One Last Ride

When do you know it's time? When do you know you're satisfied when you know it's your last time experiencing this moment? When do you tell yourself that you have to stop? When do you know you're ready to say 'see you later?' 

You don't. At least that's the conclusion I've come to. You just don't know, you just do it. Because not doing it is just delaying the inevitable. So you savor every single milisecond of that moment. You soak it all into every fiber of your being. You put a permanent hold on that smell, that feel, that sound so you'll never, ever forget it.

Never have I ever had a ride so full of tears. So flooded with emotions and memories. Never have I ever watched the last 26 years flash before my eyes while the wind blew through my hair and the warmth of my gelding radiated around me. Never has one moment been so full of love, memories, smiles, laughter, sadness. Never has my face been so drenched in tears but my heart full of so much promise, hope and clarity. Never have I ever been on a roller coaster quite this thrilling and scary.

For old times sake, I took one last ride on my partner for the last 26 years. One last time around the pasture just like as a kid. One last time as just him and I, the wind, the birds, the quiet of nature. Lost in our thoughts, his breath, his warmth and his smell. One last look between those big, fuzzy ears to see the world from a different angle. One last hoo-rah before his new journey begins and ours ends.

Growing up I was always the "crazy horse girl" the "horse lover..." I wrote "I love (heart) horses" on every assignment in school. My friend, Amber, and I pretended we were horses galloping around the school yard during recess. On the weekends, I was off to my grandma's. Some weekends we had horse shows, so I was out of school on Friday's... other weekends, as soon as I arrived at the farm, I jumped on my gelding bareback and we rode around his private pasture until sundown. I still remember the sound of my grandma's voice from the living room window "Brandyyyyyy! It's after dark, you need to come inside now!" But I always rode around just a few more times, pushing the limits, until I knew it was time. 

There were even times, during crazy thunderstorms, I would run outside as fast as I could, heart thumping in fear of the lightning, just to pull Flame inside, safe, out of the storm. He always gave me a look of disappointment and annoyance, as if to say "come on now, it's just a little lightning!" But I would be lost without him. I would cry at night at the thought of not having Flame, even as a small child. I was scared to lose him, scared of what it would be like to love another horse. Flame was all I knew. 

Fast forward and here we are. 26, nearly 27, years later and the closing of a chapter. Feeling his breath on my skin, his muzzle pressing me forward, his warmth beneath me as we soar, my hair trailing behind me in the wind with tears stinging my eyes. As we come to a stop, I know it's time. I'm ready. I've filled my cup, I've raced through the memories, I've set in stone the familiarity of his movement. I'm OK. I'll be OK without him. He will go on to do amazing things and live out the rest of his life in blissful harmony, it just won't be with me.

So my ole guy went to his new, forever home on Wednesday October 7. I'm still feeling an array of emotions but I know in my  heart that it was the right decision. He is going to make his new little girl very happy. He is going to be so loved and so spoiled! I'm very excited to follow his journey from here on out!

I need to take a moment to thank everyone who has been there for me with words of support and wisdom through this process. I know it's not over as I still have one horse with an undetermined future... but those of you who have cared enough to reach out and virtually hug me through these difficult decision deserve a gold medal. I'm so lucky to have such an amazing Horse Show Family!

Until next time, friends