On a memorable morning walk in San Felipe, I had an unforgettable encounter. My in-laws had several house guests, and during breakfast, one of their guests was chatting incessantly. It was only 8:00 am, and I needed a break from chit-chat. I wanted a morning moment of quiet, so I stood and said I was taking a walk. Surprise, surprise, Chatty-Cathy wanted to go with me. I wasn’t in a place to say no, so she came along (it turns out I’m grateful she did).

We were only about 50 yards from the house when we first spotted it another 100+ yards down the beach, on the berm, close to the homes. A big black horse. No one else was around, not a soul – and having the beach to yourself is not uncommon on this stretch of paradise. But a big black WILD horse on the beach, seriously? My assumptions would be confirmed later. I’m no ranch hand, and I’m not generally afraid of animals either – but that assumes we (me and the animal) are both in our right element. My only exposure to horses has been behind fences, stabled, or as a rider on their back. Never in my life had I encountered a wild horse, and I wasn’t too thrilled with the encounter that morning.

The horse looked like it was moving away from us, so we walked a bit more. Then the horse decided to make a wide arc, circling down to the beach and toward us. Seriously?!? In my head, I’m picturing an ornery horse, the likelihood of getting a hoof in my face seemed real. We stopped in our tracks, and the horse stopped about 10 yards from us, feigning disinterest. I wasn’t keen on making friends with the animal, so I spun on my heels and started speed walking back to the house. My movement had an inverse consequence. The less interested I was in the horse, the more interested he was in us. He caught up to us, blocking our way, and as I tried to skirt around him, he quickly turned toward me. In no time, I had a MASSIVE horse face nuzzling my shoulder – nostrils, lips, and an eye were all up close and personal.

Accidentally (or maybe intentionally?), one of his hooves came down on my pant leg and flip-flop. I wasn’t going anywhere. Chatty-Cathy instantly turned into the horse whisperer. She started stroking his neck and told me to get it together and calm down before I spooked him. He responded well to her affection, despite my icy cold shoulder. Eventually, he lost interest in us (THANKFULLY), and he headed back the way he came. My speed walk turned into a human gallop as I high-tailed it back to the house, sweating and amazed that I hadn’t made a mess of my drawers. The in-laws got a great laugh out of my misfortune and confirmed that I had indeed met “the damn wild horse” that was terrorizing neighbors’ gardens and dogs. When I relayed the story to friends, their remarks were ridiculous, “that sounds magical” or “oooh, I would have looooved that.” Whaaat????? It wasn’t a unicorn. Lesson learned, always take a horse whisperer on San Felipe beach walks with you.