A few months ago, I stopped in Saratoga Springs to buy some fresh apples, and on the way home, not far from the farm, I saw a beautiful black horse standing by the pasture fence – there were lots of apple and pear and other trees visible in the pasture – so I pulled over and walked to the fence and give the horse an apple, and we became friends.

I never once thought this might be controversial, but when one is connected to social media, all you have to do to be controversial is breathe.

I was surprised that I had unknowingly outraged horse lovers in different parts of the country and was being chastised angrily and sometimes cruelly.

In the country, it is common for people to stop and give apples or treats to horses; when I finally saw the farmer who now owns the horse and told him what I was doing (a couple of weeks later), he thanked me.

When I told him people were upset, he laughed, “Yes,” he said, “those would be wealthy people from the city who can afford special diets for their horses. I sure can’t, but thanks for giving him apples. Anytime.” Might be racing people, he said. All of those horses are on special diets.

The farmer said horses with digestive trouble aren’t usually roaming pastures with fruit. Very few farmers keep horses that need special diets. Horseracing people do. If his horse needed a special diet, he said, he would sell him or give him away.

Suddenly, it made sense to me, yet another of those urban-rural differences that seems to be often tearing the country apart. I heard from a lot of farmers, and not one said there was anything wrong with what I did. Those were city people, they said.

He didn’t know anyone here who could afford special diets for their horses; that is expensive. It’s good for people to give horses an apple or two, a treat. Just don’t give them candy.

When I shared what I was learning, the messages stopped immediately, and I haven’t heard from them since. I stopped sharing photos of my visits to my new friend, but today,  I don’t need any more arguments, but I decided to mention him again. I can’t accept being silenced by these people. I can’t tell what this says about our country; people must reach conclusions.

Most Americans live far from animals other than dogs and pets, and the animal rights movement is busy taking the animals we do work and live around and taking them away. We all use to live and work with animals. Now, some people consider that abuse and animals are disappearing from our world.

Few people in America will ever see a big and beautiful working horse or elephant or pony again; that is a shame in my mind, and no kindness, either for people or the animals. So I’m going to keep on visiting my horse friend for as long as he is there.

The best chance these domesticated animals have of surviving in our world is for them to live and work near us, not to be taken away and never be seen again. That is just another way to kill them.

I am and have been friends with several different animals: my dogs, Rose, Izzy, Frieda, Simon, Zip, the pit bull down the road, some of the sheep, a French Bulldog who lives in Vermont, and Tina, the Amish dog at the Millers, to name a few.

I was talking to Moise, my Amish neighbor, the other day, and he said they had run out of dog food for Tina. His son has moved to the farm from upstate New York, and there is another dog; I’ve seen him but haven’t met him yet.

I’ve been lax about Tina; I will get some good food this afternoon and bring it over. I’ve been dropping food off for her for two years now. The summer has been crazy, I forgot. I am sure Tina is being fed, but I like giving her the good stuff.

Zip reminds me of the dogs and other animals I have loved and felt close to.

It’s a beautiful thing to make friends with animals. I pulled over today to see my horse friend because I had a bag of dried apple chips for him. Living on a farm with animals has been one of the most positive and meaningful experiences of my life. I needed to be near them, as I needed to be near nature. I think that is the natural state for people. We suffer without it; look at the news.

Someone asked me what I would do about Congress, and I said it was simple. If the congressmen and women brought their dogs to the capitol, they would settle down and work together.

My horse friend knows me, and when I pull over, he comes trotting over to the fence and says hello, snoring and shaking his head. He was hoping for an apple, I think, but once he sniffed the apple chips, he was pleased, and we stood there for five or ten minutes while I handed him the chips one or two at a time. It was sweet, standing there while he chewed and snorted happily.

It feels very good to me to befriend an animal. It is something I need, and Maria feels the same way.

It seems natural to me to be a part of being human and sharing the world with these beautiful creatures. In America, there is so much distrust, alarm, grievance, and cruelty. I’ve come to feel that every connection to an animal, every friendship, is a sacred thing, a way to do good. Sadly, I have seen, to be with animals and still know nothing about them.

Every time I stop to say hello to my horse friend, my heart and my soul lift together. That tells me something. I’ll keep visiting him.