How do you say goodbye to a horse? My other equine friends that I’ve loved and lost, I’ve found out as I walked into the barn to find another horse in their stall. I didn’t ask questions because then I could hold out hope that maybe we’d meet again someday. When I found one I could not bear to lose this way, I moved heaven and earth to make sure I’d never have to. But how do you say goodbye to a horse, someone else’s horse, who’s taught you so much? How do you bring them in, let them roll, brush them, feed them carrot after carrot after carrot, put them home and look at them knowing it’ll be the last time? A horse you took from unreliable walk-trot to first fences, who took you from do-you-really-want-to-trust-me-with-your-green-horse to would-you-like-to-show-him-this-summer, who was an essential piece of your development as a rider. A horse who gave you the opportunity to continue to forge a bond with those people with whom you thought you belonged, until it all came crashing down. And there won’t be any hopeful browsing of sales ads, no asking friends of friends of friends hey do you know what became of, because that chapter of your life is gone gone gone forever and there’s no going back. How do you say goodbye to a horse?
Happy birthday, special boy. I was hoping we’d get to celebrate our birthday together but I guess that’s out the window. So sorry you had to leave your perfect home. Hope you’re giving your new pasturemates hell (but not toooooo rough) like usual. Give Mommy and Auntie Joey a kiss please. Love you, miss you.
Had a dream about this little guy last night. Usually I can tell what triggers my dreams but I couldn’t think of anything the day before. Just my brain bringing things up, I guess. It was nice to see him and he remembered me and was fat and sassy and shiny and I was trying to figure out how to not let them figure out it was me who’d bought him, and he and Pearl were best friends and we went on a bareback trail ride and were just about to pick up a gallop when I woke up. And spent the day crushed that I will never see his sweet face or hear his dopey high-pitched “feed me” whinny. Actually I think what made dredged it up and hit me the hardest is I’ll never get to see him improve. I had a tough but very productive lesson on Pearl yesterday afternoon, and I can’t help thinking of how far Pearl’s come in just a few months, and he could do that too.