I Love You. And not in that half-joking, half-sincere way that a lot of people say those words today. No, I really do love you. You were my best friend throughout everything that I have gone through since I met you, and that's a whole dang lot. You were the one listener that I could always count on never to judge me. Some people might laugh and say that that's because you were a horse and couldn't understand what I was saying anyway, but I think that you understood me better than a lot of people who thought they knew me.
It seems so much longer than three years that you were with me. I knew from the first time that I saw you at the barn that you were something special. Mainly because you were pretty much horrible the first time I rode you, and yet I still loved you from the start. I think it was your personality that really got me. Sometimes, I almost forgot that you were a horse because everything that you did was so much like a human. You knew that when I was in the tack room after a ride, that meant I was getting a treat for you, so you would always pose with your ears up and the most angelic face that you could manage. You knew when I was feeling down and you would turn your head around and give me a horsey hug, so that I could put my arms around your neck and cry. Unlike some horses, who run away when someone comes to catch them, you would come trotting over to me. That is, unless Duke or Tempest was somewhere nearby. You formed friendships with other horses that are sometimes a little too strong. But at the same time, you loved to be with people. When I rode you, you weren't afraid to give your opinion on whether we should go home or go faster or the fact that there was a gorgeous log jump just over there that you would like to go over, but then when my little nieces or nephews wanted a ride, you were the most obedient pony ever. You knew when someone needed to be taken care of.
When I first started riding you, I was scared to death, haunted by every single bad memory that I had of riding and you hadn't been ridden in five years. You were re-learning everything. I was breaking down my barriers. We taught each other, we learned together, we became an inseparable team. The thing is, you didn't just teach me about riding. I was more confident in everything. You taught me responsibility, because I couldn't leave you out there cold, wet, and hungry even though I had to hike about half a mile in freezing rain to find you. Most of all though, you taught me friendship. I don't think I will ever find a better friend than you. You were my other half, you completed me. Neither of us had control really, we worked together. You may not have been a show horse, but I'm not a show rider. You wanted what I wanted, I think, lots of trails, some quiet riding, but at a moments notice, we could soar over three foot log spreads. Then after we jumped, you were just as calm as could be. There are a lot of lessons that humans could learn from you, Mickey.
Then, it all stopped. The terrible part for me was that I hadn't seen you for two weeks and barely at all for two weeks before that. Even worse than that though was that I wasn't there for you when it happened. You were always there for me, but when you needed me most, I wasn't there. I don't know if I can ever forgive myself for that. I don't know why God called you back to him, but I know that He had a plan and has a plan for you and for me.
Six months ago today, you were taken from me. But really you weren't. You'll always be in my heart, though no matter how much I wish I could, I will never be able to see you in the flesh again. I may not be able to stroke your nose or cry into your mane any more, but you're always on my mind and in my spirit. Thank you, Mickey, thank you for all that you gave me. I miss you more than you could imagine and I will never, ever forget you.
All My Love,
Margaret
