I ought to say I love and respect Pamela Rickenbach, she is an extraordinary human being and strong woman. I do not know how she summoned the strength and energy and love to be such a generous and loving host for so many people from so many different places in the days after her beloved Paul died.

I am exhausted from our few days at Blue Star, drained and spent. But I can’t turn it off tonight without writing about Pamela, a mystic and a prophet, I think, and a cherished friend with a powerful vision that sustains her and so many others. Blue Star is a very big idea, is speaks to the health of the world, of human beings, and of our deep connection to the animals.

I do not know what happened to Paul in that pasture last week, but I do know how much he loved Pamela and cherished and respected her vision.

Blue Star is, for me, the true home of the idea of animal love, animal welfare and animal rights. It is a rescue  home for people as much as it is a rescue home for horses. The horse have the power to comfort and heal, and so does Blue Star. It is, in fact, possible to love animals and to love people, and to treat both with dignity and respect.

Pamela has made that happen, turning Blue Star into a magnet for animals and caring people. There, you will find young and old, construction workers and sheriff’s deputies, emotionally challenged children and vigorous and idealistic students, retired academics, artists, architects, poets, painters and students.

I call Blue Star the Charlotte’s Web of animal love, once you visit you are likely to be bound there for life because to feels wonderful to love rather than hate, to love animals in a knowing, bounded and healthy way, to learn how to love and heal Mother Earth, to embrace the most beautiful elements of other cultures, especially the Native-American culture. No people have ever been closer to animals that the Indians, and they can teach us many things about animals that we urgently need to know, if they are to be saved. It is the most wonderful kind of crazy glue, every time I got there I meet a half-dozen people who dropped by years ago and have never left.

I think Maria and I are becoming one (two) of those people.

Human beings and horses are welcomed at Blue Star in an open and loving way, it seems almost shocking in our fearful, angry and polarized world. Some are hurting, others simply drawn to the horses, they all work side by side in this enduring community and beacon to the world. Blue Star is the way for us, for people, for animals, for Mother Earth.

I do not know how Pamela survived the shock she got this week, and there was much agony and tears, but she never stopped loving, caring for the horses, worrying about the visitor’s and guests, making them feel welcome in  her home, planning the most beautiful rituals and the most dignified and feeling remembrances.

I will never forget this weekend, or the almost haunting image of Pamela’s dignity, faith, love and courage. She told me she can’t mourn Paul’s death for too long, the horses need her, she has to get back to work. I started to warn her that grief takes it’s own path, has it’s own way and urge her to respect it, but I decided not to.

Pamela needs no pity or sympathy for me, she knows her own mind and needs no advice from me. If and when my own time comes to grieve, I will think of her and hope to do as well. Tomorrow, she will be back at work, fighting for the horses, fighting for our shared humanity.