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STORY #1
- August 3, 2003
Submitted
by lizaboo13
This
is a very beautiful story dedicated to a wonderful gelding
named Woody. Please take the time to read it...
It was the
day before my last horse show of the year, and I was
excited. My 14 year old gelding and I were to be showing in
several different events, and I wanted to make this last
show special. I had carefully banded his mane, braided his
tail, and polished his chestnut coat to an absolute shine.
He looked his best-his gorgeous liver chestnut coat
gleaming, and his big brown eyes inquisitive and caring as
they always were.
The day of the show came, and I was up at 5:30 to make it to
the fairgrounds in time, and get my gelding warmed up for
the day of intense competition. I was full of anticipation.
It was that morning when the first pangs of a stomach
disease began to appear. I didn’t know what to do. When it
came time to leave for the show, no medicines had helped,
and I was unable to do anything but head for the doctor. I
would be missing the show that I had been working on all
year.
It was mid-afternoon, and the show was nearly over, when I
returned to the barns, with new medicine and an overwhelming
sadness. I had let my gelding down. There was nothing that
he loved more than showing. As soon as I appeared in the
barn he greeted me with his usual whinny of recognition, and
as I fed him, he continually was glancing out at the arena
where my friends and their horses were competing. The look
that he gave me was unmistakable-“Why aren’t we out
there?”
After the class had ended, my friends, the majority of which
were done for the day, saw me and walked over to visit. A
cake of celebration for the day, brought by one of my
friend’s parents, was put on a cooler. I thought I was
going to burst into tears as I saw them all talking about
the fun and experiences that they had during the show. The
doctor’s diagnosis was an incurable stomach condition. To
add insult to injury, they said that I wasn’t allowed to
have any more sugars-which met that I couldn’t share the
cake that I had just received a dish of. Setting it down on
the chair that was underneath my gelding’s stall, I went
for a drink of water. I hadn’t gotten very far when I
heard a strange scratching sound, and shrieks of laughter.
My gelding had managed to reach the cake. In one gulp he had
finished it, but as an end result he had cake frosting
spread across his lips. He was continuingly twitching them
trying to lick the frosting off, but try as he might, the
frosting stuck on. Finally he peeled back his lips, and
managed to get some of it off with his tongue. However, in
the process, he had smeared the white frosting onto his face
and he looked like he was wearing some type of bizarre
mustache. Now I can guarantee that horse shows can be a very
stress filled time for everyone involved, and it can be
difficult to get a smile out of anyone. Everybody, at least
20 people, were laughing, many until tears streamed down
their faces. Even I couldn’t stop laughing, despite how
upset I was. Finally I managed to clean it off with a
napkin.
From them on, nobody that had saw the incident could forget.
Everybody was talking about the “horse with a frosting
mustache”. Soon, my stomach disease was under control and
I was able to continue riding. Both I and my gelding were
eagerly anticipating the next show season. That time would
never come.
Star City Seeker also know as Woody, died from complications
of the West Nile Virus on August 23, 2002. After 48 hours of
intensive treatments, it was decided to release him from his
pain, and let him move on to a better place.
The last memory that I had of Woody was when we had brought
out a friend’s mentally disabled cousin to meet him. Woody
loved children move than anything, yet he somehow could
sense that this little boy was different. Intimidated by
Woody’s size, as many children could be, he was afraid and
he wanted to go back to his parents. As carefully as he
could, Woody took a few careful steps backwards, and than
gentle lowered his head down to the boy’s eye level, and
gazed at him with the quizzical expression that he always
gave people. With his parent’s guidance, I gave the little
boy a tiny piece of apple of which he held in his
outstretched palm. Carefully and gentle Woody took the treat
from the tiny hand, chewed it softly, than poked his muzzle
as far through the bars as he could so that the little boy
could gentle pet him on his forehead. The huge smile that
lit upon that little boy’s face was one that I will
cherish in my memory forever.
THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO WOODY-THE BIGGEST HEARTED, GENTLE
GIANT THAT I’VE EVER KNOWN. |
