Emmie Lou  

Dapple gray Percheron
13 years old
1999 - August 1, 2012

Dear Emmie,

I remember the first day you arrived at the house.  A huge semi-truck was at the end of our driveway to meet me. It took a month of planning to get you to your new home, but we managed and you arrived and out you walked with those big brown eyes. You had everyone you met bewitched. The shipping company called and told me that you would be arriving on Tuesday, a little longer than we thought but they wanted you to stay the weekend in Colorado so you wouldn't be too stressed out. You were also supposed to be in the back because of your size. But here you arrive and out you walked from the front of the truck and they even gave you an extra large stall so you would be more comfortable. You were spoiled from the get go. Your eyes would melt butter and no one can seem to say no to you.

You started testing your boundaries to see how and what you could get away with but you turned into our little social butterfly. You had friends up and down the street and no fence was going to stop you when you wanted to visit. You learned early that those dinner plate size feet can take care of most fences you wanted to get over. The only good thing is you learned to come when I called, it might sound like a herd of elephants coming but you always managed to stop without running me over. Everyone in the area was just amazed at you on how sad you can look following me home after you were caught visiting with the other horses. But after a couple of times it was like you just gave a nicker and said, "Gotta run, mom's calling." and up the road you came and then followed me the rest of the way home. There was no need for a lead rope, you knew where you lived.

You amazed so many people! Our instructor that one weekend couldn't believe you'd never done rollback until that day. Also, the look on the farrier's face that day he arrived and you decided that the round pen wasn't going to stop you from going elsewhere.

You were supposed of been my forever horse. I was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer two months before you arrived. It started out that I had two years without treatment and maybe four years with. But then you came into my life and I didn't want to leave you after only two years so I had the treatment and we had amazing rides, 9 wonderful years together. It should have been a lot more, the plan was that I was supposed to go before you, not the other way around.

That morning has been playing in my head over and over, what could I have done different, why didn't I go out earlier. The vet said that there wasn't anything we could have done even if we came out earlier, but that doesn't make it any better. He said you had an aneurysm.  I had to let you go and by the time we said good bye everyone that was there that day helping, was all in tears.

I hope you really know that you are loved and missed very, very much. The horses down the street bellowed for hours that night we buried you. The dogs holler uncontrollably, the goats don’t even go in your side of the pasture. You are missed by everyone and everything your heart touched.

To this day I look for you in the field but you are not there. Your brush still has hair in it from you last brushing, your stall is just they way you left it. The dust is now piling up on your saddle and for some strange reason the goats haven't even tired knocking it off the shelf like they used to. None of the other animals have botherd anything of yours, which is strange all on it own.

Now I can go on and on about how wonderful you were but all I really want you to know is that I love you then and I love and miss you so very, very much now.

Until we are together again, your heartbroken mom,

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