(“It brings back everything that you wish to forget.”)

Back when I wrote DRESSAGE Unscrambled, before it got published I submitted it to a handful of people whom I thought would be critical without pulling punches. One such friend observed that it lacked any mention of dealing with loss. Completely true. Why face it until it faces you, and in the false security of each generation’s self-perceived immortality, it’s not my problem. Let’s hope for a long time it’s not yours either.

Then from nowhere and without warning, death is in our presence. In this case it’s “only” a horse, as if that somehow matters less. But it matters as much as anything. Our identity is defined by our closest companions—sometimes it’s our dog or our horse. It’s whatever makes our interior self be whole.

When it’s someone else’s horse (if you are of a “certain” age), it can’t help but remind you of your own wrenching loss. It brings back everything that you wish to forget, but you know that to recognize another’s tragedy is to validate your own.

So it is that a student lost her horse this week. I saw them only two days ago, and I sent them off to their weekend competition with an expectation that they could clean house there. But a blown tire on the Interstate and a wreck spelled a shockingly abrupt end to a dream. Just like that.

Jody, his owner and rider, had been writing a humorous and low key blog over the past months describing their halting progress into the world of eventing. Together they had won their last two times out. This is her (their) last FaceBook post written in her horse’s voice:

Dear Diary, I am flying back to the homeland now, but this time I am doing it myself not in an airplane because I have wings! Black Bee-Yatch can never top this! There is my dam and the Man who took care of me when I was a colt. Maybe Owner will come and visit me. That would be ok but she should wait a long time because I want to be lazy and run around without working, and she won’t stand for that. And oh look, I’m a stallion again!! All is as it should be. You may not hear from me again because I’ll be busy with the fillies. Love,Vinnie.