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The horse i grew up with, member of our family for 35 years, died last night. I'd been there when he'd had a bout of colic in December. Then he'd had a food change. Last night there was no cause, and i think the vet was good with my sister and parents about what to expect. My sister called part way through the three hours of watching and walking him to say he was better, but at midnight she called, hopelessly in tears, to say they had to put him down.
I've spent time on FB where my sister has posted a handful of photos of her life with him -- i was vaguely aware she did dressage with him in Florida and a horse show circuit and so on after i'd gone to college, but that wasn't my life with him. My life was the rural farmettes we had, where my folks were completely occupied with slowly building our homes and gardening. I rode through farms and down dirt roads. I don't recall ever getting in trouble for roaming, even evenings after daylight savings where darkness surprised me, or when i rode to a lake and P decided roll and take a bath.
He is part of my meditations, and image of support and being lifted up and carried. Admittedly, i think of laying down on his bare back while he grazed more than any directed ride. As i think of it this moment, i realize that had qualities of floating: directionless, under the sun, a gentle rhythmic sound of the chewing horse to mark the time.
I'll listen to my sister as i drive to work this morning. Hopefully not too many tears on my part.
I've spent time on FB where my sister has posted a handful of photos of her life with him -- i was vaguely aware she did dressage with him in Florida and a horse show circuit and so on after i'd gone to college, but that wasn't my life with him. My life was the rural farmettes we had, where my folks were completely occupied with slowly building our homes and gardening. I rode through farms and down dirt roads. I don't recall ever getting in trouble for roaming, even evenings after daylight savings where darkness surprised me, or when i rode to a lake and P decided roll and take a bath.
He is part of my meditations, and image of support and being lifted up and carried. Admittedly, i think of laying down on his bare back while he grazed more than any directed ride. As i think of it this moment, i realize that had qualities of floating: directionless, under the sun, a gentle rhythmic sound of the chewing horse to mark the time.
I'll listen to my sister as i drive to work this morning. Hopefully not too many tears on my part.
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I think my sister is planning to get Icelandic ponies for the next generation.