All was well — even the blanket was okay when I finally got it off him. I thought of the old poem about the importance of little things:

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe, the horse was lost.
For want of a horse, the rider was lost.
For want of a rider, the battle was lost.
For want of a battle, the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

With Thanksgiving on my mind, that led to me thinking about how thankful I actually am for small things, like horseshoe nails or leg straps on a blanket, Internet connections that work (mine was on and off last week), zippers, running water, and on it goes. I’m also grateful for big things like health and family, a safe place to live, a church to go, and of course, my horse.

I know that Thanksgiving isn’t about making resolutions, but it is about appreciating our blessings. As our country is going through a rough time economically, it’s easy to focus on what’s not working or even to try to lash out, like Sporty did with his blanket. But I’m going to purpose to remember that I am warm, dry, safe, and well fed, and that alone makes me richer than 80% of the world. Wishing you blessings and lots to be thankful for — and don’t forget to use those leg straps!

I asked my husband to videotape me riding my horse Calvin the other day. We wanted to see how the camera worked, and Rex wanted to have some experience running it. I had never seen myself on tape, so in a brave moment I thought it would be fun to experiment.

Rex did great. I think he could be a cameraman in his next job life. The camera did great. We were really pleased at the quality of the images and the sensitivity of the mic, even recording Rex’s under-the-breath comments as he tried to remember which way to push the zoom button.

But seeing myself on tape wasn’t such a great experience — at first. I’m familiar with the see-the-negative-first pattern. I take a lot of photos of people and their horses. When I give someone what I think is a nice photo, he or she often groans. I’ve had to learn to not take that personally. I’ll have gone to a lot of effort to get the photo — spent time selecting it, have it printed, etc. The person means to be appreciative, but the “Thank you” is far overshadowed by comments about how their hair doesn’t look right or they don’t look slim enough. I’ve learned that unless it’s a glamour shot (not my specialty), seeing the negative first is a common response.

When my reaction followed that same pattern, I was surprised. I ran the same rabbit as everyone else does — noticing what I didn’t like. I’ve consulted with trainers long enough that I know anyone can see the negative, but it takes a good teacher to find the positive and know how to build on it. So when I got past the shock and awe, I started to see some things I liked.

My horse is very expressive. I’m used to his crabby look, often when other people ride him for the first time. He’s not really crabby, just concentrating or worrying, but it doesn’t look pleasant. By contrast, Calvin looked happy the whole video. Ears up, strides forward, easy change of directions when we did a serpentine, smooth transitions. That was super encouraging because I know him so well. The video tells me I’m not ready for prime time, and though I can see what I’d like to improve, some aspects of my riding were better than I anticipated. Seeing the whole picture gives me the encouragement I need to work on improving.

I thought of how easy it is to assume that God is like us, seeing the negative first. But that’s not what we see in the Bible history. I think He sees the whole picture at the same time, and encourages us to go on, to celebrate what is good and improve where improvement is needed.

I’m mentally videotaping other aspects of my life in hopes of catching myself doing something good so I can build on that and do better. What if you did that, too? What kind of lift would you get if you found yourself doing something well? It’s worth a try. You can always erase the tape.

This morning, my husband and I were having coffee and a late breakfast when we heard a siren. We listened and were surprised to find it stop across from our house. When we looked out the window, we could see the fire-department pickup truck zooming up our neighbor’s driveway.

We hustled across the street, praying that the wooden barn wasn’t on fire, with its full load of hay in the loft. Moments later, an ambulance arrived.

When we got to the barn, we saw an older gentleman lying on the floor being attended by paramedics from the fire department. Pam, the trainer and barn owner, said that the man had been bridling his horse when something scared her. She knocked him over, pulled free, and sort-of stepped on him as she exited the barn. They had been preparing to go on a trail ride lesson.

The paramedics were suggesting to him that going to the hospital was a good idea. He wasn’t having any part of it. He said he was okay, and a trip to the hospital would cost money.

Pam — who is also a nurse — went to talk with him. She explained that he had cut his head and probably needed stitches. And given his other health problems, he should get checked out. He wasn’t buying it. Finally, she told him in no uncertain terms that he was headed to the hospital. He gave in.

As the ambulance drove off, Pam’s husband commented that she was pretty adamant with her advice. Pam just smiled and said, “We have history. I can talk with him like he’s my brother.”

As it turned out, he only needed stitches, but I still give Pam credit for encouraging him to go. Not every accident requires a trip to the emergency room, but of course, head injuries should be taken seriously.

The point I want to make isn’t about going to the hospital or not. It’s that Pam had a good enough relationship with her client to be able to talk turkey with him when required. Some might think that trainers should maintain a “professional” distance. But while they don’t have to be bosom buddies, it’s important to develop a relationship of trust. That comes from truly caring about the client. It’s not something you can fake.

We know it’s not always about the horse or training. Most often, it’s about the people and the relationships we build with them. So kudos to Pam and the trainers like her who have taken the effort to “have history” with their clients.