For those of you new to it, and those who are not, this is the story of Rocky, a blind 34-year-old Appaloosa pony who has changed my life and Maria’s as well. Standing with him and Maria today, taking photos of this remarkable creature, I realized what a powerful impact he has had on our lives and of the power of animals to open us up and explode into our lives.

More than a year and a half ago, I was driving on Route 22 in Jackson, N.Y. and I scanned the roadside, as I always do when I have my camera, which I always have. I looked in my rear view mirror and braked sharply at the sight of this beautiful, shaggy-haired old pony, his swayback visible from the road, standing in front of a barn that had collapsed under the weight of heavy winter snows. It struck me as one of those metaphoric photos of rural life – the old animal, the collapsed barn, one in front of the other. It was a touching sight, potentially my kind of photograph. The light was good, the barn and horse surrounded by snow and ice.

I pulled into the farmhouse and knocked on the door. I was struck by the sight of a beautiful elderly woman, tall with piercing eyes and white hair. She looked at me curiously, not understanding what I was saying. I wondered if she was ill. I pointed to my camera and to the horse. “Oh,” she said nodding. “I should tell you that I am deaf and he is blind. He doesn’t look as good as he used to, and neither do I. We are riding it out together.” At one time, Rocky shared the pasture with other horses, but not for 15 years. He and Flo had grown old together.

At the time, Florence Walrach was 102 years old, and in the last year of her life. She wasn’t sure who would last longer – her or Rocky. From time to time, I would stop and take some photos and she would sometimes come out and talk to me. It took me a long time to approach Rocky, who seemed understandably skittish around strangers. He would jump and start if approached or touched too quickly.

I could see that he was totally blind and wary of venturing off of his trodden paths. It was six months before I climbed the fence, went into the pasture, began talking to him. Over time, I learned how to let  him locate my voice. Maria began coming with me, and she worked her magic on Rocky. He seemed to trust her instantly and we began brushing him, bringing him apples, horse cookies, talking to him. He seemed to like it. A few weeks ago, we had Rocky’s hooves trimmed by farrier and friend Ken Norman. Maria has brushed all of the snags out of his coat, and he looks pretty spiffy. And pounds lighter.

Last year, Florence fell down some stairs. She made it clear that she would not abide life in a wheelchair, and died shortly after, at the age of 103. Maria and I continued visiting Rocky, both of us learning how to talk to him, connect with him, understand him. It was one of the most powerful animal experiences of my life, and I have had a few. One afternoon Maria and I looked into the windows and saw Florence’s beautiful things – on the sills, in the house. We both had the same thought. We want to live her. We bought Rocky’s farm a few months ago, and will close on it in July. Rocky comes with the house.

I have no doubt now that Rocky drew us to this place, to our new home. Florence’s powerful spirit as well. As Simon – and other animals as well – have done before, Rocky opened us up in different ways. We have learned how to communicate with him and connect with him. He has changed our lives. We have come a long way with him. When he hears my car, he breaks into a trot and heads for the rear of the barn, where he is fed and given treats. When he hears Maria’s voice he whinnies and rushes to the barn.

Soon, Rocky’s life will change, for I have changed his life as he has changed mine. Rocky he will have a new space to find shelter, companions to herd and graze with, and the tender care of my wife, who loves him dearly. I thought it important to tell the story of Rocky and in his honor, I am putting up some photos on Facebook.