on the ground in the dust in the birthing area, waiting for my next instruction. The foal, now standing on wobbly fours, approached me. He slowly extended his neck, instinctively attempting to catch my scent. I allowed him to nuzzle my hair and my cheek, while tears welled in my eyes. His next move was a surprise: He lay down, full-body in the cradle of my lap as Mama, towering above us 3 feet away, turned to check my reaction. His head on my knee, his eyes grew sleepily closed.

I began with his ears and face. Then his legs and tiny hoofs. From head to tail, I caressed this sweet child as though he were my own. Mama stood over us in a protective posture, swishing her tail to ward off flies. Naming him would be another reward today. The moment the thought entered my mind, one enormous gust howled through the canyon, creating small tornadoes of circular dust and leaves. The wind approached, then engulfed us, blowing my hair and causing our child to jerk, as if falling. I continued to reassure him with my hands. He quietly, trustfully, fell back to sleep, as if embued with the spirit of the wind.

Two hours passed with the three of us in this position. Me, loving, caressing. The tiny baby sleeping, with leg jerks and twitches. Mama standing gracefully above us with one hind leg bent slightly, the sensual way that horses do.

Two months later, I visited the ranch. My heart swelled as I drove up to and unchained the gates securing the property. Then I saw him! Wind Spirit! He looked like the wind itself as he bucked and ran, tossing his sweet head from side to side. Sharon explained, "We call him Windy, for short." I got close, then wrapped my arms around his neck and planted a solid kiss in his mane before he bolted, skipped backwards, then turned to a full-tilt gallop. In moments, he was a mile away! I watched in tearful awe, with my arms hanging loosely by my side.

A smile broke across my face as I felt something wet gently engulf my hand, attempting to guide me.

(c) Glenna Heller