Finding Healing at The Family Ranch: Where Hope Has Hooves

The Family Ranch!

If you ever find yourself in Eatonville, Washington, tucked among the evergreens and mountain air, you’ll stumble upon one of the most extraordinary sanctuaries you could imagine — The Family Ranch.

 And at the heart of it all? Stephanie Kaydus — the kind of person who makes you believe in goodness again.

Stephanie isn’t just the owner; she’s the soul of this place. A gentle force of nature, a domestic abuse survivor turned healer, and an accomplished equestrian who’s spent her life around animals. Her empathy is deep, her purpose even deeper. What she’s built here is more than a ranch — it’s a refuge for people and animals alike. Horses, donkeys, goats, dogs — many of them rescued — all live here in harmony. But the magic of The Family Ranch is how they help rescue you right back.

Winston at the 2024 Be the hope walk!

The Day I Met Winston

Let’s rewind to 2024 — the Hope Walk.

 I was there with my Babble Buddies crew when we spotted a crowd gathering around a trailer and a donkey. Naturally, curiosity got the best of us. “What’s so special about this donkey?” we joked.

Then we met Winston — and instantly, we got it.

Winston isn’t your average donkey. He’s a rescue, a support animal, and possibly one of the most emotionally intelligent souls you’ll ever encounter. Within moments, you realize he feels things — your energy, your hesitation, your heart. He gives hugs, curling his head and tail around you like a weighted blanket made of love. It’s the kind of moment that stays with you long after you’ve walked away.

While chatting with Winston’s owner — Stephanie’s mom, Ms. Marie — she spoke with pride about her daughter’s strength and compassion. “Stephanie’s been around animals her whole life,” she said. “She doesn’t just train them; she understands them.”

And she was right.

Stephanie’s journey led her to create The Family Ranch not just as a home for rescued animals, but as a safe space for people navigating trauma, anxiety, depression, or the aftermath of abuse. It’s a place for healing — one hoofbeat at a time.

Fast Forward — A Different Kind of Healing

A few years later, life brought me to my own crossroads — a difficult divorce. And while I’ve done my best to shield my kids, the truth is, these moments ripple through them too. My middle daughter, who has ADHD, was struggling to process everything.

Then I remembered Winston.

And Stephanie.

And that feeling of peace at the ranch.

With only about a week’s notice, I reached out and asked if Stephanie might have time for a lesson. Her reply was as warm as I remembered: “Of course, bring them by.”

When we arrived, I’ll admit — Dad was probably the most nervous one in the bunch. Stephanie greeted us with that signature calm smile and said,

“I know you’re a little nervous, Dad. There’s a chair on the porch if you’d like to sit, or you can hang with us. Either way, you’re in good hands.”

From there, I watched something remarkable unfold.

 She immediately connected with my kids — gauging their energy, balancing excitement with reassurance, and empowering them to feel responsible for their own experience. She gave them confidence before they even touched a horse.

The Magic of Connection

Stephanie started by giving the kids a tour of the ranch. My son’s eyes lit up when she showed him the tractor. Then came the “horse scavenger hunt,” where the kids got to find the horses they’d be riding out in the open pasture.

The moment those horses saw my children, they walked right up to them — gentle, calm, curious. My youngest ran straight toward one, and instead of shying away, the horse lowered its head to meet her hand. I swear my eyes popped out like Roger Rabbit’s. (Yes, I just dated myself.)

The calmness and training these animals have — that’s not an accident.

It’s the product of love, patience, and respect.

Stephanie then guided the girls through leading the horses from the prairie to the paddock — giving them a sense of ownership while keeping a watchful, supportive eye. Each lesson built on the last: balance, communication, empathy. She taught them not just how to ride, but how to listen — to the horse, to themselves, to the silence between them.

The Whisperer of the Ranch

If Cesar Millan is the Dog Whisperer, then Stephanie Kaydus is the Horse Ranch Whisperer. Watching her work with animals and people is pure harmony — intuition meets skill, care meets confidence.

She gave each of my kids one-on-one time, gently guiding them, allowing them to steer, stop, and connect with their horses. She treated them not like “little kids,” but like young people with big hearts and real feelings. You could see the trust building with every gentle correction, every patient word, and every smile that said, you’ve got this.

By the time the lesson was over, my daughter — the same one who struggles with focus and confidence — was riding tall, smiling wider than I’d seen in months.

And then, with that same big smile lighting up her face, my middle child turned to me and said,

“Dad, I wish you could save your money and get a ranch like this. I would help with the animals — and maybe Ms. Stephanie could help us too.”

That moment hit me right in the heart. It brought me to tears. I looked at her and said,

“I’m not sure how, baby girl… but Dad will try his best to figure out a way to get you something like this.”

I could see it in her eyes — how that place spoke to her, how the love and calm of those animals reached parts of her heart that words couldn’t.

And in that moment, I realized something: as dads, we make these wild promises — the kind that probably don’t make much sense to anyone else — but we make them because, for a split second, we want our kids to feel that anything is possible.

And at The Family Ranch, it actually feels like it is.

That magic comes from Stephanie herself. She’s been around horses her entire life — it’s in her DNA. You can tell the second you watch her move through the ranch. The horses respond to her tone before she even speaks; they follow her movements with a sense of calm and trust that only years of shared understanding could create. She reads their body language like a second language, and they read her calm energy in return.

But it’s not just about training — it’s about connection. Stephanie’s also a mom, and you can see that same nurturing instinct in how she guides not only her own children but every child (and adult) who steps foot on the ranch. She’s taught her kids to be comfortable around horses — not to fear their size or power, but to understand their emotions and respect their space.

Growing up surrounded by these incredible animals has given Stephanie a gift that few people truly possess: the ability to bridge the gap between human emotion and animal instinct. It’s as if she translates love through touch, trust, and time. You can see it in every interaction — whether she’s showing a nervous child how to place their hand on a horse’s neck or quietly calming a restless mare with nothing but presence and patience.

That’s what makes The Family Ranch so special. It’s not just the land or the animals — it’s the heart behind it. Stephanie has built a place where compassion leads, where lessons come softly, and where even the most uncertain souls — human or horse — find comfort in her care.

A Place That Heals

The Family Ranch isn’t just a place where animals are saved — it’s where people are too.

Stephanie and her team are building something truly rare in today’s world: a community of empathy, healing, and hope. The air there feels different — lighter somehow. It’s as if the land itself knows what it’s doing, quietly inviting you to breathe a little deeper, to let go, and to just be.

Everywhere you look, you see evidence of care. From the soft eyes of a horse leaning into a child’s hand, to the laughter that echoes between the trees, to the breathtaking 60 acres of serene, scenic beauty that seem to whisper, you’re safe here. This place doesn’t just calm you — it reaches into the parts of your spirit that you didn’t even realize were tired.

For survivors of trauma, people going through it, kids who feel unseen, single people trying to find their footing, and parents fighting battles they never expected, The Family Ranch offers something words can barely touch: belonging. Stephanie has created an environment where healing isn’t forced — it happens naturally, through connection, compassion, and time.

And it’s not just for families or individuals — even couples looking to reconnect or reboot will find peace and perspective here. There’s something about being surrounded by nature, gentle animals, and quiet moments that helps you remember why you chose each other in the first place. The Family Ranch gives space for reflection, forgiveness, and rediscovery — all under the wide, healing sky of Eatonville.

There’s something profoundly spiritual about watching your child gain confidence in the saddle, hearing their giggles as a horse snorts beside them, or seeing them gently brush a mane while the world slows down around you. It reminds you that maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be okay.

Because The Family Ranch isn’t just about animals or therapy — it’s about rediscovering the parts of yourself that trauma, heartbreak, or the weight of life may have hidden away. This place is honestly amazing and helpful for everyone — whether you’re a parent, a friend, a couple trying to rebuild, or simply someone needing a moment of stillness and healing.

And for those looking to stay a little longer, there’s even an Airbnb on the property — a cozy way to truly experience the peace this place brings. I haven’t had the chance to experience it yet, but once I do, you can bet I’ll be writing about it too.

Whether you’ve been through loss, stress, or just need to remember what peace feels like, The Family Ranch welcomes you with open arms — and open hooves.

And if you’re lucky, Winston the “supportive ass” might just give you the best hug of your darn life.

Visit The Family Ranch

Location: Eatonville, Washington

Owner: Stephanie Kaydus

Mission: To provide a safe, healing environment for people and animals through compassion, connection, and care.

Because sometimes, the path to healing doesn’t lead you to a therapist’s couch.