Cosmo's bridle, on the wall of my room |
WARNING: This post has nothing to do with writing.
This week, I acknowledged the anniversary of my
Cosmo’s passing with a heavy heart. I’ve lost both my boys now – there will
always be horses in my life, but there was only one Cosmo, only one Skip. They
had four legs and they couldn’t talk and they were just horses, yes, I know I
always sound like one of those crazy animal people when I talk about them, but
those horses were a part of my growing up years. My life-shaping years. My
learning what it’s like to become a decent human being years.
Four years ago, on a chilly April night, I held
Cosmo’s massive head in my lap as the vet pumped that last drug into his veins.
I could feel the moment his heart stopped beating. Watched his eyes turn to
glass. And in that moment, a whole lot of things made perfect sense to me. There are variations on a similar saying floating around out there, but I can say with absolute certainty that: Everything I ever really needed to learn, I learned from my horses.
Be kind whenever you can
Tell someone to go to hell when you need to
Be honest
Be fair
Be loyal
Fight for something
Be patient when you’re teaching someone something
new
Let your respect be earned, don’t give it away for
nothing
Don’t be cocky
You don’t have to BE a man to stand up and take it
like a man
There are no princes and princesses
Falls happen
Sometimes you need to have your guard up
A good lead horse looks after his herd
Earn things, don’t expect them to be handed to you
Be the one who runs into the fire
Work hard, work hard, work hard…and then work harder
They gave me the strength to dig in my heels, to be
five-feet-one-inch of oh-hell-no-you-won’t. They helped me understand that
there are lots of people in this world who don’t care about you, don’t like
you…but that those people don’t matter: it’s the ones who love you who count.
It’s not the wind in your hair, it’s not freedom,
it’s not being taller, stronger, being in control…the most amazing part of
inviting horses into your life is coming to realize that these tall, strong,
powerful creatures, these grazers, are full of personality. Of life. It’s the
connection that’s important. The conversations without words. The quiet. The
peace. To know that you’re grounded in a world that’s concrete and real, and
that there’s more important things in
that world than you. A starving, half-dead, sickly horse named Cosmo showed me that there’s a difference between being broken and being defeated: broken things can be mended. Broken things can shine. And oh how he did shine.
A little red Quarter Horse with the cutest ears proved that being mediocre can be pretty special too.
Be happy, be content, indulge in a little sugar now and then. And don’t ever be afraid to be somebody’s happily ever after, even if it breaks your heart: horses give you the best years of their lives, and it’s our responsibility as their people to look after them in their golden years. My boys deserved to be loved until the day they died, and that’s what I did. The tears were worth it. So worth it.
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