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April 11, 2014

memoirs

           Four years ago (on my 13th birthday), I got the best present a young girl could ask for—a retired quarter horse with soft eyes and a dirty white muzzle. His registered name is JT Santo Peppy though everybody calls him “Tex”. In addition to that, I give him endearing nicknames such as Texy Boy, My Old Man, Pretty Horsey,  JT, etc. He puts up with it fairly well as long as I give him plentiful amounts of apple treats.

 
Legend has it that Tex was a team penning champion—a cow horse that expertly cuts calves from the herd and drives them into certain paddocks. Whether or not he was really a champion, I childishly wondered what stories he could tell from his vast 20 years of experience.
 

 
Our friendship was special. I would ride him bareback and play that I was John Wayne riding through the west, or a contestant in a quarter-mile race. He would follow me around like a great big puppy while I did my chores. If I was going through a rough time I would throw my arms around Tex’s neck and pour out all my emotions into his mane. It felt good to have something solid I could hold onto. I know from personal experience why people say that horses are therapeutic for the human soul.
“The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man.” (Girls too.) –Winston Churchill
 

 
JT knew every trick in the book. Luckily, he was usually too lazy to try any of them, but occasionally he would blow out his stomach so I couldn’t tighten the cinch or pretend to limp when he didn’t want to work. He’d eat the corn stalks out of the garden, rub on Dad’s trees, chase my dog (scaring her half to death), and crib in his stall, leaving huge chew marks in the wood.
 
To make up for his shortcomings Tex had a special trick that I taught him at one point: whenever he saw I had a treat he’d bob his head up and down eagerly. 
            “Do you want a treat?"
*Tex bobs head yes.*
            “Am I your favorite person in the whole world?”
*Tex bobs head yes.*
            “Are you going to stay out of the garden from now on?”
*Tex bobs head yes.* 


Tex helped me grow as a person—something not just anyone can do for you. During 2011 Tex had three hoof abscesses in a row. Getting rid of them involved soaking his hoof twice a day and wrapping it in a baby diaper held on with gobs of duct tape. I hated it-- it gave me a sore back and took up too much time, but it taught me patience.
During the winter months, I had to carry horse jugs down to him twice a day to keep him hydrated. I hated that too, but it developed my perseverance (and some impressive biceps) 
Lastly, (this-is-going-to-sound-sappy-but-it-is-ever-so-true) Tex taught me how to be a friend and the importance of always being there for someone
 
 
So here’s why I am writing all of this. Exactly four years after Tex came to me, I am sending him to a new home. We are moving to the big city so I must part with my equine friend forever. :’(  He will have a cute little mare to keep company with and his own box stall to sleep in but I won’t have him to talk to or go for walks with. Good-bye sweet friend!
 

 

3 comments:

  1. Sad to see him go :( Glad he's found such a nice set up to move to though. Beautiful photos and nice tribute. It brought vivid memories back of my days (and parting) with Chinook. Amazing how much we can bond with our horses, especially with our first "love". Especially when we have to lug buckets of water to them. Every day. For multiple years. Especially through high school when that horsey therapy can be invaluable. Though it won't be the same, you can come hug our horses any time. Samson has a nice mane to bury your face into :)

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  2. I knew you could relate! Thanks for the offer-- I will definitely take you up on that and come hug Samson periodically.

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  3. Aw, wow. That was beautiful. I know how close you can get to animals, and losing one, one way or another, can be really hard. :'( So sorry.

    Your friend,
    Erica

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