The Year of the Horse

Hello, friends. Milo here. Barn cat. Professional nap supervisor. Full-time observer of humans and horses.

I’ve been hearing a lot of talk lately about the Year of the Horse. Personally, around here, every year is the Year of the Horse—though I did think 2026: the Year of Meow Mix had a better ring to it.

Still, when I heard what the Year of the Horse is supposed to represent—energy, strength, resilience, courage, and a warm heart—I thought, yes, that sounds about right.

From one of my favorite spots in the tack room, usually somewhere near the snack cabinet, I get a front-row seat to all of it.

I watch powerful horses move with incredible patience. They’re strong, but gentle. Independent, but deeply connected to the people who work with them. Brave enough to try new things, and steady enough to help nervous humans feel safe.

And then there are the people.

I see riders, volunteers, and staff arrive carrying all kinds of days with them—and leave a little calmer, a little steadier. Around here, the barn has a way of helping everyone slow down, breathe, and find their center again.

If the Year of the Horse is about strength, warmth, and quiet resilience, then HorsePOWER has been living it for a long time.

Because here, horses aren’t just animals. They’re teachers. And sometimes, they’re exactly what you need to feel grounded again.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a patch of sunlight in the barn doorway that needs my full attention.

About Milo

I’m Milo – HORSEPOWER’s tuxedo-clad barn cat, chief snack negotiator, gift from the universe, and part-time philosopher. I keep an eye on the horses, the humans, and the hay cart. When I’m not supervising classes, I’m busy explaining barn life from a feline point of view.

The purr-pose of my blog? To help my favorite humans – you, the volunteers – understand why we do things the way we do, how our horses think, and what keeps everyone safe, happy, and learning together. Around here, every hoofbeat tells a story – and I’ve got lots to share.

That’s my purr-spective. Now, if you’ll excuse me, duty calls. There’s always another story hiding in the hay.