I lost one of my best friends almost a year ago. His picture hangs in multiple frames throughout my house. I see him when he was a beautiful leggy five year old, I see him standing proud with me beside multiple trophies and ribbons we won together, I see him getting on in age, I see him taking my oldest daughter for her first horse ride at eight months old.
He became my best friend when I was twelve, he was five. My Grandma found him at a horse sale. He was very thin, had sores on his body, and abscesses in all of his feet. He was a mess, but I looked into eyes that held such beauty. My Grandma is one who always sees beyond the brokenness in a horse. She see potential where most would see a slaughter horse. She is a visionary when it comes to horses.
My Mom bought him, and he came home with us to recover and bloom into a beautiful boy. He was a registered thoroughbred named Country Magic Man. He was off the racetrack and had won some money. Apparently not enough as he wound up in the shape he was in.
He was my barrel horse from age twleve to eighteen, then I stopped racing and he became my trail riding partner. Those were my college years, then I got married and became a mom, but he still took me for trail rides . By now he was 21 years old. He was slowing down considerably, had arthritis, and I was suspect he may have navicular.
We had been together sixteen years. We had grown up together. And then one cold day he layed down, and wouldn’t get back up. I covered him with blankets and held his head in my lap while I waited for our veterinarian to arrive.
His eyes showed so much pain. His eyes pleaded with me to let him go. And that’s what I did. I said goodbye that cold night. I said goodbye to the horse that raised me.
Today, nearly a year later, my three daughters, my husband and my mom and dad celebrated Christmas here on the HK Bar. I opened a present from my mom and dad. It was a horse hair bracelet. My mom said, “Its from your horse.”
I was puzzled, as I have a grey horse whose hair is grey with white. I held in my hand a bracelet with brown horse hair. “You mean Jo?” I said.
My Moms eyes welled up with tears and she said no,
My Mom called my husband Kevin after Magic passed away and had him cut part of his mane and tail. I had no idea. She then had it made into a bracelet and gave it to me.
I cried. Nearly a year after saying goodbye, I remembered. I remembered a horse that raised me, a horse that soaked up my teenage tears, a horse that carried me to several wins, a horse that loved me unconditionally, a horse that taught my oldest daughter to ride.
Magic you are remembered. I carry you with me always. In my thoughts and in my heart. I hope you are running in Gods green pastures of heaven.