| Right now I feel as if my world has come tumbling down. My best teacher is gone. If it weren't for my other horse, I'd tear my room apart, and rip down all my posters and drawings of horses. I wish he were still mine, because this wouldn't of happened. I had only known him for two years, but it felt as if we had been together forever. I remember the first time I saw him, he was a stallion then. My mother had taken us to horse show in Stetson. It was the first I ever saw. He was the most beautiful bay I had ever seen, he had a bronze plume to his coat, and heavy muscling under his healthy skin, rippling in the August sun. I wanted him so badly, but at that point I never thought it would be possible. But on my eleventh birthday my mother surprised me with a bill of sale stating his name clearly." Whiskey and Willie are sold to Karen Poulin by Mark Merril." I couldn't contain my excitment. The next day I skipped school and we went on a trail ride. Whiskey was bursting with energy built up over the winter, but he minded me. He had so much try and heart. He was the type of horse where if you knew how to treat him would still go for you even if he only had three legs. We spent two happy years together trail riding, pole bending, barrel racing, and taking lovely bareback rides in the pastures. He always minded me and was literally bomb proof. He never listened to anyone else so well. His previous owner regreted selling him after I started taking care of him. He said Whiskey looked better than he ever did when he owned him, and he owned him from when he was five, and he was eighteen when we bought him. I loved him so much. In August of 2001 we had to sell him due to money problems. He went to a woman named Regina. He was content at first but then his head and back began to sag more. His coat became unkempt, and the fire was gone from his eye. I hated seeing him like that. I have to admit the woman made it look like Whiskey was happier than he actually was...not happy at all. His ears never perked forward like they used to, only sagged to the sides. Just today, on Friday 25, 2002, I went up to the local American Legion to get the post office keys from my mother to send a money order to Marie Budy for a pinto stablemate Paso Fino mare, my mother told me. I told her about the little Paso, I described it as looking like a little Whiskey with pinto markings and this odd look came across her face. I thought nothing of it until she told me. She stopped me on my way out and said she needed to talk to me. I just figured I was in trouble as usual. But when she mentioned if I wanted to know now or later I knew something was wrong. I said now and we sat down together with my friend Helen along side. "Whiskey died today. It was from either liver or kidney failure....Don't worry, he didn't suffer, it was quick." My mind and body froze and my lips quivered. I stared at the table for what felt like hours. I stood up and left. I was silent all the way over to the post office with Helen. I haven't cried yet, I can't, it's as if my mind can't handle it. Mooney seemed to understand tonight. She was quiet and nuzzled me and listened well as I rode her bareback in the arena. She's the only one who has comforted me so far. My mother went out and drank, like always when something bad happens. She seems to think she can drink away pain. She has no clue the pain I am going through, she wasn't the one Whiskey loped up to or winnied for, or the one who was his pupil. Whiskey taught me how to live, how to live for a horse. Fare well old friend, at least you graze in more vast and greener pastures than here in the mortal world. I miss and love you with all my heart. Thank you for teaching me, and letting me in to a better way to live. Thank you for teaching me to listen to what a horse has to say. Rest in peace Buttknick, I'll see you in the spirit world again some day with Mooney and Shasta along side. |
| In Memory of Whiskey |
| Our Companions Wake A source of everlasting love, No matter what may come. Whether here on mortal earth, Or somewhere up above. Here we are together, Lost in our own adventure. Choosing trails at random, Whether of fur or feather. Human's constant guide, And source of inspiration. Honesty a must, Nothing here to hide. But there is a time to leave, Even though we reunite. When it does come, We always miss and grieve. We look forward to the day, Where we all meet up again. Our love giving us the patience, To make it all this way. -Elaine Estelle Poulin |