Stop Touching My Ears!

My friend, Chip, has trouble with his ears. Not that there is anything wrong with them, they're very fine ears, but he has trouble. Especially when people touch his ears. And unfortunately for Chip, people touch his ears a lot. It's hard to avoid touching Chip's ears when you're trying to put a halter on him, or a bridle. And it's also hard to avoid the fact that so many people petting horses like to scratch their ears. Because most of the time horses do enjoy a gentle ear rub. But not Chip. He won't have any of it. 

So naturally, whenever I'm with Chip I rub his ears as much as possible. When I'm haltering him to lead him out of the stall I have to move quickly so he won't get away, but I'll wrap the halter around his head as carelessly as I can so it rubs his ears on the way up and around. It's a bit of a dangerous horse hug, but it's worth it if I can touch his ears. After that I'll walk him over to the tack room and randomly reach up to scratch near his ears. He'll twitch, move away, and glare at me, but once again, I've won. Finally I'll approach him with the bridle. This is the culminating event of the day, and also the one requiring the most effort. To bridle a horse you must not only touch their ears but also bend them and force them under the bridle strap. This goes far beyond merely scratching near the base of the ear and the contortions Chip puts himself through to avoid my touch are truly hilarious. And I draw out the process as long as possible, all the while laughing at Chip's twisted head, laid back ears, and glaring eyes. He will dance backward until he reaches the end of his rope, then he'll lay his head sideways so that I have to reach all the way around his neck to access his ears. What he doesn't realize is that this makes it so I can't pull the bridle with as much finesse, which means he's really just adding to his discomfort. I laugh at that too. 

You think me cruel. What sort of kindhearted, animal loving girl purposefully heaps insult on injury and does something she knows her horse doesn't like? I know it seems a little, well, more than a little odd. You have to understand that the first time I met Chip he actually terrified me because he went a little crazy when anyone came near his head. The remedy? To touch his ears frequently and gently, calmly coaxing him into realizing that his worst fear is really a good experience. I met Chip over a year ago and since that time he has significantly improved. He has bad days and good days, but I have almost reached the point where I can totally handle his left ear without him jerking away in disgust. 

He had a harder day last week which meant I spent more time than usual holding my hand to his head, patiently waiting for him to calm down. As I stood there talking gently and waiting quietly I started wondering what he was thinking. At all other times Chip and I are tremendous friends. On the trail we make a terrific team and there is a level of trust and understanding between us. But when I'm touching his ears I can only imagine that he's thinking something like, "What the heck! Stop touching my ears! I thought you were my friend. You know I don't like this, so why, why, why are you touching my ears!??"

If only I could tell him that most other horses actually enjoy the occasional ear scratch. If only he knew that he’s really lucky because he gets so much attention. If there were some way to get through to him that I'm not going to hurt his ears. But there are no words he'll understand and far fewer words that he'll actually believe. The only thing I can do is continue as I've begun - each day I torture my horse in the kindest way possible with the hope and the faith that someday, perhaps years from now, he'll realize what a kindness it truly was. 

I started thinking about how similar my relationship with God is to my relationship with Chip, only I'm the horse and God is the one standing beside me touching my ears. I saw an example of this recently as life piled insult on injury on top of me in the form of rejection. I put a lot of effort into expanding my comfort zone and reaching out to form a new group of friends. No after no left me feeling worn down and hollow inside. After each rejection I would talk myself into reaching out to someone else only to receive another negative answer. But Friday afternoon I was pretty sure my party on Saturday would be an unattended failure. It was at that moment that I looked up from my desk at work to find that some rearrangements I'd made the day before had been dramatically altered and even more poignant was the fact that a sign I'd posted to draw attention had been removed. By whom? I didn't know. I could only guess and wonder why they had taken a disliking to my work. I felt utterly rejected.

Not for the first time I wondered why everything seems to hit me at once. Why did all this rejection occur in a concentrated period of time? Why couldn’t the work rejection have occurred a couple weeks after the friend rejection? The rebuttal was getting more than a little old. It felt like God, or the universe, or some strange twist of fate was laughing at me as time and again I was faced with some form of rejection to work through. 

... I've written this over the course of a few days and as I reached the end of today, I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Today "started out bad and then got worse." Today was so terrible that I don't even want to remember it and in the middle of the mental drama and cognitive exhaustion the only thing I could think to be grateful for was that I'd worn my riding boots to work. Today. Oh, today! A pile of problems and a workload of worry. I'm not here to complain. I'm here to think. To think about how I'm stuck in the middle of something I don't understand. I'm being put through experiences I don't immediately like. I'm learning a lot of things the hard way. I feel like a failure. I feel foolish. I feel frustrated. But if I'm right about horses and life, then there's a reason for the struggle. 

Something else is interesting. Today I felt exactly like I imagine Chip feels when I scratch his ears. I glared my way through the day, narrowed my eyes at everyone, and pulled to the end of my rope. Today I also went on a ride with Chip and at the end of the ride I reached for his ears like I always do. Without a twitch he let me scratch, bend, and twist his ears. I think that means there's hope. Life will probably keep rubbing me wrong until I realize that the thing I fear the most really isn't going to hurt me. It might take a year, or two, or more, but I think there will come a day when rejection, failure, exhaustion, and doubt don't hold me back from enjoying the ride. 

"Grace be unto you, and peace from God our Father... We give thanks for God... Remembering your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope... Knowing...beloved, your election of God." - Thessalonians 1:1-4