Calypso was something special,
something unique. I knew it the minute I saw her at the auction. Her brilliant
gold color, I thought, would attract some buyer's attention. I didn't listen
to her breed, whether she had papers, how old she was or even that she was
a mare. Someone would buy her. She was too pretty to not take
home.
But nobody bid on her. Her
price dropped lower and lower, until the Killers started to bid. A single
bid. I knew him. I didn't know her, but I knew him, and where he would take
her. So I put in my bid. Another bid. And I followed with another. And the
gavel came down and she was mine. I didn't know that she was a mare, or that
she did have quarter horse papers...I didn't know that she'd been a mom of
two and wasn't broke to ride until just before I bought her, as a 12 year
old. I just knew I had just saved the life of a brilliant, gold
horse.
Caly loved everyone. She
had so much energy and was so full of life. She was openly social and got
along with any horse in the world. She loved foals. She was best friends
with every mare, and all the geldings were in love with her. She was brilliant,
blond, beautiful.
There was no way to know
that she was born with a hole in her diaphragm, almost 15 years ago. Her
death was fast, and I didn't have to make the decision. But it came too
soon.
There is nothing I would
trade to give up my memories of Calypso. The most important and wonderful
aspects of living is the ability to love and be loved. Calypso gave me an
opportunity for both.
I love you, Caly
gal.
Kari Newman
Calypso 
