I'll miss his nicker each time i'd say "Hello Mr. Bass".
It hurts
more than words can capture. Tuesday, January 20th, as I hugged him and scratched his
favorite places, I didnt know it would be the last time he'd rub on me.
Looking back now, I think he was saying goodbye.
The first time I met him, he captured my horse crazy heart. In the
field of his herd mates, he tried to get all my attention. They say a
Morgan chooses you, it is definitely true. I knew after that first
meeting, that he had to be mine. I was 14 and he was 4.
Fond memories
of riding, and shows, and even his bucking episode on the front lawn.
At the time I counted how many times, it seemed to go in slow motion,
but I stayed on. I tore my shoulder muscle but he never bucked again
after that! I would read to him in the barn, do my homework with him.
My best friend.
I'm sorry I had to let him go when circumstances were
out of my control. I tried to keep track of where he was. I even went
to a dressage show he was in. Eventually I didnt see his name in any of
the shows. Years apart and never a day went by that I didnt think of
him and wonder where he was.
On a whim I emailed a farm in Connecticut
to see if they had heard of him. I thank my stars everyday that a
local horse farm took him in 7 years ago. He was once again mine, mine
to stay until his last day. These past 7 years went too fast, but I'm
glad to have had them. Thrilled to have been able to ride him, still
as spunky and full of heart.
He'd prance at the end of the lead, not
to misbehave, but just to show off or to say he was feeling good. He
taught me patience and strength.
My best friend, I thought I had more
time.
Rest in peace my old friend, WBM's Ambassador 06/09/1985- 01/21/2015