After a night of heavy drinking that culminated in an argument with his wife, Calvin Cage put a bullet in the chamber of his revolver and started to play Russian roulette. Click. Nothing. Click. Nothing. Click. Nothing. “After the third time I told my wife to call the hospital to come and get me.”
A click instead of a bang was the difference between life and death for United States Air Force Veteran Calvin Cage.
Grand Junction is the home to the largest and only Veterans’ hospital on the Western Slope. Set against the staggeringly beautiful backdrop of the Colorado Monument, the white structure is visible from miles away — a stark contrast to the desert landscape that surrounds it.
The VA Medical Center looks like a spaceship that somehow missed its mark. Nevertheless, it was here, on the fifth floor that Cage, then 34, found himself after his attempted suicide. While serving in the Air Force, Cage was part of a team that flew inside a C-130 — a bulky, blimp-like aircraft designed to transport equipment and supplies into hostile territory.
Dying didn’t scare him. He’d thought a lot about his mortality while sleeping in a tent in Iraq. Listening to mortars explode in the night air all around him, he hoped if the end came, it would be quick. “I hoped for a direct hit,” Cage recalled. But he didn’t die in Iraq; he survived. And luckily, he didn’t die at home either. He survived and found help and hope with the equine therapy program at Harmony Acres in Loma, Colorado.
Veteran and Harmony Acres volunteer Calvin Cage, who credits Harmony Acres for helping save his life, takes in the spectacular view at the stables.
It’s not easy being tough. It’s not easy being brave. And it’s certainly not easy being a Veteran, especially during the month of November when people routinely say, “Thank you for your service,” with little to no idea of what that actually means. While the military may be good at preparing soldiers for combat, there is little training for returning home to civilian life.
As Calvin Cage knows all too well.
“When you get out, you’re hypervigilant. It’s hard on your body to be in constant fight-or-flight mode. It drains you. I was isolating myself. Drinking and dwelling. I didn’t want to be out in public or do much of anything,” Cage said. Struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety, he tried volunteering at the VFW. While he enjoyed the camaraderie of the other Veterans, the easy access to the bar became a problem.
A horse named Geronimo turned the tide.
Equine therapy is a partnership between a horse and a human. Under the supervision of a trained professional, humans and horses form a connection that helps Veterans process their emotions, regain their confidence, and find new ways of coping with stress and anxiety. Although a dusty arena and a 1,000-pound horse may seem an unlikely therapeutic setting, there’s no one-size-fits-all solution for trauma; but Veterans will tell you the six-week program works, that sometimes a sympathetic fourlegged friend is exactly what they need. The nonjudgmental nature of animals makes it easy to feel understood, safe, and accepted. And studies have shown that interacting with animals triggers the feelgood hormones of serotonin and dopamine, which calm and relax.
Horses thrive on the connection with humans and are adept at mirroring their behavior. As prey animals, they, too, are hypervigilant and know what it’s like to be on the lookout for danger at all times. A horse understands what it’s like to carry a burden. They know what it’s like to be kicked by an insensitive rider or mistreated by an owner. And maybe, with their highly intuitive nature and big hearts, they even understand that forming a bond with another can be the first step to healing.
Cage connects with a favorite horse, Geronimo.
There are so many reasons to visit Harmony Acres, chief among them the 40 animals that live there. Besides horses, there are mischievous ponies, alpacas, three-legged goats, one mule, a few cats, a collection of cuddly bunnies, and Huey — the cutest sheep ever. As the soundtrack of nickers, whinnies, and the occasional bleat of a playful goat fills the air, one of the founders, Morgan Kareus, a bustling ball of positive energy, guides a group of Veterans around the facility, introducing them to the cast of characters that call Harmony home. She emphasizes they are a sanctuary, not a rescue. All animals receive lifelong care.
It only takes a minute for the sound of “aw” to fill the air as Veterans smile and reach out to stroke the necks of the animals or touch the velvety nose of a horse. The stories of the animals are as touching and heartbreaking as many of the participants’. Take Maylay, a horse rescued from a kill pen where her life was about to end. “She was completely wild and had no handling at all,” Executive Director Christy Burke recalled. “It took months to build up her confidence and trust before we could even touch her. Now, she has such a depth of soul to her, when you’re working with her, you feel like you’re at a deep level of communication, almost like she can hear your thoughts. It’s kind of a magical experience.” Maylay has now become a complete ham that loves to deliver a big toothy grin for any camera.
Volunteer and Air Force Veteran Wayne Feigal explained it like this: “During the Harmony Acres tour, you see love in action and care. You see animals who were destined for the kill pen, and maybe some vets feel that way, too. Harmony Acres is a sanctuary for people who are hurting, who are outcasts.”
Calvin Cage and Geronimo enjoy the meditative and trust-building task of grooming.
There is no Wild West, “yeehaw” rodeo style of interaction using whips and spurs with the horses. Trust is the cornerstone of any good relationship, and to build it, staff uses the Parelli method of Natural Horsemanship which forms a true partnership between horse and rider.
Participants begin with a check-in. “Let [the horse] know how you’re doing. The more aware you are, the better they do,” Kareus said. Then there’s grooming — a simple task that quickly becomes meditative. The slow strokes of the brush and the circular motion of the curry comb lulls both horse and human. Participants learn how to set an intention of what they expect from the horse and use only a gentle touch or a voice command to guide the horse to walk, back up, or come toward them. As Feigal explained, “You can go with the flow and not get anywhere with horses. But when you set an intention, things happen.”
During the Harmony Acres tour, you see love in action and care. You see animals who were destined for the kill pen, and maybe some Vets feel that way, too. Harmony Acres is a sanctuary for people who are hurting, who are outcasts.” — Wayne Feigal, volunteer and Air Force Veteran
Cage elaborated: “You’re asking and receiving; not dragging a horse around by the halter.” Breath work forms the foundation for many of the exercises. As participants sit in a circle outside the arena on plastic chairs, Kareus leads them in breathing exercises to connect with themselves — “What do you feel in your body? Is it something obvious, something subtle, is it serving you?”
Michele Mummert, a retired Army Veteran and now a counselor at the Vet Center explained it like this: “The first time I came out here I was upset, and the horse picked up on it immediately. I kept denying anything was wrong, but Morgan could tell by the way the horse was reacting to me something was wrong. She had me put my hand on the horse and breathe in rhythm with it. Before I knew it, I could feel myself calming down, and that’s when it dawned on me: It does work.”
I’ve never not seen a change in people. We’ve had guys come out here and stand around, looking at the ground, mumble out their name, and not engage at all. At the end of six weeks, they’re laughing and joking.” — Melissa Gates, volunteer and Army Veteran
Volunteer and Army Veteran Melissa Gates agreed. “I’ve never not seen a change in people. We’ve had guys come out here and stand around, looking at the ground, mumble out their name, and not engage at all. At the end of six weeks, they’re laughing and joking.”
Navy Veteran Ed Conway connects with 18-year-old Doc, a 2,000-pound Percheron. Ed says, “At first, I was intimidated by the sheer size of him, his sheer bulk. But when I touched his nose and looked into his eyes, it was like he looked into my soul.” Photo courtesy of Ed Conway.
Founded in 2014 by Morgan Kareus and Christy Burke, Harmony Acres started with a dream, determination, and the courage to knock on a stranger’s door. Driving around Fruita one day, looking for a place to house their operation, Burke spotted what looked like vacant horse property. With one brave knock on the door and a handshake, the property became their first home. Now headquartered in Loma on 24 acres, their mission has remained the same for 10 years: “To create a place where people and animals come together for the purpose of healing.” Through a combination of grants, donations, and fundraising, there is no cost to participants for the Veterans equine therapy program that is available to both men and women; other programs for adults and children are very affordable or offered on a sliding scale.
In 2023, Navy Veteran Ed Conway, 61, arrived at Harmony Acres while struggling with the physical and mental aspects of Meniere’s disease, an incurable disorder that destroys the vestibular system, which causes him to fall frequently. As if that wasn’t enough, he also suffers from headaches and ringing in his ears. He immediately connected with 18-year-old Doc, a 2,000- pound Percheron, a breed almost the size of a small school bus. Nevertheless, when Doc first came to Harmony, he was so frightened, he shivered whenever he was touched. “At first, I was intimidated by the sheer size of him, his sheer bulk,” Conway recalled. “But when I touched his nose and looked into his eyes, it was like he looked into my soul.” At 6 feet tall, Conway is a big teddy bear of a man himself whose once successful career as a petty officer in the U.S. Navy and afterward as a safety engineer on big projects like the World Trade Center in New York City had been turned upside down by his disease. “I don’t want to be disabled. I don’t want people to see me as disabled. When I’m standing next to Doc, I don’t have the fear of falling and I don’t have headaches. Equine therapy gave me back my self-respect.” His wife, Heather, agreed: “From a caregiver and wife’s viewpoint, it made a gigantic world of difference. It made him feel he could enjoy life and interact again.”
She had me put my hand on the horse and breathe in rhythm with it. Before I knew it, I could feel myself calming down, and that’s when it dawned on me: It does work.” — Michele Mummert, retired Army Veteran and Vet Center counselor
During the last and final session, a small obstacle course is set up in the arena for horse and rider to navigate. As they weave through the cones, it’s clear how far they’ve come and how lessons learned in the arena can translate into real-life situations. “When there’s a goal, there will be obstacles,” Kareus instructs participants. “You’ll have to pivot; be intentional and small steps will get you there. You have to look ahead, look where you’re going.”
Kareus and Cotton enjoy a moment of connection.
As for Cage, now 41, he volunteers weekly at Harmony as a force for good. After serving his country in the Air Force for six years, he continues his commitment to service by helping other Veterans through the equine therapy program that helped him. “Since I’ve been coming to Harmony, I haven’t had any big mental health problems. Ultimately, Harmony Acres saved my life.”
Visit www.harmonyacresec.org, if you’d like more information about Harmony Acres.
Joanne Palmer lives with her partner and rescue dog on Colorado’s Western Slope. Follow her at Laugh Lines found at joannepalmer.substack.com.