There are few things in life that bring a tear to my eyes. Raised in a house hold like the one I was you learn to grow a tough hide (more than you should, of course I am a softy when it comes to my kids, I cant help it, they are some of the few). And I must give credit where credit is due. Through out my childhood and teenage years I didn't have many friends, being moved from school to school all the time (no I wasn't a expelled, it had nothing to do with that), what I did have (and this was owed to my fathers need to make everything into a business) was a horse, Khali. Of course he didn't talk much but he sure could listen. I would climb on his back after I had fed all the horses and cleaned the stalls and be gone until the sun would go down, sometimes my best friend and self appointed sister Michelle would go and other times it was just Khali and I off to explore the ditch and the river bank. Lets put it this way, if I wasn't working I was riding.
Riding my horse (at the time) was the only thing that made me feel at home. No I don't mean he reminded me of the place I lived, I mean that I felt that I was where I belonged when I was on his back. This also went for other horses, but none of the others gave me that sense of home like he did. I can still close my eyes and feel the wind in my face, and here the leaves rustle on the trees and even more important the beat of his hooves as they hit the ground taking me away from my worries as we galloped along on our path to nowhere.
He is now almost 26 years old and still the same gentle soul he used to be. For a while he has been out of my possession, it is a long story but I will say that what I saw the first time seeing him in a year threw me into labor 2 months early. He had lost drastic weight because the person who had him decided to move him from his home, and change his feeding routine drastically, not to mention the lack of veterinary attention. My heart sank as I stared at this old friend of mine, who has already been through enough and here he was with his ribs showing through and his hips poking out. For the next two months while in and out of the hospital I panicked as to how I was going to "fix" this (be reassured that I did start him back on a healthier feed routine), with lack of funds and no where to put him, I cried all the time.
Shortly after baby Nev was born, I plucked up the courage to ask someone I had only met three times for help. I knew that they were good people but I have always been bad at asking for help, actually I am petrified of it (strange I know but there is a reason). To my relief, they were more than willing to help me find someone who could take him in for a while. It just so happened that they had a friend who was looking to lease an older horse for her 8 year old to ride in the walk/trot classes in shows and she wouldn't mind helping me get the weight back on him. The best part of the whole deal is that I can come and ride him (after he has recovered of course) and take as much part as I want to in his life while they lease him, including being able to see my 4 year old ride in his first horse show :) something I had always hoped I would see him do on my old horse, who I have always planned on keeping until he passes away (It's the least I can do for the best friend I ever had). So extreme thanks are in order.
Thank you Jamie and Connie G. and an even bigger thank you to Carrie F. for taking him in. It means the world to me.
For Now,








