I’ve discovered that even in the midst of manure, there is often a freshness. It was in the middle of cleaning the barn one day, manure rake in hand, that I realized how intensely therapeutic it all was (is) for me. And I knew that it wasn’t the first time I had come to that realization. In the brightness of the sun shining, with the birds flying in and out of their nest in the barn rafters, and Kody’s soft muzzle against the back of my arm (my “pocket pony” always wanting attention!), I knew I was cleaning out more than barn manure.