From the time I was a 7 year old child, I had always wanted a horse. It
was on the top of the list for every birthday and Christmas. I couldn't
understand why Santa never brought me one. As I grew up and matured, I realized
that a back yard in the city was no place for a horse, but I decided that
when I settled down & married, it was going to be some place that I could
have a horse.
I was married over 10 years before I finally got there. I met Quincy through
a friend of mine in April of 2002. She had survived a terrible car
accident a few years prior that left her unable to ride. Her decision to
sell the horse was a terribly hard one. Quincey had been born and raised
on their farm. She was 10 years old at the time. I felt especially
privileged that she thought enough of me to allow me to buy her and
give her a new home with me.
Quincey was my dream come true. She was a big beautiful Palomino
15 hh Quarterhorse with big dark eyes that were like pools of chocolate that
you could get lost in. She was gentle, affectionate and ever so patient.
I was a green rider and so she was the one with all the experience. When
I took her out trail riding, she would look after me as though I were a baby
in a cradle. She was my best friend for the time that I had her and I loved
her with all my heart.
She would greet me with a whinie every morning on my way to work, and every
night when I got home. I used to slide home on my lunch hour now and again
and feed her carrots or apples. She was food for my soul. I cried
on her shoulder when I was sad, I told her all of my funny stories, and all
of my everyday troubles. She would listen intently with her ears pricked
forward or leaned backward depending on where I was standing grooming her.
She would turn and nuzzle me every now and again just to let me know she
was listening. Oh how I miss that.
In early December 2003, I left for work as usual. I received
a call from my husband shortly before noon. He called to tell me that Quincey
was down in the field and couldn't or wouldn't get up. He figured it was
colic and that our vet was on her way. I felt as though somebody had shoved
a knife through me. I immediately left and came home. When I arrived, the
vet told us that the prognosis was bad. She told us that there was nothing
that she could do for her and that the kindest thing that I could do was
put her to sleep. I sat down on the soaking wet ground and Quincey put her
head in my lap. She was groaning in so much pain and she looked so tired.
I sat there and held her head in my arms and I cried. I begged the vet ,
wasn't there something to do something to help her? I felt so helpless. She
said that her bowel had twisted and she was looking at a very painful death.
I looked at my Quincey and her eyes seemed to be pleading with me to do
something. Through my tears, I told the vet to go ahead and put her to sleep.
She slipped away very quietly in my arms about 5 minutes later.
I cried for weeks afterward, I missed her so much. All I could think
of was why Quincey, why hadn't I seen this coming sooner, was there something
else that I could have done. Had I made the right decision in putting her
to sleep. There were a thousand thoughts running through my mind.
I don't think you ever get over the loss of a friend like Quincey, you just
learn to live with it. A good friend of mine once told me that you have never
lived until you have experienced the love of a horse. And I agree.
Quincey,
I trust you to God.
You are sadly missed.
You will be forever in my Heart.
You were my first horse and my best friend.
Thank you for the memories that I will cherish the rest of my
life.
Shelley Foulem
Miss Speedy Quincey 
