03/30/2026
Blue.
You. Were. Magic. 💙
An unexpected gift that crept up on me sixteen years ago in the most unexpected way.
You were “just” supposed to be my pony horse while I chased a dream at the racetrack with close friends. One wise friend told me, “You’ll become closer to your pony horse than any of your other horses.”
I brushed this off. Youthful ignorance shone bright.
Blue, we spent hours together every day, in all types of weather—getting beat up by frisky racehorses, working under the lights on race nights, keeping everyone safe, and sleeping in your stall together between races. You worked so hard for me. You never sold out. Not once.
You were so solid, so safe, so extra special that I thought someone else should enjoy you—mountain riding, pleasure riding—while I stayed hyper-focused on competing and training young horses. I sold you after I moved on from the track.
Twice.
And twice, you found your way back to me.
Call it serendipity. Call it fate. I vowed never to let you go again. You proved to me your most important role was yet to come. And you were exactly where you needed to be.
When my mom—your grandma—got sick, who else could take her on her last rides? It had to be you.
When she was in hospice and too weak to ride, who trailered into the city for a visit so she could still get her equine fix? You. When she passed, who carried her remains to her final resting place? You.
Of course, you had already lived an incredible life before me—police riot control horse, experineced ranch horse, among so many other things. What couldn’t you do?
I’ve learned the answer: outwit time.
You weren’t impervious to it. I thought if anyone might be, it would be you.
I used to joke that you came to me sixty years too early—that you were the horse I wanted to swing a leg over when I was ninety. Now I know: you were right on time.
Blue, I love you with all that I am. You’ll always be on a pedestal, because that’s where you belong. Your quiet stoicism—your most defining trait—hid a depth few were allowed to see. You let me see it though. I’m honored to have been chosen - the most sacred gift was to know you fully.
I’ll miss your gregarious whinny whenever you saw me.
The way you walked to the gate to meet me.
The hugs and the secrets we shared.
You became my best friend when I thought I didn’t have room for another. I tried to keep you separate, compartmentalized from the rest of my horse world—how silly, when you were the glue that kept everything together, no matter what was needed.
I wonder if I’ll ever have another horse I can take out ba****ck with my coffee, just to stall starting the day. If I do, I’ll surely be reminded of you, and that the most impactful partnerships are so often the unexpected ones.
I love you, Pony. I wish you didn’t have to go.
