Can Agression mean Hope?
Added 2023-01-23 10:37:51 +0000 UTCAmazing spirit enchanted into cute pony. When I was a little girl, probably like many little girls, I was dreaming about my very own horse. I used to like watching horse books and imagine how my dreamy pony will look like. Chestnut with long white socks? Black? Grey? Palomino? Maybe one of them. But not bay! Not very tall, rather heavy type, with hairy legs and long mane, so I could take care of it properly, with honour even towards this living part of horse's body.
Well, life doesn't give us always what we wish for, does it? Sometimes it gives us much more...
I was lucky enough to meet the small, frightened orphan in one of the worst moments of my life. I was more lucky to gain her trust at some point and create unbreakable, almost magical, bond. She helped me to fight with my demons born in my very childhood. She taught me patience and calmness. She first showed me what love means. She lived in some different pension stables before I took her under my protection fully to give her natural, but safe in this human world, life. Big areas, good quality food, possibility to choose about herself during different weather (observing her growth, her discovering natural behaviour has shown me much more than any horse book I'd read so far).
During pension life she's been through a lot. She was chased away by other horses. She was hurt because of human incompetence and conditions inadequate for the safety of horses. I could write here stories about many difficult or bad situation. For example when after school lessons I met her with cut ear and assisted vet during sewing it. Story about giving intramuscular injections with adrenaline after she was injured on the dangerous, for every living being, fence. As an intramuscular injection for horse, it seems easy, but due to the composition, it was deadly dangerous if you accidentally hit a vein...
About many really bad things. But what's more important: she survived. She was able to heal. Physically and mentally. She's helped to raise other horses, dogs, wolfdogs, sheep, goat, cats. She'd taught children and some adults basics of horsemanship as well as horse riding. She'd showed them gentleness and fragility. She'd showed them different side of horse, they used to know.
This year she's turning 20 years old. She's quite small bay horse. With normal, natural hair. In "wild style". And I would never exchange her for any other dreamy pony that little girl can wish for.
Why I called her Agresja, which in Polish means "Aggression"? Because she's a monster or what? Honestly, I was thinking about other name in the very beginning. I wanted to name her Nadzieja (Hope in Polish). People say that there's kind of "magic of names". I think they're right about it. My spell with calling her Agresja have done its job well. Most people haven't even wanted to get close to her, because of "such name". Thanks to that she's had at least a bit more peace and space around her when I couldn't be close during time when she wasn't strong enough.
These are everyday photos taken with various cameras (digital and analogue) and mobile phones set chronologically except the last artistic five ones.
Photographers:
no. 74: Magdalena Russocka
no. 75 and 78: Anna Sychowicz
no. 76: Klaudia Lorenc
no. 77: Edyta Trojańska-Koch
