Friday, June 8, 2012


My old horse died this weekend. I don't know of what, but I assume colic because he was prone to colic and he  was only 18. I had sold him to a girl, about 7 years ago and he was much happier with her than he ever was with me. She didn't have anywhere near the amount of pressure I had to "make" him be the right horse and was able to get along with him at the level he was comfortable at. I made a mistake with him trying to make him into a 3'6" horse - he clearly had the talent and ability but zero interest.

I put him up for sale with the idea that I would turn around and buy the jumper I wanted but he was fairly unsaleable due to all the surgeries he'd had. So I settled for selling him for next to nothing to a girl who loved him and kept him forever and took such good care of him that it was the best possible scenario. It's bittersweet because he was supposed to be my gateway to actually being competitive and not having to worry about where my next mount is coming from or where my current mount is leaving (e.g. Ruby left and now I have nothing at Casey's except ponies, ponies and more ponies). Here I am, 30 years old, still clinging on to this goal that, for all the effort I have made, I still feel further away from than ever.

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