As I'm writing this I am in tears.
Pretzel turned 32 this year. She was a bay QH mare. I acquired her when I was nine. She taught me so much when others couldn't.
I had a lot of horses growing up but Pretzel was one of those that really stood out and influenced me. She was old, but she was spunky. She would run all day without ever going sore. She was healthy beyond belief. She was a trail horse if I ever did see one. She spooked at nothing, and led fearlessly wherever I pointed her.
When I first got her home, I was scared of her. I don't even know why, looking back. I think it was because she had a habit of trotting to catch up with other horses, and I wasn't used to ANY horse ever acting out of line. Her brakes were kinda rusty too. Even though I was showing horses at age 9, I had enough fear in me for two. I never told anyone about that fear.
But the more I rode Pretzel the more I got confident. The more I wanted to try new things. The more I wanted to run just because I could and not because the barrel pattern demanded it. I wanted to swim her in the lake and run through the creek and race other horses across the pasture.
I learned everything about being confident on her. I would put city slickers on her just because I wanted to show off how good my horse was.
But then I turned 13 I wanted to advance past what was right to ask of an old horse. I rode her in the 4th of July parade, and then I gave her to my best friend's little brother whos horse had had to be put down the night before.
I hated myself for a long time. I felt like I had betrayed her. That is, until I started going down there to ride her. The family let me with not hesitation because they knew how important she was to me, and how much I had loved her.
I remember when I went horse camping with my friends, and she kicked my Mom's horse. And then just last year she kicked me on Rebel. But we all laughed and I still loved her, because she was just a grumpy old lady.
I had not seen her at all this summer. I had started to move on. Looking back now, I hate myself for not visiting. I hate myself for not seeing this coming.
I got the call this morning at 11:30. She was gone before I ever got in my truck to go to the house. And I'll never see her again. She died of a stroke. I'm trying to tell myself that God just had a scared little girl in need of a horse. But its not making this any easier.
Goodbye Pretzel.... My friend, my parent, and my guardian. I'll see you in heaven baby girl...
Pssh.I didn't pick up the wrong lead
It's called a counter canter...
...A very advanced maneuver.