To My Best Friend

Yesterday I lost my best friend. When my phone rang and mom told me she had bad news about George, my heart sunk. He lived the best life he could and yesterday all I could think was that I didn't want to let him go, that I wasn't going to be there to tell him how much I loved him.

At 28, George was my once-in-a-lifetime horse. He got me through everything and I thought and told everyone that he would love forever. I knew that his time would come but I knew that I would never be ready for that day. I never wanted him to be hurting, so I'm happy that he's in a place where he can now run around all day in the sun eating as much grass as he wants.

A few months ago I wrote a post for his birthday to show everyone just how much Pudge meant and everything he had given to me. Looking back, those words don't do justice to the wonderful horse he was, but I don't think I could say anything better now.

"As soon as I got onto his back, it was love at first sight. I had not learned how to canter yet, but he didn’t know that and when he took off, I couldn’t have cared less. We were a perfect match from day one. At 13-years-old, the red roan quarter horse was going to be my best friend for years and years to come. Being the same age, we have literally grown up together, and have taught each other so much and gotten each other through everything.

At 28, Pudge is the best horse I could ever ask for. We started our journey in the Pre-Children Hunter, barely being able to canter around the ring. The two of us moved up the ranks, eventually into the Children’s Hunters. We had our share of ups and downs, starting with our very first horseshow, where I had the flu, stuck in the stall the whole time and my mom ended up showing the Pudge.

In middle school, George and I were out for a trail ride all by ourselves and ended up slipping on black ice, sending both of us flying. He was fine, staring up at me with my broken ankle, like “mom, what are you doing down there?” We rode and competed through months of casts and ankle boots, both of us getting stronger and more in tune. He is my one and only. George and I have moved barns three times, and have been through everything together. He has heard all of my problems and is the one that always helps me solve me.

When I left for college, he was still looking for a job, so was leased out in the barn. This way I could still keep an eye on him and I knew the girl loved him. After that, he still needed a job, so he went to be a therapeutic horse. He loved his job and was so good with all the kids bouncing on his back until he was finally ready for a well-deserved retirement. When I graduated, I moved him to a horsey-retirement community in Jersey, where I could stop at see him every day on my home from work. Let’s just say that George has had a very spoiled life."

I do want to thank Lori and Mandi for taking care of him the last few years as I know they loved him just as much as I did. They were there with Georgie every day when mom couldn't get there and when I moved south. Georgie also had the best friend in Fig, who he was attached to at the hip. 

My boy never acted his age.  He used to buck around the field like a two-year-old and came running when I walked in the barn aisle. Anyone who has had a horse knows there is that one who gets in your blood.