Skitter by Liz Larson / Liz

Ever since I can remember I wanted a horse. At times it hurt, I wanted one so badly. So when I moved to Montana I thought that maybe, just maybe, this was my chance.

I made friends with a lady named Debbie. She had several horses that she kept at her boyfriend’s place.
One of the horses was Skitter.

Skitter was a big chestnut that reminded me of Secretariat. His mama was half thoroughbred, half quarter horse. On the thoroughbred side she traced to two triple crown winners:
Count Fleet and Whirlaway.

You’d think that maybe Skitter would be a bit on the flighty side with that pedigree, but he wasn’t at all. He was pretty cool really. He knew the ability of the rider on his back and he acted accordingly. With a beginner he was like a pony. With a rider who had some ability he could be difficult.
With me it was pure magic.

Debbie said I could ride him whenever I wanted. And I did. Over the next 5 or 6 months I spent every moment I could with Skitter. One night I put an English saddle on him, used a bench, and got on. He turned around and gave me a look I’ll never forget. After about 30 seconds he turned around and started off just like he’d always been ridden
under an English saddle.

We rode in the mountains, on the flat, all over. I think we grew to really love each other. I know I loved him. His eyes were soft when he looked at me so I think he loved me too.

One day I went to get him and Debbie told me that she had sold Skitter. She and her boyfriend had a fight, and he said that Skitter had to go. So she sold him. She then told me that she wanted to give him to me, but with no place to keep him, and not knowing my money situation, she sold the horse.

I helped her take Skitter over to his new owner’s after one last ride. I led him to his new paddock. I remember hugging him good bye and giving the lead to his new owners. I never saw him again.

Today I found out that Skitter died three years ago. An old injury was causing him too much pain and he was put down. It was the right thing to do.

Skitter was a wonderful friend and I had always hoped that I would see him again. Finding out he was gone hurts and opened all the old wounds and anger again.

I know that somewhere Skitter is galloping around, with no pain, and having a wonderful time. I hope that someday I get to see him in that place, even if for only a minute. I’d hug him, tell him I loved him, and give him a kiss.

In the meantime, I have all those wonderful memories of our times together and no one can take those away from me.

I chose the music I did because while we were together Skitter made me so happy –
he was the Wind Beneath My Wings.

I love you Skitter, where ever you are tonight.
Rest well my friend, until we meet again.


I Love You Always,
May 2000
Liz Larson