In the past couple of days I've been talking to people, and some were telling me how they were sorry my horse died even though it was 3 months ago, I kind of hid during that time. One lady came up to me and gave me a picture of her grazing under the old apple trees (I cried when I seen it), another lady gave me a picture of her running up the hill. Three men said it was lonely working on the hill because she use to stand at the gate and talk to them when they stopped. The family next to her field was telling me how she would look over the rock wall and nicker to them in the morning, and snort at their silly dog. A friend of the family told me when she couldn't sleep at night she would go over to her field and talk to Mooney. The neighbor hood kids loved rubbing her ears when they came to see her (they knew never to give treats). When I really thought about it Mooney has over a dozen people that have stories of her, that miss her almost as much as I do. Mooney meant something to so many people, it is strange when I stopped to think that I was not the only one the grieved for her.