Gone for 9 Years

How can you not love his knee high socks and sword blaze?

Back before I was crazy mare lady, I owned my first horse. A gelding named Booger (APHA Total Tenacity). I have mentioned him here and there on the blog, and quite frankly, I need to make him his own page so that people can view his sweet sword blazed face and laugh at my dorky 14 year old self.

One of his last pictures

It is hard to believe it has been 9 years since I last said goodbye to my handsome guy. He was so full of personality and willing to do whatever crazy plan I had set in store for him for that day. We play jousted with rings on posts, we tried polo (and got kicked out because he would body slam the other horses going for the ball), we trail rode through the sagebrush and chased rabbits as they would pop up on the trail. We even tried to jump a little bit and went to one horse show. He taught Blake that horses were, in fact, as cool as motorcycles.

3 year old Booger takes me for an adventure.

He was a great best friend when I had a rough day of bullying at school. He was there when my grandpa had to go through difficult surgeries. With his major wounds, he taught me how to care and medicate and hope and wish. He carried me away from thinking about my mom in prison or my dad out of work. He probably had the saltiest mane of all the horses at the barn thanks to my tears, but I don't think he cared.

Our hair matched.

9 years ago I got pulled into the office of my high school as soon as the bell rang. I learned that Booger had broken his leg and I desperately tried to get a hold of my dad so I could get excused from school to go see him. I swerved and stepped on the gas pedal, eyes hot with rolling tears. I met with the vet who gave me the saddest face and spilled out the grim news. Blake was called from his school and he was already there, arms wrapped around my stoic horse's neck. Booger dripped with sweat and placed some of his weight into my arms as I hugged him tight and told him I loved him and that it would be ok. His right front leg spun away independently from his knee the one time I looked down at it. His other leg was beginning to buckle and I was pulled away. He tried to follow me as I walked away, scared and confused. Sometimes I wish I would have stayed with him, but I don't know if my heart could have taken seeing him fall to the ground.

A dirty Blake in a Slipknot shirt kissing a pony. 

That day was one of the worst I had ever experienced. Blake stayed with me and cried with me. I am glad that I had him when I had no else with me in Idaho. He later went out and cut some of Boog's mane and tail for me. He told me he looked just like regular Booger, but tears filled his eyes again. I still have his mane and tail in my fireproof box, locked away with pictures of my grandpa. It still smells just like him. I am not sure what to do with it, but some day hope to have something made. I was so lucky to have him in my life, especially when I did, and I still smile when I think about his cute little face!

I miss you so much, my friend