It’s amazing how a horse can touch your heart and the loss of him can also break it.
When I first met you, Diablo, 8 ½ years ago, you were not the horse that I really wanted. You were only 3 ½ years old and green broke. I was looking for a horse that I could just saddle up for an easy trail ride. However, after you arrived and we bonded, you became the perfect horse for me. I told everyone that you were the horse version of me because we were very much alike. We were both very nervous, sweat a lot, and liked to eat. We were the perfect match.
We put in a lot of hours together on many trail rides and I was always proud to ride you. As the years passed, we made many trail friends that I am now going to have to tell that you are no longer with me. Most trail rides that we went on people would see you before me, but because you were my special horse and friend they would know I was around.
I was forever looking through catalogs and shopping for things for you. Of course, if I bought something for you, I also had to buy something for your “sister”, Sunny. I am sure she is already missing you and will especially miss greeting us when we return from our trail rides.
After my heart attack, experiencing depression, and then being told that I could not ride you for three months, I did not think anything could lift me up. Coming to the barn, seeing you, and grooming you helped me rise out of my depression. When I was finally able to ride you, our first outing was the Heart Association Beach Ride. How ironic? Although we had done many Heart Association Beach Rides before, the 2006 ride seemed more important because I had just survived my own heart attack. You helped me tremendously and these last three years of riding and spending time with you gave great meaning to my life. It has only been a couple of days since your passing, and I am truly feeling lost without you. To help myself through this I will remember the happy times we spent together.
The greatest emotion is laughter through tears, so here is one of the funniest memories I have of you. We were on our way to a trail ride at Lakeview Plantation in a convoy of about 7 trucks with horse trailers in tow. As usual, knowing our sense of direction, we were the leaders of the convoy. We tried to keep at least a car length between each trailer as we were driving along. Along came an impatient driver in a convertible who did not want to follow all of the trailers, so he pulled in right behind us. As I said before, you were the horse version of me. I would have liked to have given him the finger, and you gave him the horse equivalent of it. You picked up your tail and dumped away right into his open convertible. I don't think he will ever follow behind a horse trailer again. Oh well, I guess “Stuff” happens.
Diablo, you were a big part of my life, losing you; our trail and beach rides, and the special times we spent together will leave a great void. I will never have another horse like you. The memories we shared will carry me though until we meet again on the other side.
Love,
Bob
Diablo 
