Register for our Summer Farm & Movement Program HERE!

Cowboy’s Story: Finding Home After Years of Uncertainty

Feb 9
Author: Dana Fouche
Read time:

2 min

Images 18

Imagine spending 16 years being moved from place to place, never knowing if you truly belong. No say in where you go, who cares for you, or what your future holds. That has been Cowboy’s reality—until now.

Cowboy, our new horse, has spent most of his life being passed from home to home, adapting to new people, new expectations, and new routines. As I watch him settle into his new surroundings, I see it in his eyes—his nervous system is still waiting for the next shift, the next goodbye. He takes time to warm up, to observe, to see if his preferences will be heard.

And I understand that feeling deeply.

As a foster child, I didn’t have much say in where I went either. But at least I had the ability to speak, to use words to express my fears, my wants, my confusion. Horses don’t get that. Instead, they carry their experiences in their bodies, just like we do.

The Body Remembers

In The Body Keeps the Score, Dr. Bessel van der Kolk explains how past experiences shape our nervous systems. When we lack safety and stability, our bodies can remain in a heightened state of fight, flight, or freeze. Over time, this can lead to chronic stress, emotional exhaustion, and a constant readiness to protect ourselves from the unknown.

Polyvagal theory takes this a step further, showing how our nervous system adapts to survive. For Cowboy, years of uncertainty have wired him to be cautious, to withhold trust until safety is proven. For people, the experience is much the same. If we’ve been let down or uprooted over and over, our bodies learn to brace for impact, making true connection difficult.

Healing Through Presence

Cowboy has only been here a few days, and we have lots of ground to cover. But every time we interact, something powerful happens. We are both learning to trust—him in me, and me in the process.

Every time I interact with a horse (or a person), I’m doing the same thing he is—trying to determine if the situation is safe, trying to figure out what is expected of me to be accepted. And watching him slowly take it all in reminds me just how much environment, patience, and presence matter.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, like you have to be ready to move or protect yourself at any moment, you’re not alone. Healing starts with safety, consistency, and trust—whether you have two legs or four.

Cowboy, you’re home now. And I’ll be here, showing up for you (and for me), every day.

Call