Carrie, ever since I was old enough to know what a horse was, I wanted one. You were my first. There have been others, you know that, but you were the fulfillment of a dream. You were just six months old when you came to me, needing a mom and not caring that I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing. We learned together, you and I, how to be that perfect unit of horse and human. In harness, your beauty brought glory to even the most shabby leather. And your sweet nature created the illusion that I was a more than competent handler. I had offer after offer from people who wanted to buy you, but I always said, “No, Carrie will grow old and die with me.”
But you didn’t grow old. You left me on a beautiful summer day, in the prime of your life.
Carrie, you helped make me what I always wanted to be – a horse person. Do you remember what our friend Percy used to say to me? “You’ll be a fine horsewoman, because you’ve got a fine horse.”
You were the finest, Carrie.
Get up, Carrie. Straight on to Heaven.
| Carrie |
| 22, Aug 2006 |
| Wendy |