My shire mare Mafalda, whom was a kind and gentle soul, passed away on her 9th birthday. On July 4 I went down to the big pasture to see her and her pasture companions. Her two friends were running around frantically whinnying. I noticed that my mare, Mafalda, was not among them. So I went into the pasture and began to look around and soon I found her. She was laying on her side and looked as though she was sleeping, her eyes were closed and she looked at piece. With tears in my eyes I called my friend to come and help me bury my horse. She now rests in the shade of an apple tree that overlooks the pasture she spent the better part of seven years in. My other shires often stand and stare into that direction for hours on end.