01/01/2026
I knew that a year like this was coming. Especially with the large number of aging seniors we have here. But it doesn't make it any easier. In 2025, 6 of our horses crossed the rainbow bridge. All were beautiful souls who are very deeply missed.
Nugget
One of our farm horses. She always walked with a purpose. She had a gentle demeanor and eyes that could look into your soul. And when I looked into her eyes, I felt like a part of my first horse, DeeDee was looking back at me. Losing her was like losing my first horse all over again. Life had gotten crazy and I had stopped riding her a few years ago due to lack of time and ability to be consistent. She really is the last horse I had a true bond with. She is now back with her "sister" CandyCane.
Rocky
One of our first boarded horses. He was with us for 18-19 years. He was such a sweet, easy going guy. He had some scars that implied some not-so-nice treatment in his past life, but he didn't hold it against us. A beautiful, golden boy.
Deuce
A boarders horse. He had the most beautiful eyes, another one that could look right into your soul. Not a mean bone in his body. Always careful and thoughtful around people. And other horses too, even if they weren't as thoughtful to him.
Dante
Another of our farm horses, though honestly, he truly belonged to one of our long time students, Rachel. They had a beautiful bond, and they helped each other through so many things. They built each other's confidence. He really was a one person horse, and she was his person. They learned so much from each other and had come such a long way.
Rezi
A boarders horse, a roany pony, who had been here for about 17 years. At certain times of the year, and in the right light, she looked purple. And she had just as vibrant of a personality to go with her purple coat. If you were taking too long getting the grain from the feed room, she would let you know with a few hoof bangs to her door.
Casey
Another boarded horse, our most recent loss. He crossed the rainbow bridge last night. He was one of our senior seniors, at 32 years old. He would know that his grain was soaking in the bathroom and would nag you with nickers everytime you walked near it. He knew when it had been soaking long enough too. And would let you know it. The barn was too quiet tonight as I approached the bathroom. Just too quiet.
To our boarders that said goodbye to their beloved horses in 2025, I hope their memories will someday bring you smiles. I miss them all dearly. This has definitely been one of the hardest years emotionally. It was an honor to care for them and it was an honor to be by their side as they crossed over, but I hope 2026 is a bit gentler. My heart needs some time to heal.
