I never could have imagined, though, just how deeply she’d bond with one in particular or how that bond would one day save her life.

We lived in a quiet town where the houses were spaced far apart, leaving plenty of land for gardens, pets, and, in our neighbor’s case, a horse named Jasper. He was a large, white horse with a sleek coat and deep, contemplative black eyes. Though his size could intimidate anyone unfamiliar with horses, there was a gentleness about him. He had never panicked, never bitten, never kicked. There was a steady calmness in him that naturally inspired trust.

The first time my daughter, Lila, saw Jasper, she was only two. We were outside one morning, and she noticed him grazing in the pasture behind our