The Next Phase

It's been really hot and humid here in the past few weeks. While the tack room is much cooler, it does tend to hold the dampness in the summer and with that dampness comes the inevitable fuzz of mold growing on the unused tack. My QH's bridle being one of those unused items. I have decided that my two year old will inherit the bridle, but it's going to be a few years before his head is big enough to be anywhere near fitting. Since it was too hot to be any fun for riding, I spent some time today cleaning and conditioning bits of tack, including that bridle.

I have also finally started on the little "Who Was He?" scrapbook. Oddly enough the last pages, those photos from his final morning with the poem I wrote for him, were the first I did. After that came random photos from the pile paired with memories of him that seem to fit with the pictures. For example I had a photo of us going through knee deep water and I remembered that water never bothered him. In our first year I rode him into the pond in his field one day, and even though the mud was a bit sticky and he had to heave to get his feet out, he wasn't the least bit worried about it. The time I asked him to walk through a deep puddle that was covered by floating chunks of snowy ice gave him pause as they all moved when he did, but once he'd had the chance to look and I encouraged him, he did cautiously continue through the water. This isn't meant to be a "story of our life" book, but rather a collection of anecdotes showing his character and the little things that defined him.

One page, one or two photos, one memory at a time. I'm ready for this step now. Perhaps I will be ready to put his shadowbox together soon too.

It Is Almost Time

Almost time to start putting together his scrapbook - the little one answering the question "Who was he?" I went through the hundreds of photos from our years together and pulled out many that I thought I might use. In the last week or two I've gone through those stacks again and again, trying to thin them out, to choose only those photos that show him the way he was.

I did try out the photolab's collage software about a month ago. I took a lot of the close up photos and a few "normal" pictures of him and put together an 8x10" collage. I found the software limiting in some ways, but the result is quite nice. I arranged for it to be laminated and just got it back last week (some difficulties with a new transport company caused quite a delay). It's really nice and will go up on my wall shortly.

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I almost cleaned his halter the other night too. Eight months later and I'm almost at the point of being able to put his memorials together. Time heals, and healing must not be rushed.

The Spirit That Was My Horse

It's been a month now. The hole is filling with memories of life and I find myself drawing him back by telling people what he used to do, what he was like. Some of us were talking about our horses reactions when we go out in the field - variations on walking or turning away until we get close and then turning to us as if surprised to see us there. My boy used to watch for me at night and his distinctive whinny would come out of the darkness when he saw me take my other horse back out to a different field. As if to remind me not to forget to come down and bring him up for his dinner.

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I remember more details. Things to remember for next time, for sure as I loved him I will be making the decision again for other horses. His issue caused him well hidden pain for a very long time, even before we identified the problem. His subconcious, instincts told him that a lame horse was vulnerable and I used to call him my quarter horse, three quarter chicken because he was such a chicken. I wanted him to know that this pain and the fear it caused did not define who he was. The pain and fear must be left behind. He should take his great courage and generosity for these defined the spirit that was my horse.

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I still miss him dearly, but the great gaping sense of loss has eased and I now remember him in life before death.

Who was he?

Almost no one knows who my first horse was now. I think about that, and then I think about my second horse and how I could answer the question "Who was Tommy?"

There are many answers. He was a sorrel American Quarter Horse. He was my first greenbroke horse. He was the horse with whom I entered the dressage arena for the first time - the horse that started my love of dressage. He was the horse with whom I entered the Hunter rings and learned about the hunter/jumper discipline. I wanted to try eventing with him, but his hock issue prevented that from occuring. He was the accident prone horse who came up with so many varied injuries that I became competent in recognizing and treating a wide range of issues - and knowing when to call the vet. He was the horse who kept me going out to the farm after my first horse was euthanized. He was the horse that nickered to me when I called him. He was the horse who was guinea pig for my various trials in keeping an active competition horse on pasture board. He was the horse who taught me about the importance of saddle fit as he showed white hairs from pressure spots very quickly. He was the horse that showed me what true courage was all about. He was the horse who looked after my friends when they rode him. He was my goto horse for teaching people about lateral work. He was lazy enough to not argue with a rider who was determined, but also lazy enough to give the minimum asked for. He was a worrier. He was generous. He was a great heart. He was a trier, willing to try anything if I asked it of him.

He was my student. He was my teacher. He was my partner.

Most of all he was my friend and I am richer for having had him in my life, and poorer for having lost him.

Remembering and Healing

After my first horse was euthanized I took his bridle home and dragged it about from residence to residence for several years before I finally figured out what to do with it. I always knew exactly where it was - it was never left in a box. I knew I wanted the bridle on display but it took me a long time before I worked out how to manage it. I ended up putting it in a shadow box with a laminate mounted photo, a lock of mane, a feather I'd found out hacking one day, a horse shoe and a couple of engraved plates - one with his name and dates, the other with the final verse of the poem I'd written for him.

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I know I want to make a shadow box for this horse too. I have his tail and his halter. I will get a plate with his name, registration number and dates done. The photo is, as it was the first time, the most difficult task of all. Going through all the photos I can find to see which would be the best choice to put into the box. It brings back many memories of the days we shared and I think about some of the photos I really liked and go looking for them. Maybe that one? No, it's not quite right - the pose, or perhaps a cluttered background. Do I want a head shot or a full body picture? I chose a full body shot of my first horse - one that I took the day before the vet came. He was a difficult horse to photograph, but I got better at taking good pictures of him over time.

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My second horse was quite photogenic and I have lots of good photos of him. Very few photos good or bad from our competitions - somehow the show photographer was always at another ring whenever we were on. I haven't yet found the photo I want, but I have time. There is no hurry to get the shadow box finished as it is a part of the healing process.