The little mare with the big neigh

Sometimes, I really wish I was a pet owner. Especially when my co-workers come in with adorable photos, and you can hear them gush about their animals. You know they love them, even if they call them little shits. I knew what kind of love that was, especially when I did have my horse. Which, it still kind of breaks my heart to drive past a pasture full of horses out goofing around and to think of my infuriating little mare and her attitude. How she’d come to me when I called her, but yet in the saddle, she’d play as many games trying to get Sarah on the damn ground/jumping pole/wet sand. I miss her every day of my life, without the intensity of the days in the beginning, but I still have dreams we didn’t put her down.

Then, I wake up, near tears, realizing it’s just that.. a dream. It’s the death of a hobby, a part of my life I’ve always had, a passion. I’ve been with horses for so long, but there was only one of her. One little shit that had the personality of a real person and the intelligence which far surpassed mine. She was one smart girl, much more so than me lots of times, and even though I’d like to think I won our battles when she was a filly and I was training her, I know the truth. She won, and she always did because I’d lose my temper, she’d lose hers, and I’d end up on the ground multiple times in one day.

She had this weird little habit that was uniquely her when she got nervous and anxious. She’d flap her lower lip like crazy when I was riding. It was the goofiest thing, but it was totally her. And when she was feeling sweet, she’d put her nose on your shoulder, and wiggle her upper lip on your shirt. It’d melt my heart every time. Even after she did something to upset me, I’d still end up smiling when she did that.

I try not to think about her. It still hurts like a fresh cut every time. I’ve healed somewhat, watching horses without crying, but if I think too much, I get all emotional. She also had this deep neigh whenever she would see you coming. My girl sounded like a stallion instead of a mare, it was quite a bellow. And, listening to her, people would ask me about ‘him’ and think she was a guy because she didn’t sound too petite. But, everything else about her was very girly girl. She hated to get her hooves wet or dirty so she’d stay away from puddles or even wet ground of a different color. There was many a battle I lost trying to get her over a little puddle. I’d end up dismounting, and leading her through it without a problem with the both of us on the ground.

And, the man is unfortunately allergic to animals so a pet is always a touchy subject with him. And, well, at this new apartment we aren’t allowed to have a pet. So, no furry critters for me.

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