Sunny
Well-Known Member
She took my breath away the first time I saw her 23 years ago. She was this bright copper sorrel filly, just two months old, and I fell in love with her right away. I would visit her on weekends until she was old enough to be weaned, and we'd play games of tag out in the pasture. When I could finally bring her home, we spent hours and hours together. She was smart as a whip and learned everything so quickly. My biggest challenge with her always was keeping HER challenged. She came with me when I moved out to B.C., where we went on trail rides in the mountains, took riding lessons together, took part in a musical drill team thing, competed in shows, and she gave birth to the first of four foals. When my husband and I got married, he rode her and I rode that filly who was three by then. My daughter learned to ride on her, and my heart swelled with pride.
She took my breath away all those years ago, and continued to do it every day of her life. Today, though, we took her breath away. My dear old Brat was laid to rest this morning. I was away and my friend was looking after the animals in our absence. She was well aware of the situation. When she arrived to do morning chores, she found the Brat down in her stall and unable to get up, even onto her sternum. She called the vet immediately, who said he would come but was recommending euthanasia, and then called me. I had to give the go ahead. I couldn't let her suffer. She looks so peaceful lying there in her stall, and looks like she'll get right up when she hears my voice, but she doesn't.... she never will.
She took my breath away, and the biggest piece of my heart that any animal ever had.
She took my breath away all those years ago, and continued to do it every day of her life. Today, though, we took her breath away. My dear old Brat was laid to rest this morning. I was away and my friend was looking after the animals in our absence. She was well aware of the situation. When she arrived to do morning chores, she found the Brat down in her stall and unable to get up, even onto her sternum. She called the vet immediately, who said he would come but was recommending euthanasia, and then called me. I had to give the go ahead. I couldn't let her suffer. She looks so peaceful lying there in her stall, and looks like she'll get right up when she hears my voice, but she doesn't.... she never will.
She took my breath away, and the biggest piece of my heart that any animal ever had.
