As I walked through the stable, I felt his presence: Here one moment, gone the next. Perhaps he was checking me out. I sensed he was there because of the horses. I turned to the group of five ladies who had invited me to their barn, located just outside of Burlington, Ontario. I’d come to read their horses, but found an unexpected ethereal resident on their property.
“Do you ever see shadows in the corners of the building late at night?”
Several of the ladies looked at each other with expressions that seemed to suggest the last thing they wanted to hear was their barn was haunted.
“Actually, you’d be happy for him to be here,” I said, trying to put them at ease. “He takes care of the horses. He enjoys looking after them. He feels like it’s his job.”
“Then we’ll take him!” one woman said happily.
I gave them the name Edward. “I see him with overalls, dressed like a farmer,” I said. “He’s not attached to this property – he wasn’t an original owner. But he had several horses on his farm, and he loved caring for them. That’s what attracted him to your horses.”
Eddie, a muscular jet-black steed, poked his head out of his stall to check out what was going on and I held out the back of my hand for him to sniff. And also to show him I had no treat, but was just saying hi. I rubbed his nose while Spartan, his stall buddy, looked on. “How you doing, big fella?” I said, then tuned into the energy of the 17-year old big fella. Eddie loved being in his stall – in fact, he preferred it to being outside.
“Horses are very intuitive,” I told the group. “They know someone’s looking after them. In addition to you ladies, of course.”
The horse owners and I walked outside to the pens and I spent the next couple hours with the most beautiful, gentle horses I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. They all liked the attention and loved having their pictures taken. You can see them at (https://www.facebook.com/CarolynMolnarTorontoPsychicMedium).
I spent a few minutes with Sasha, who enjoyed jumping but was worried about her leg. Stella, a Paint liked looking into people’s eyes. “She needs to see people in order to trust them,” I said.
Next I met Lucy and Jewel, a pregnant mare that couldn’t wait to be a mom. Fire was a proud and peppy Arabian that thought she was a human. I rubbed her nose and looked into her eye, which sparkled like a piece of polished glass.
Poet told me he liked to be ridden, and wished his owner would take him out more. Poet’s owner laughed, and her mother gently chided the girl for not spending more time with her steed.
I also sensed a lingering sadness within Poet. A feeling that something was missing. I kept hearing brother… brother… I mentioned this to the ladies, then asked, “Did Poet used to share space with another horse?”
They were quiet a moment, then the leader of the group said, “Before we took over this place, Poet shared a stall and pen with Remy, an Appaloosa. Remy even looked like Poet, and he acted like they were brothers, even though they weren’t from the same mare. Remy had a twisted colon. When he was sick, Poet kept pacing by the fence. Then Remy passed away.”
As if Poet could understand us, he nodded his angular head up and down. I patted the side of his neck. “He was worried about him,” I said.
“Yes,” the owner said. “Poet couldn’t live without him.”
“Well, Remy comes back to visit. He hasn’t forgotten his friend.” I centred myself and asked my guides to let Remy come through. In my inner ear, I heard the clip-clop of hoofbeats running free in a pasture. I smiled and said, “Remy is here now. And he’s very happy with the way you’re taking care of his brother.”
Indeed, all the horses here were happy. I’ve never seen such a well-loved group of animals. These ladies not only spoiled their mounts, they also showed great affection for the cats on the property: Cara, Snoopy and Chukka, a butterscotch tabby that believed he owned the place. In other words, a typical cat.
As we walked back to the barn, the owner asked, “So is Remy a ghost, too?”
“Remy is a spirit; when he died, he transitioned into the light. Animals have souls, too,” I explained, and several of the woman nodded. “But after farmer Edward died, his soul decided to stay on the Earth plane. Who knows why? Maybe he just missed farming, and being in your barn with your horses gives him good memories.”
I waved goodbye to my hosts and Eddie, whose head still poked out of his stall. As I walked to my car, I heard the ladies talking excitedly about their horses. I was happy for my new four-legged clients, because I knew they were being well taken care of – by people who loved them on this side of life. And also from the other.
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