You need to know

"For a mustang"

I heard that phrase a lot during Olive's first ICU stay at Littleton Equine.

"She's very cute for a mustang."

"She's well behaved for a mustang."

"She's well built for a mustang."

I know it was meant as a compliment, but after a while, it started to get to me. I vented about it to my friend, Cheyenne, who was - at the time - working in the Littleton office. 

She said, "Well, we really don't see a lot of mustangs in the ICU. It's mostly..." Then her voice trailed off as she tried to think of a nice way to say "valuable horses."

Okay, I get it. I've lived in that world, and I know that for a lot of people, the value of a horse is measured by how it's bred and the ribbons it's won.

Olive wasn't that kind of horse.

Instead of going to competitions, she gave pony rides...

and kisses.

So many kisses.

She wore costumes...

albeit reluctantly...

and posed for photos.

Oh, how she loved posing for photos!

She went on walks.

Miles and miles of them!

This year, she even walked to the ballot box and voted with me.

I did ride her, of course.

I loved riding her.

There were a million little bareback toodles...

interspersed with big and small trail adventures.

But really, Olive's value wasn't measured by what she could - or could not - do under saddle. 

She was valuable for who she was...

and what she meant to me...

and so, so, so many other people.

None of this was evident when she arrived at Littleton on Saturday. She looked terrible. Her body was bloated, her heavy winter coat was drenched with sweat, her expression was blank and her eyes were hard and glassy. The staff treated her kindly and professionally, but also impersonally. Which was fine. Seth, Angelo and I were there. She had her people. We knew who she was.

But, at the end, when the impossible decision had been made, I felt compelled to tell everyone present, that this was Olive, and she mattered.

"You need to know," I said. "This little horse is more than just a mustang. She is important. I know everyone thinks that about their horse, but this one really is. I waited fifty two years to have a pony of my own, and when I got her, I shared her with everyone. Literally, everyone. More than two hundred people chipped in to pay for her colic surgery. She is my horse, but she's also everyone's horse. She is the best."

And she was.

She really, really was.