My horse's name was Masada. I received him when I was eight, and he was
already old. I had dreamed for so long of owning a horse, that in my eyes
he was a muscular show horse. My mom taught a preschool in our house at the
time, and so I was the weekly pony ride giver. The little kids nick-named
him Sawdust.
Masada was an Arabian. His
arched neck and high-held tail filled my dreams. His date of birth was never
known, but his date of death was Christmas Eve of 2000. He died from colic
and grain overload, which he received after he opened his stall and opened
the feed room. He stayed alive all night, and my family and I slept out with
him in the mud all night. The next day, I was forced to school. My mom and
dad stayed to look over Masada, and he died while I was away.
I am now thirteen, and have not yet been able to own another horse, although
the option has been presented to me several times. I decided to look for
a loss support site and found this wonderful site. Masada remains in my heart
at all times, and he inspired me to write this poem about the night of his
death.
I Knew That You'd Remember
Me Always
I sit here on my bed,
thinking about the poem that I just read,
that reminded me so much about you.
I think of that cold
night,
that hard-to-win fight,
that despite our efforts, we lost.
My tears I barely hid,
as I talked with you,
of all the fun things we did,
and how I'd never forget them.
I remember I told you,
I still had your horseshoe,
in my room,
hanging over my door.
And when I said good
bye,
you acted kind of shy,
for the sickness had made you forget me.
But I knew deep down
inside,
where sweet memories hide,
I knew you'd remember me always.
Masada 