Tribute to a Horse.

There comes but once in our life when we cross paths with such an animal. One that knows what you are thinking before you do, one that knows your inner self and trys to test every boundry. But one who knows when to back off and when to stand so you can cry into its mane.
l had one of those.

For years. And more years. At one stage there we were wondering who would be pushing up the daisys first.
We warred with each other, she threw me more times than l care to count. She would never come when called, she played ‘lets bite the rider’s foot’ and mulched other paddock pals if they come into her space. She turned her paddock into a cotton field on day two of wearing her new (expensive) specially made rug.

She would position herself in just the right spot,then wait until you were near to shove you into the electric fence. She could throw a feed bucket in such a way that it would totally shatter on ground impact. Her jumping ability was well known locally, more so with neighbouring farmers. The amount of times they rounded her up with their dairy cows and threatened to milk her goes uncounted. One farmer got more than he bargained for when she fell for his Murray Gray bull, seperating the two was a full days task.

But she knew where the line was and rarely (if ever) crossed it. She was a thinking horse, she did things for a reason even if us humans didnt understand.
Over the years, she played show horse and filled the walls with ribbons and tropheys.

She took to sidesaddle instantly and carted me many a mile in the bush,jumping logs and puddles. Tent pegging was right down her alley and campdrafting gave her a chance to munch on fresh meat (not that the meat overly liked it.)

A brief stint as a WW1 Light Horse gave us both an insight into what our troops just had to carry. She played the role as troop horse well, earning a wide blue bow at the Royal Show.
We played at One Day Events and Combined Training, she loved it, l hated it. When she won her Grade 3 and went up to Grade 2, l opted out – handing over her ride to a friend of mine. Our days at Texas remain with me forever and showed me just what this one horse was capable of in hot blood.
Novelties were a fun task, as was jumping. There wasnt a thing she couldnt do.

Our kids were little then and they wanted to take horse to a gymkhana all by themselves. l looked into horse’s eyes and asked her to be careful with the human babes. She gave her word and kept it, giving them a day (or two) to remember.

But there comes a time when old horses have to retire and thus she did. But not gracefully. You always knew she was in the paddock.

She taught the others all how to behave and just how horse manners were installed. She kept a watch over ill or sick ponies, seeing what l couldnt see. If l had trouble with a young horse, she would let me pony them off her while she taught it some manners.
And she continued to rule the roost.

She was the only horse who knew by my walk as to what l were feeling. Whilst she wasnt a cuddly girl, she would agree to the odd hug and cuddle. If l fled to my secret spot in the paddock to hide from the world and cry out my problems, she would be the one behind me breathing warm air down my neck telling me it was okay to take time out. Her motto was ‘one foot forward’ and she’d share her strength.
But, when you own a living thing, you need to understand death. That nothing goes on forever and her time was coming. We knew it was coming one morning when she stood in one place too long. She lingered for a few days until she looked into my eyes and said ‘l must go now’.
On the 31st of August, 2008, at 3.20 pm, she left this realm and took a section of my heart with her.

Rest up, old horse. May you be young again where ever you are. No other can fill your hoof prints and none shall try.