Mr. Pie






Coco Joe Pepper

Quarter horse

Mr. Pie was 29 years old at the time of his death on March 17, 2008

What a handsome boy you were! You gleamed like a new copper penny in the sunlight and had that massive quarter horse build. Although we came together under strained circumstances, you eventually won me over.

You were two and I was twelve. I wanted a show horse and you wanted to run and play. You ignored every attempt the trainer and I made to mold you into a western pleasure horse. You had too much fire for that and so I finally gave up trying to make you into something you didn't want to be and I instead followed you on a path I had never been down before. I was disappointed I wouldn't have a show horse, but you taught me to be true to myself.

Oh how you loved to run. I can remember the first time I let you run full speed. I had never been on a horse as fast as you as I was only a child myself. When I pulled you up, I had tears streaming down my face from the force of the air. You loved to match race and you were good at it, who would have thought some little girl riding bareback could have beat them at their own game.

Over the years you were best at doing things I never imagined we would be doing. Your stops and spins were phenomenal, you carried me through countless queens runs and grand entries, and you were never allowed in the pasture with the cows because you would work them until they were out of breath.

It's strange looking back at our time together as we have been through so much. I remember the time Gramp tied you out with a nylon rope. You panicked and when I came home I was sick at the sight of burn on your fetlock. The veterinarian said I would have to clean your leg every day, along with wrapping it and giving you injections...but I'm just a little girl! I would go out to give you your injection and I would spend thirty minutes crying first because I was afraid I would hurt you. The whole time I was crying, you were just standing there waiting to have your bandage changed and get your shot...patience, you had lots of patience.

I think my grandfather and mother must have thought I was crazy the year you got really sick. I thought I would lose you and I had our priest come out and bless you with holy water. I left my rosary in your stall and prayed for you to get better. You surprised everyone and pulled through after staying in intensive care for two weeks. I thought I would lose you again the day it snowed so bad and you had a case of colic. The thirty mile drive in the deep snow to the surgery center and watching them untwist your intestines through the window is one night I will most likely never forget. I remember my mom on the phone to Gramp borrowing money so you could have the surgery that would hopefully save your life. Four days later, you came home and made my life miserable with your antics of bucking and rearing in the stall, as I was supposed to keep you calm.

You were there for me the day that Gramp died and I sat in the corner of the stall and cried. And you were there for the months that followed when I would cry myself to sleep on the floor of the stall....you gave me unconditional love.

At some point in your late teens, you developed arthritis in your shoulder, probably from the cow work and I decided that you should just enjoy life. You loved "your horse", Skipper. From the day I brought him home, it was not a match made in heaven, but you two were inseparable for the twenty five years you spent together. I loved to watch you two play-fight, you would bite him and he would take off after you running through the yard. My mom was sure one of you would come through the sliding door one day but you never did. I loved to watch you two groom each other when you thought no one was looking and sun bathe side by side.

The hardest decision of my life was to let you go.

I miss you, Mr. Pie. I miss the way you slurped when you ate apples, how you would play with Crash over the fence even though everyone else thought he was just an obnoxious colt, and how you rubbed your head on me even though you weren't supposed to. I miss your smell, the feel of your muzzle in my hands, and your breath on my face.

I would like to tell you one last time how much I loved you! I am grateful for all the things you have given me and for all the times you were there for me. For the last twenty-seven years you taught me patience, gave me unconditional love, and kept all of my secrets . You were a safe place for me to run to when I needed comfort. You made my good days better and my bad days bearable. On more than one occasion you gave me the ride of my dreams and taught me that life is something to be treasured. Your resilience and zest for life is a quality that I will always appreciate. Thank you for all the wonderful lessons, the memories, and for enriching my life...but most of all, thank you for being my friend. Mama loves you.

June














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