A Letter to my Baby Girl, First Horse, and Best Friend

Dear Rosie,

I don't know where to start. My heart is broken and my chest hurts. I'm still crying even though I've been crying all afternoon. My life suddenly got empty and came to a sliding halt when I was seated on my porch and told that you were gone. My world revolved around you. Everything I did and worked for, it was all for you and now you're gone, and I'm not quite sure what to do. 

I can remember the first time I laid eyes on you. You were squeaky clean and wearing a clean blue blanket. It was the Idaho Horse Expo, Friday April 16, 2009. I remember the first time I sat on your back. You weren't interested in me in the least, but I was hoping, praying silent prayers that you'd be the one. And you were. We clicked almost instantly. I rode you in my old English leather saddle and your halter (the first testament to your honesty and gentle but excited nature). I was new to you, but you took care of me. You've taken care of me every time I can think. You've never once tried to hurt me. You were gentle, kind, and trusting. You forgave my mistakes and all the wrong I've done you in the past two years.

I remember waiting, with fingers crossed on Saturday April 17, 2009 for the vet to call and say that you passed the vet check. I was overjoyed when the call finally came that you had passed with flying colors. I remember going back on Sunday to sign the Bill of Sale. At 10:30 A.M. Sunday April 18, 2009, you became mine.

I remember when you first arrived at Trina's barn. I was so excited. You came in Sabrina's big trailer and green truck. The previous Sunday, the Bill of Sale had been signed and you were officially mine. But having your lead rope passed to me. Taking hold of it and leading you to your new home, that sealed the deal. You were really, honestly and truly mine. I sat on you bareback that day. The first time I'd sat on any horse bareback. And even in a brand new barn, with new people and smells, you took care of me. A halter, a lead rope and me was all the you had on and you still didn't take advantage. I couldn't sleep that night. The thought of you, my own horse, waiting out at a place I could finally call "my barn", was more than I could handle. School came the next morning and I remember telling everyone I could that I had a new horse and she was all mine.

I remember our rocky start. I was waiting for a Black Beauty but you weren't having any of it. You hated me and I remember being so heartbroken. I cried on several occasions but I promised myself it would get better. And it did. I made stupid mistakes. Stupid, ignorant mistakes, but you stuck with me. You kept trying and kept forgiving me and I thank you with all my heart you did. We had a bond so strong that most people were in awe. Everyone loved you. Every person who met you loved you in some form or another. You were the horse everyone wished theirs was.

I remember our first summer. Gabbi and Twilight, You and Me. All those trail rides, summer adventures. I remember fondly the discovering of our huge cave and the RR tracks we found. I remember that one afternoon when we all headed out on the trail in the middle-of-the-day summer heat. Everyone thought we were crazy. Sure enough. We got to a point when we were so hot and exhausted. Gabbi called her mom from out on the trail and begged her to meet us back at the barn with ice cold drinks. I remember when Twilight took off and you and I chased her until it got dangerous. You loved the chase. You're competitive like me. You'll keep pushing and if I ask for just a little bit more, you'll kick it up into a whole new gear.

I remember the gallops along the gravel road across from our barn. You love that road. Stretching out for more than a mile, I'm in sync with your gallop and we hit 25-30 miles an hour. I remember one afternoon we raced Twilight and Gabbi. We won. We always won, you wouldn't let us lose.

I remember our jogs. I'd come out to the barn in running shorts and tennis shoes and I'd throw on your halter and off we'd go. We loved each other, didn't we? You'd follow me on our jogs. Half the time I wasn't holding onto your lead rope. You were content to trot alongside me and observe your surroundings. I remember one evening in particular. We were headed back to the barn after one of our jogs and all of sudden you stopped and looked behind you. Ears perked and nostrils flared. I turned to look and there was a coyote. Standing just like you were, no doubt wondering the same thing too. I was a bit concerned. We were out here by ourselves and this coyote could cause trouble if it wanted to. I took your lead rope and we continued. The coyote followed us. We'd stop to look behind us and he'd stop as well. When we continued, he followed. It was sort of White Fang-ish. As soon as we got close to the barn though, he figured enough was enough and went on his way.

I remember our first show in the summer of 2010. I was just about as nervous and high strung as you were. But we did amazing. You tried your hardest and that's all I needed. Your courage and honesty got us through those 2' and 2'3" classes. I believe we placed third and fourth in those classes respectively. I still have the ribbons from all our shows. I have our first place ribbon, 2 third place ribbons, 2 4th place ribbons and a 5th place ribbon. My favorite is our ginormous Reserve Champion ribbon we got at Nancy's last schooling show. We tried hard for that one.

Looking back now, I realize you were more than a best friend for me. You were and still are my world. Everything I strive for is for you. My heart belongs to you and always will. It's amazing the things that you did for me. You introduced me to new people. People I wouldn't have met if I hadn't had you. I met Claire at one of Nancy's shows and if it hadn't been for you standing by my side, I wouldn't have had the courage to go talk to her. But you made it possible. You stood stead fast by my side, lending yourself to the subject of small talk, all of it so that I could make a new friend. You brought Julie, David, Trina, Cara, Diane, Gabbi, Janet, Nancy and so many other people into my life, that I would have never met if you hadn't been for you. You expanded my self-confidence and built my character. I think in turn, we helped each other grow.

"A dog is a man's best friend." True, it may be a man's best friend. But my horse, was my best friend. Rosie, you were always there for me. You gave your shoulder for me to cry on, you lent me your speed and grace when I needed to escape my world for awhile. You provided comic relief when I was in need of a "picker-upper". All in all, you gave much more to me, than I can ever repay to you. You helped make my world, who I am and who I wish to be. You gave me more than I could ever ask for and in return, I find myself coming up short handed. But know this, you have my love, my heart, my soul, everything. Take it, take it all. And never give it back. I have some of your tail, mane and forelock to carry with me. Something that I can hold onto, something that smells of you. I can never hug you again, sit on your broad back one more time, but I can always, always love you.

I remember our last day together. Tuesday, May 10, 2011. It was a mildly warm evening. It was three days after your return to your buds in the back pasture. I used the curry comb to try and rid you of all the shed hair that clinged to you. You were content in eating the sweet, H20 filled grass that was abundant next to the trailer. After saddling you up, I realized I'd left your bridle at home. So just like the first day I met you, I rode you in my English saddle and a halter. We galloped around the outdoor arena, we worked on transitions, I started having you side pass along the fence lines. Sidepassing on the side of the arena facing the driveway was harder than the other long side for some reaason. You sidepassed fine in one direction, but heading up the other was another story. You are smart. You've always been smart. You always caught on to things so quickly and you remembered everything you were ever taught. You knew what hand that carrot would be in, you knew the crinkle-sound of the Ziploc bag that for sure held something in it for you. You knew the tinkle of girth buckles as I slid the saddle over your back. The sun began to set, and the wind picked up, and we enjoyed our slow, quiet walk around the arena as Gabbi and Twilight cantered around us. I played with the stones on top of the barrels and you, without so much of a question as to why the hell you were walking by this dumb barrel, did everything I asked with the simplest of touches.

I remember the last carrot you slurped out of my hand. When I first got you, I taught you to bite the carrot. Eat it, bit by bit. I told you you were smart. You knew where my hand was and you weren't going to bite it. You'd wait for me to slide my hand further down the carrot, out of harm's way. I told you to bite the carrot, and bite it you did. Chewing, swallowing and back for more. You'd go nuts for some grain. The yummy molasses grain Gabbi always kept stocked for Twilight. I'd usually sneak a handful or so for you and on lucky occasions, Gabbi would allow me to give you a bucket full of grain.

I remember the last words I said to you as I undid your halter. "I'll see you soon darlin'." You looked at me and then as usual, sauntered off. I'd always expect you to turn on your heels and throw a buck and gallop off to rejoin the group. But you usually wouldn't. Occasionally you'd throw in one of those but mostly, you'd calmly turn and trot back to your group; laying back your ears when necessary to snap your herd back in line.

I miss you more than words can ever say. I thank every star I have that our last day was so nice. We had our fights and I wouldn't have ever forgiven myself if it had ended like that. It hurts knowing I will never again feel your walk, your smooth trot, your goofy counter-canter and your amazingly fast gallop. I will never be able to ride you over a jump or throw my arms around your neck again. I miss your warm skin, your fuzzy white and brown fur that would weave itself into every piece of clothing I own; even the ones that never came out to the barn with me. I have realized that the little things, remind me the most of you. I always think that I need to clean your girth and get rid of all the shedding fur that has stuck itself onto the fleece. I'm glad I haven't. That small thing. The fur on your girth is what made all this tack yours. The dirt in your jumping boots, the mashed up grass on your bit, the sweat stains on the saddle pad. It all belongs to you and I have no right to take any of it away. If this tack was cleaned and oiled and sterilized like all the tack the fancy show horses have, it becomes an accessory, not an item that clearly belongs to a special horse.

Everyone misses you dear. Everyone loved you. But I love you the most. I miss you the most and I don't know if I can ever give any of my heart to any other. You stole my heart and I don't want it back. It's yours, it belongs to you. It has your fur on it, your slimy snot and rabid looking apple spit on it. It has your hoof print on it. I have two volumes of diaries that I wrote of every single day I went out to see you. I think it covers almost a year, if not more. It has memories of Christmas's and snow days. Like the one time you pulled my sisters in their orange sleds around the barn parking lot. At first you didn't know what the hell I was making you do, but after awhile, your patience and willingness to find out and make do with what was going on, paid off. You allowed me to use you to pull my sisters around on sleds for something like an hour. Those diaries have memories of late night barn visits when Gabbi and I would don capes and jester hats and parade around the indoor arena like medieval knights. You provided me with warmth on those cold winter trail rides. You helped my creative juices flow when Gabbi and I would concoct NCIS episode plot lines, lending yourself to be my brave and heroic steed, saving Gibbs from an almost certain demise.

Rosie, you are my Baby Girl, my First Horse, my First Love and Best Friend. You have so many of my "first-time-doing-this" cards that you no doubt hold a world record. You have my first canter card, you have my first gallop card (which scared the shit out of me), you have my first horse card, my first real jump card, my first show card, my first horse kick card, you have them all. Most important though, you have my First Best Friend card. You my dear, are the definition of a best friend. You would listen when I needed you to listen, you forgave me for all the wrong I did and the mistakes I made, you helped me through tough times and you were always there for me. You were always my refuge, my safe haven.

We had a bond that I will never ever recreate with anyone else. You allowed me to sit at your feet and lean against your legs and watch sunsets. Your neck had the perfect arch so that when I hugged you I fit perfectly. You had the funniest and cutest face any horse could posses. You were such a tomboy. You pooped all over your tail and didn't care. You weren't fancy, you weren't purebred, you didn't have papers, but you were PERFECT. You were mine and you knew it. You'd follow me everywhere I went, stopping along the way for any mouthful of greenery you could find. You were perfect. I remember every time that I would bring someone out to the barn, to show you off, to allow them to ride you. It didn't matter who it was, you would alwasy test them. You ran off with them. The only time you ever did anything of that sort. Invariably, they fell off and as I worried as I was that they might be hurt, I couldn't help but feel a small hint of joy inside. You had never run off with me. You knew you were mine and that, just as you belonged to me, I belonged to you.

This letter could go on for years, really it could. Darlin' you know me, once I get talkin', I'm like a freakin' freight train with the brakes missing. And here comes the hard part. I wish with all my heart I could have been by your side during those final few hours. You were always brave and so you pushed through by yourself. I wasn't by your side in the moment that you most needed me. I didn't hold your head and tell you its OK, like you had done for me so many times before. While I was complaining about sitting through a long concert, you were bravely fighting your last battle. I'm so sorry. With all my heart I would turn back the clock and do anything I could to make it different. I'd have kept you in the stall a week more until you weren't in heat anymore, I'd get you medicine or walk you around until your stomach felt better. I'd tell you that I love you and would be by your side for as long as it took. Darlin', I'm so sorry. I would do it over again. I let you down and for that, there is no forgiveness. You are happy now. For that I'm sure. Wherever you are, you are happy. You deserve the best and only the best. You are kind, gentle, loving and patient. You helped me learn so many different things including patience and forgiveness. I thank you for all the people you brought me and for all the friendships you helped me create and maintain. As I held your head for the last time today, I realized all the things you meant to me. You were my world and I was prepared to make your world the most comfortable and happy world possible. You were my friend and we loved each other more than should be possible. I thank every star, god, whatever, that we came to be together. That all the horses I had looked at before weren't the ones and that I had found you and brought you home with me. You made my world and I hope that I made yours.

Be happy and keep talking. Once in awhile if you wouldn't mind, say hi. I'd love to hear your neigh again. Keep my soul and heart and love close so that I'll always know its safe. Know that you meant the world to me and nothing will ever change that. I cherish the memories we built together and I pray that you have some favorites as well. Let your soul fly high and remember to stay in shape. Not too much grass and not too much grain and remember to let your speed and grace loose every once in a while. Remember to lift your tail when you poop and remember that the blanket I put on you wasn't a monster out to get you. Most of all, remember me. Remember how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Promise me that, and we should both be happy.

I love you my dear Desert Rose, my Rosie. You were loved by all and remember to say hi occasionally, ok? Until next time Rosie, "I'll see you soon, darlin'."

Love with all my heart,

Mac

P.S.

Let me know what I should do next. You always knew the right decision and I trust you to make this decision. Let me know what I should do. Oh, and never get rid of the Cruela Devil stripe in your mane. It gives you character.

I lost my best friend Friday, May 13, 2011. Rosie died of Colic. At 7, she was too young. She was full of life, compassion, curiosity and drive. She was the perfect horse and I will miss her greatly. I had plans to take her to college. I promised her a forever home and that still stands. I envisioned days, years from now when I could look out my back window and see an old but happy Rosie eating grass. This summer, my dream was to bring Rosie to my city home backyard and ride her in my own yard, as I had dreamed I wanted to do since as long as I can remember. Rosie will run in my backyard this summer. She can be in my backyard all year if she wants. This past April (April 18, 2011), we passed our two year mark. Rosie and I had been partners for two years although it always felt like only yesterday she officially became mine. For two years we experienced pain, hardship, joy and victory. We were two bodies and one heart. Rosie may physically be gone from this world, but her soul and spirit will live on. She touched the hearts of many and stole mine immediately. She will take much better care of it then I ever could have. I love you Rosie with all my heart and I pray that one day, I will see you again. Good-bye Rosie.

R.I.P Desert Rose "Rosie"

Photo Shoot

A couple of months ago, Rosie and I had a photo shoot and I really liked how some of the photos came out.

DON'T COPY THE PHOTOS. ALL COURTESY GOES TO ANGELA WACHTER. PHOTOS OWNED BY ME!! IF YOU WANT TO USE THEM, ASK!!! Thanks!

A Lesson, A Life Lesson and A Midnight Story

A Lesson: 
Today, Rosie and I had an o.k. lesson. Rosie and I have a show coming up Oct 3 and have decided we are ready to move up another level (alright only 3", but hey...). Julie(One of my favorite people, Gabbi you are DEFINITELY top on my favorite person list but...) in the world watched as well.
   We started out with groundwork and I am really proud of both Rosie and me. We have come such a long way in our flat work and could now potentially consider actually entering a dressage test. After working quite a bit on flat work, we moved onto lengthening and shortening strides over fences. The way we did this is: we set out 4 ground poles (each pole approximately 2 ft long) on opposite sides of each other, forming the ends of an X. Starting at a trot, we came around to one side of the X, took a "leap" stride over the pole and then lengthened her stride to make the next ground pole in a 2 stride distance. Then come around and head down the other side of the X and do the same. Rosie and I MASTERED 2 strides! It was perfect!

"Now shorten to 3!," came Nancy's voice. Ohhhh crap.

   So we come around to face the X again, starting in a trot. "leap" stride, 1 stride, 2 stride, CLUNK! ...Yah...
   To better explain, in order to fit in 3 strides in a 2 stride space, you have to drastically shorten the canter stride. By drastically, I mean shorten it by 2-5 ft! So, after doing the leap stride into the combination, you have to shorten, shorten, shorten. Rosie and I can lengthen beautifully. Shortening the stride is another matter entirely! We get the leap stride, 1st stride gets sort of shortened, 2nd stride a little bit more and then we can't hardly ever manage to shorten enough to throw in one more stride. We have gotten close, but its never quite graceful. We'll eventually get it!
   At the end of our lesson, Rosie and I jumped to new heights, literally. On October 3, we have our last show of the summer/fall season (as far as I know) and we both feel ready to move up a class. This coming Sunday, we have enrolled in one 2' class, two 2'3" classes and (*drum roll....) a 2'6" CLASS!! For the first time today, Rosie and I schooled 2'6". And guess what?

WE JUMPED IT!

     At first it wasn't very graceful, but with patient, diligent work, by the end of the lesson, Rosie and I were gracefully jumping the verticals. I can't even explain how magnificent of a feeling jumping is. For a few precious seconds, both horse and rider are airborne. Both in sync (usually), flying through the air. Then the pull of gravity brings reality crashing back down. Rosie and I began jumping 6" cavaletties and ground poles. Now? We are flying over 2'6". I have always dreamed of jumping higher and higher, but the reality of actually jumping this high and succeeding is beyond words! I can't wait for this weekend. I have a good feeling about this show and Sunday just isn't coming fast enough!

A Life Lesson:
    So, today (Friday) hasn't been all that great of day anyway, but to make matters worse, I learned a life lesson....the painful way. This afternoon, Rosie and my lesson was supposed to start at 6:00 p.m. The time we actually started was 7:30 p.m. The reason, you ask? Well, since Gabbi acquired a trailer and I have had the luxury of not hauling my stuff back and forth, I have had to add another item to the mental checklist I run through before heading out to the barn. That item? Trailer keys. Let's just say I didn't run through my checklist all that thoroughly before heading out today.

   The story begins at 5:30 p.m. this afternoon. I am driving with my dad out to the barn. We are right on time and life is good. Its warm, sunny and there's a gentle breeze blowing through the open sunlit car. 20 minutes later, we reach the barn in good time and just as I am getting out of the car, I glance at the trailer and my lofty feeling suddenly drops and turns into the "Oh, shit" feeling. I turn to my dad sitting peacefully in the passenger seat and say,"I forgot the trailer keys..."

   Yah, that's right. I am 20 minutes from home, supposed to be getting ready for a lesson and the trailer containing ALL my tack is locked in the trailer. I desperately call Gabbi, hoping she might be my knight in shining armor. Nope, dear Gabbi was unavailable. So, with much moaning and groaning and cursing (on my behalf), I turn the car around and my dad and I head back home. Back at home, I race into the house, grab my keys and turn the car around and off we are again...back to the barn. Luckily in the midst of all this, I manage to remember to call Nancy and let her know I'll be a 'bit' late. Sure enough, the minute I pull out of the barn, guess who pulls in? Yup, Nancy. By the time I get back, Nancy has set up the jump course and made the rounds talking to other boarders at the barn. By the time I get Rosie tacked and ready, its 7:30 p.m. and dark outside. So, life lesson??? DON'T FORGET YOUR TRAILER KEYS!!

A Midnight Story:
    After our lesson, Nancy left and Rosie and I finally had time to ourselves. Of course it was dark outside, but we didn't care. I stripped off Rosie's tack, brushed and cooled her down and then we had a quiet moment just to ourselves. Rosie's content chewing on the apple I was holding/giving to her. She finished the apple and we meandered over to the hay loft. The full moon cast a spotlight around the hay barn and with Rosie ripping at the tightly bound hay bales, we basked in the friendly light. Rosie finally decided she wanted to rejoin her pasture buddies and so with a hug and a great big kiss I let her go. Now here comes the breathless part of the story. This part of the story is forever etched into my mind and heart. After I let Rosie loose, she turned tail and galloped towards the end of her pasture to rejoin her buddies. The moon was angled in such a way that I could just barely make out the pasture in front of me, but what was even cooler was that all the light colored things could be seen, almost eerie. As Rosie galloped off, she faded into the darkness. All that was left to indicate she had been there was her dust trail. Hanging suspended in the air, reflecting the moon light. When I could no longer see Rosie, I stood at the pasture gate and just listened. Rosie began a conversation with a few of the horses and then it became silent. I strained to see something, anything.
     And then I heard it. At first I thought it was thunder. But it became continuous. Louder and louder, heavier and heavier. Then I knew what it was.

Hoof beats...

  The horses were stampeding and I couldn't see them. They got closer and closer and I was soon able to see the fine dust being thrown up into the air by their hooves. Then...I saw them. It was like I was in a movie. When I could make them out, the moon half shone down on them, making them look like ghosts. They were finally at the front of the pasture and without slowing down they turned away from the fence, almost simultaneously, and with Rosie in the lead. The dust was the clearest thing you could see. It was illuminated by the moon and almost glittered. The horses broke the gallop and came down to a prancing trot and the stampede dispersed. With horses snorting, they began to return to normal except one. An adorable white Arabian, with tail raised, legs prancing and nostrils flared, proudly pranced near to where I was standing. I was standing behind a post and so I don't think he saw me, but I could be wrong. This split second was like I was the main character, the girl in Flicka looking up at the wild stallion. A silent, strung out moment where everything is paused, just for a second. Then the Arab decided he was done showing off and the moment passed as he rejoined the meandering herd.
    For a moment, all I could do was just stand there. I was afraid to breath. I watched until the dust settled and then glanced at the glowing moon. It shone gallantly. I then turned and walked back to the trailer and that was that. I will never forget that moment and I know almost for certain, that one day that scene will be reenacted on screen. Although no reenactment can portray that moment perfectly and has breathtaking as it was in that moment in time, it will come close!

A Glimpse of Heaven...

Although I don't necessarily believe that there is a Heaven, if there is one, it better have my girl in it!

Thanks to Gabbi for taking these amazing photos!

Perfect Memories

    Last Friday, Rosie and I had the most amazing lesson with Nancy. It was one of those lessons that you just can't forget. One of those moments that you can't plan for. With the sun streaming in through the open arena door, Rosie and I picked up an energetic trot. We battled out an "on-the-bit" war and slowly harmony began to sink in. Then, without warning, WHOOSH..... down went her head. A perfect arch, a graceful curve only the muscular neck of a horse can produce. The feeling was enormous. The reins were slack and we were together, as one, moving in perfect harmony.

     Nancy's voice speaks somewhere in the distance, "Alright, pick up the canter."

    My breath catches as I urge her into a canter to the left. The momentum increases and then, effortlessly, we are in a canter, but not just any canter. It's a canter that she nor I have ever ridden or produced. One so graceful and effortless that I had a hard time believing I was really riding Rosie. As we rounded the far end of the arena, the sun danced on Rosie's mane.

    "Circle over there."

    So we circle. Reins slack, foam at the mouth, Rosie and I dance along with the sun's games. As it plays through Rosie's mane, her mane wavers and flows at its touch. Its perfect.

    All too soon, we come back to the trot and then the walk. For a moment, everything was silent. Nancy nor I spoke, Rosie stood perfectly still, and everything was quiet. Then we all breathed, and life began once again. With great jubilation, a small smile spread across my face, soon accompanied by Nancy's. With great pride, I take in the compliments Nancy gives us. Rosie knows she did something good, as to what she did, she probably had no idea!

    After a thousand and one hugs and kisses and pats, we move on to jumping. Friday wasn't just a first for flatwork, it was also a day for our first ever gymanstic jumping line. To say the least, Rosie and I are addicted to them! Using small cavaletties at a 9 ft, 9ft, 18ft, 9 ft, 9ft. stride length, Rosie and I approached the first rail.

Bounce..Bounce..Stride...Bounce..Bounce

   We did it PERFECTLY! The lesson just kept getting better and better. I couldn't believe it!! We continued to jump the gymnastic line several times and from both directions. Soon thereafter, we added in some 2' verticals, which we had a few issues with, but none that couldn't be remedied. After jumping the gymnasticc line a few more times, we ended on an EXCELLENT note.

    Nancy left, and Rosie was given an enormous amount of praise and let back in to her pasture with kisses and pats and.... TREATS of course!

   Oh, what would life be without my horse???

It's A Trailer!!

      After more than a year of looking and waiting and dead ends, we finally have a trailer! Actually all the credit goes to Gabbi, who found it, owns it and is generously letting me share it with her. It's a 4 horse bumper pull slant load Charmac trailer. It has an amazing tack room with four saddle racks, a blanket bar, and a bazillion bridle hooks. Who could ask for a better trailer? I am so lucky to have such a wonderful and amazing friend!

Heart

      For the first time in my life, I was scared riding a horse. Never, ever in my entire life, did I once feel threatened, scared or nervous on horseback. Today changed all that.
      This 'event' isn't something that I can create into a story. I can't shave off the sharp edges and make it into a pretty picture. And I can't explain how this so called 'event' made me realize how much of my heart I had given to Rosie.

       Rosie ran off with me, and I could have lost my best friend. There, that's the story.

       In the fairy-tale story world, I would explain that on the way back to the barn Rosie suddenly realized we were headed back and began to gallop faster than anything we had ever galloped before. I'd explain that with all my might I tried to stop her but couldn't. I'd say that screaming profanity in my last attempt to keep my head clear worked. But that's the story world.

     The truth? Rosie did run off with me, and I couldn't get her to stop. But most importantly, I came too close to losing her. As Rosie stumbled in a gopher hole, as we were both launched forward, as the ground came frighteningly close, I realized that she meant the world to me and that if I lost her, I'd be a basket case and my heart would be so broken it could and would never be repaired.

     Only after finally coming to a stop did I let the tears and the reaction come. I slapped Rosie on the forehead and yelled, "What the hell was that?" I blamed it on anger as adrenaline and tears flowed through me. Then, as we were going through a gate, I really lost it. I don't even know what happened. Some how though, we knocked hard against the gate, Rosie reared and I jumped off and lost all self-preservation. I was screaming, and crying and punishing Rosie as if this was all her fault. I couldn't stop myself.

     As I walked back to the barn beside Rosie, I allowed myself to slow down. I attempted to clear my head and I realized that what I was feeling wasn't anger. It was something so pure that I couldn't come to terms with it, much less find a name for it. I realized that I had reacted because I had come inches away from losing my best friend.

    Every time I thought I got my feelings under control, Rosie would turn and look at me with a look I can't even explain. One that said, "I don't know what the hell is going on with you and I don't understand why I am being punished, but I think I still trust you." And no matter how hard I tried to keep myself under control I would cry all over again.

      I understood today, just how much Rosie means to me. I have given her my heart and slowly in exchange, she is giving me pieces of hers.

      This post really sucks, but I blame it on the fact that this isn't something I can convert or condense into text. All this came from the heart and honestly that's where it should stay. As Gabbi said, "If today is the worst its ever been, than you can count on tomorrow being better."

     I love Rosie with ALL my heart. She is my closest, dearest and best friend. She is the one who is always there. She's the one that shows me the world on her back...

And there is something to be said about that.
   

"I'm not angry, I'm just annoyed.

I came too close to losing you.

You really scared me today.

I don't think you realize how much you mean to me.

Actually, you probably mean too much to me.

You posses so much of my heart that there is hardly any room for anyone else,

And you may not be listening to me, but I know you've heard me,

And that's all that matters.

I love you with all my heart Rosie."

                                  ~A conversation I had with my Rosie