Las Vegas, Nevada, is known for its neon lights, glitzy casinos, and relentless energy. You’d think I’d love it. I don’t. I go because that husband of mine has family there and our dearest friends call it “home.” Lucky for me-tucked away from the Strip’s chaos, there exists a quieter side of this desert oasis—horse ranches sprawling with serenity, where time seems to slow, and the whispers of nature are louder than the chatter of the city. It was here, on a gorgeous morning, that an unexpected connection unfolded between me and a mini donkey named Wilson.
I’m no stranger to the emotional tidal waves of life. At this age I’m at-nearly 60-I’ve felt every peak and valley with the intensity only a highly sensitive person could know. The world often seems too much for me – but here, on our friend’s ranch just outside Las Vegas, I found my solace. I left our casita on the property. I came out to the horse area to stretch, to breathe, to escape.
This particular morning, I positioned my exercise ball near the fence. Stretching backward over the ball, arms draped loosely toward the sandy ground, I let my chest open to the wide expanse of the sky above. My tight ponytail dusted the ground as my eyes were glinting in the sun. I inhaled deeply, grounding myself in the moment. Serenity! It couldn’t possibly get any better than this until: As if summoned by the quiet stillness I was exuding, Wilson appeared.
Wilson is a mini donkey with soulful brown eyes and fur the color of warm caramel and chocolate latte with heavy cream. Known for his curious nature, he is a most beloved figure on the ranch, often wandering into the moments where he senses he is needed most. And he is obviously, rarely never wrong.
As I stretched backward, eyes closed, I felt a soft, warm presence. Startled but unafraid, I tilted my head to see Wilson standing at my feet- his ears twitching in curiosity.
“Hello there,” I murmured! I felt my voice catching slightly as tears teased my eyes.
Wilson didn’t move. Instead, he lowered his head, nudging me gently as if to say, It’s okay. I’m here.
What happened next was difficult to describe but undeniable in its depth. I sat up slowly, the ball rolling away as I kind of knelt before him. We locked eyes—mine brimming with unshed tears, Wilson’s steady and understanding. In that gaze, it felt as though the layers of the world fell away.
I reached out a hand, brushing it along the soft fur of Wilson’s neck. He leaned into my touch. Wilson’s small frame radiated warmth and an almost calm I would guess is only attainable in Heaven! For minutes that felt like hours, we stayed like that, silent except for the occasional sound of an opressing jet liner flying overhead. The ranch is on the flight path of the Las Vegas airport.
To me, it was as though Wilson saw everything—the overwhelmment, the vulnerability, the quiet strength I don’t often acknowledge in myself. Wilson didn’t need words to convey his understanding. His presence was enough.
When I finally rose, my heart felt lighter, my breath easier. Wilson trotted off, his small hooves leaving delicate prints in the sand. I watched him go off. I could feel the soft smile on my face. I knew I had just experienced something profound.
Later, after that husband of mine saw the video-he asked about that moment Wilson initially walked up. I simply said, “Wilson reminded me of the power of being seen. Really seen. And I’ll never forget him.”
I can’t wait to go back to Las, Vegas now. They can keep the Strip. I want the Wilson experience again!
Some connections don’t need explanation. They just are. And in the stillness of a Las Vegas ranch, one such connection blossomed between me and a mini donkey, leaving a feel good mark on my soul.
The Blonde on the Prairie is a lover of ND. She is an author and motivational speaker, owner of “Monkey Balls” food truck and Joyologist to the elderly, the disabled and, now, also to children wherever she is needed during the school year and beyond.
