Mishie...My friend, my teacher, my heart.
I have loved horses my
whole life. As a little girl, every birthday wish, every
shooting star, every penny in the fountain found me praying the same
prayer. Please God, I need to have a pony. But alas, my parents didn't
understand my passion and always said that it was too expensive. I instead
read every Farley book that I could get my hands on, and made myself a pest
at any stable that held a promise of touching a velvet nose.
Marriage came at an early
age and babies quickly followed, and the desire was pushed down, but always
there, waiting. In the winter of 1984, my sweet husband came home from work
with an amazing gift. As a Valentine's Day present, he had bought me
a horse from a friend at work. He didn't care that we couldn't afford
her, he said that we would find a way. Mishie became mine that day. I think
I hyperventilated at the excitement. He had brought her saddle home with
him just so I would know that it was the real deal. I still remember
bringing that filthy thing into my living room and lovingly washing away
years of grime until it shone. The smell of that leather was like a heady
perfume. We contacted the local boarding stable and made arrangements to
pick up Mishie to go to her new home. I had yet to even see her. When we
arrived at the barn, I was greeted by this skinny, flea bitten gray horse,
mane caked with mud and as wild a horse as I had ever seen! I had a fleeting
thought of, "Oh no, I'm in trouble", but I pushed it aside and fell in
love. She reared and squealed, but we got her loaded and our life
together began.
Mishie's personality was
so unique. Unlike her first wild exhibition, she was totally ground safe
and loved to be brushed and fussed over and I loved doing it. She turned
out to be quite a people horse, always over your shoulder, trying to see
what you were doing. She was always knocking things off of counters, turning
over wheelbarrows and playfully shoving her "people". Everyone told us that
we shouldn't let her do that, but to us, it was quite endearing. One of my
favorite memories is of my husband and I riding in the woods and he
had dismounted to "water a tree". Mishie put her nose in his back and gave
a little push...midstream. We laughed so hard that we cried! Mishie also
turned out to be awesome to ride. She had a choppy little trot, but
oh that canter! She was so attuned to me that the slightest cue
would bring a response, and she was so fast! She loved to barrel race and
flat out run, but would get so worked up, that the rest of the ride would
be jigging and hopping. She also loved to jump. When riding in the forest,
if she saw a felled log ahead, she would perk up, ears forward and declare
her desire. I usually let her go and we would fly over. Years later, I would
learn that my 12 year old jumped her 5 feet, just to impress her friends!
Yikes!
The years passed and Mishie
was our strong, steady rock. We bought a place in the country and brought
her home, bringing Satin home as well. As arthritis set in, I rode Mishie
less and less, not wanting to cause her any pain. She remained in great health,
for the exception of her joints and continued to be the love of our lives.
She was a great mom to Satin and watched over her with care. The last year
of Mishie's life, she began to get down and could not get up without help.
We stayed close to home, always worrying that if she went down, we wouldn't
be there to help her. Each time we would struggle, cry, beg her to try again
and finally she would be up, shake herself and walk off the stiffness. On
that last cold March morning, we found her in the stall, probably had been
down most of the night. She was cold and uncomfortable. We worked for two
hours to get her up and she just couldn't try anymore. We called in
reinforcements and still could not get her up. It was then I noticed that
her eyes were moving side to side rapidly and I knew that she had probably
had a stroke. We called our horse vet and got no response, so I dialed my
beloved small animal veterinarian and he was there in record time, still
in his suit from church. I held her head in my lap and whispered words of
love, my heart breaking as she slipped away into freedom.
Mishie, I love you so much.
I feel you close at times, hear the leaves rustle and still, after two years,
will find bits of your hair, now white from age floating in gentle breezes.
I like to think that you send them sailing just to remind us that you are
still close. When my time comes, I'm going to look for you. I'll grab your
mane and leap up on your bare back, just like I used to, and you will take
me home. Until I see you again, run free my girl.
Love you forever,
Paulette (Mom)
Mishie 
