Sunday, July 29, 2007

Barbaro: In Our Hearts Forever

Run free dark enchanted horse . . . 

Your mane ripples like ocean foam as you dance with your partner,
the wind, in her loving embrace.

She is your mystical partner with whom you are forever intertwined . . . 

lifting you aloft in joyful flight . . . 

And we, the humans who love you so deeply soar with your spirit  . . . 

You bring us to heights of deep admiration and awe.

There still is something so special about you that words cannot express.
It is the feeling . . . that you engender in us, presented by your majesty,
your courage and your lightening speed that was rhythmical perfection.

Perhaps you mirrored back to us something that we have forgotten in ourselves . . .
so that we could remember. . .

You were much too young to leave  . . .
too full of spirit filled with a thirst for life that will remain unquenched.  
God must have needed you more than we ...
He lives within you. . .

We remember you . . .  we love you . . . we miss you. . .

Your hoof prints glow eternally in our hearts.

7/29/07 by:  Jo O'Brien- Singer

Barbaro: The Legend by Phutc7274: Stunning Video

Sunday, July 15, 2007

My beloved horse - the end of a love affair -For Sandy

My heart is heavy as I post this entry, and at the same time I feel that Sandy's final great gift of love for her horse, Cyd, is one of compassion and personal sacrifice. I pray that Sandy heals as Cyd enters into her heart for all eternity.

Jo

The letter below was written by a wonderful woman in a horse rescue
group in CT. Many of us have been where she is right now, and most of
us will be at some point in our lives. Our hearts go out to Sandy.

On Wednesday morning, I'm ending a long love affair between myself
and a handsome brown-eyed guy. He's 29 years old and blind. He is my horse.

I retired him years ago, when it became evident that he was
loosing his eyesight. He became dangerous to ride. He was scared.

In the beginning he was untrusting and difficult. He exasperated me.
I can't explain why, but he touched me somewhere deep inside and I
just couldn't give up on him. He scared me too. He broke my leg the
3rd day I owned him, He refused to be caught to go inside at night,
making me walk behind him for an hour before turning and lowering his
head to be haltered. He was afraid if I had on a hat or raincoat. I
persevered. He kept testing me. I kept testing him. He was afraid
of deer, turkeys and bikes. Together we learned not to be afraid of them.

We learned dressage. He was much better at it than I. He and I grew
from inside. I knew what he needed before I even thought about it.
And he seemed to find greatness in being able to communicate his
thoughts and needs to me.

He loved his blankets and grooming time He loved to make noise. It
was either banging his foot on the oak stall door or raking his teeth
over the grill on the front of his stall. He always peeked afterward
to see if he was getting your attention. He could float on air it
seemed when he moved, and he knew it.

It brought him pleasure to have people stop and watch him.
He overcame his fear of trailers,
raincoats, hats and such with time. He gave lessons to many and each
and every one of those people were in love too. He became a favorite.

He made me many friends, one who leased him for a long while. She
will be with him on Wednesday when he trades his feet in for wings.
She will be in my soul forever. I am thankful our paths crossed. He
loved oranges. He would hold his lips in a pouch so not to loose a
drop of juice. He was known to take whatever was in your hand and eat
it, usually by surprise, a baloney sandwich an ice cream cone and was
even caught eating cigarette butts from the ground.

He had a 20th birthday party, complete with horsie cake and people
cake, He wore a black bow tie, and entertained 30 or more people and
horses. He opened his own gifts.

There are marks in my barn that will stay there that he made. There
are marks in my soul that are forever.

My grief is profound and unbearable at this moment. My heart feels as
if it's bleeding. My jaw hurts from crying and my eyes are puffy and
red, my hair hurts. And I'm sick to my stomach. But I know there's
nothing else I can do but release him. I can no longer keep him safe
and not scared anymore. He's a flight animal and he can't see anymore.

I have exhausted all my options. I hate that I don't have a magic
wand or the power to give him back his sight. I hate making the phone
call, setting up the burial, and waiting. I hate all of this.

But I love him, and I'm the one hurting. I'm told he won't feel a
thing, I believe that. I'm told he will go somewhere beautiful. I
believe that too. I know he won't be scared anymore, I know he won't
have any pain.

I have seen him thru colics, stitches, lamenesses, and terrors. He
has taught me a lot. For without him, I wouldn't understand patience,
compassion, empathy, friendship - and incomprehensible love, undying
and unconditional.

For his life I am grateful, for his death I am grateful. I write this
so that others know he lived, and that they know our love. I write
this so that you hug your horses tonight and every night. Grasp every
second and breath in their essence, for someday you will be me, right
now, right this second, Ending a Love Affair.

I ask that on Wednesday morning you say a prayer for my beloved Cyd,
that he have a peaceful death, and a swift journey to the Rainbow
Bridge, Light a candle if you're not the praying kind.

Please cross post my letter to as many as you choose. I would love as
many prayers as possible.

For now I grieve the loss of a dear, dear friend. I will have
memories and I know that someday they will comfort me, but right now,
right this second, I'm lost in my grief.

God Speed my dear, dear friend. I pray that we will really meet
again. Please be waiting. . . . .

Sandy

Please light a candle for Cyd and Sandy:*CYD* Candles - Light A Candle