Happy birthday, Scooter! My little black and white gelding is fourteen today. Of course, being a horse, he’s been officially fourteen since New Year’s Day. That’s when all horses turn one year older. My precious boy was born, however, on May 11, 1996 in South Dakota.
Scoot, I’m so happy you are enjoying Arizona, and that your Auntie Margo is taking such good care of you while I transition my life. It’s a joy to come ride you and the Baby, even though it’s a tough drive to get to you. Had you stayed in Colorado at your old home, you would have been standing in cold mud and snow for the last seven months.
How well I remember that Sunday in March 1999 when your Dad and I decided to go to the CSU Equine Center to see a horse auction. We had no intention of getting another horse, especially at an auction, the worst place to buy one. Then Earl said, “Mare, look at that one.” I set my eyes on you and was stunned by your beauty. I was enthralled by that shiny black and white coat, your pleasant demeanor and willingness to be examined. I never thought I’d win you, but I did, and we had a new member of the family.
Getting you home was another thing. We couldn’t load you, and when you finally got in, you threw a fit. You had only been in stock trailers until then. We had to get your former human, a cowboy, to ride on the outside fender of the trailer, holding your broken lead while your head was facing out the back of the trailer.
We put you across the street in the little corral. You ran around with a look on your face of, “What’s happening to me! Where am I?” We treated your scrapes and bumps, fed you and left you to calm down, visiting often.
When time, you joined Marcie and Aria in the corral. You soon learned that Marcie was the Diva, and then you fell in love with her. You delighted us with your antics and your sweetness. While Earl and his dad built you a new stall, I saddled you up. Your brochure said you had been ‘rode on the ranch.’ I climbed on your back, asked you to go, and nothing! You stood like a rock.
Later, you went to our dear friend, the late Steve Bowers, who with his twin, Mike, had trained Franny and Marcie. Steve liked you from day one. He also told you you had it made for life.
From there on, you have been a wonderful friend, a partner and a confidant. I miss you every day, but know that you are being well cared for. I’ll visit as much as I can to groom you, hug you and ride. Horses live in the moment, so you don’t miss me when I go. Unfortunately, people don’t. I miss you so much, the daily routine we had in Colorado with you and Hannah and your Dad. We don’t have that any more. In time, perhaps we will again.
In the meantime, my beautiful friend, happy birthday, and health and happiness to you, Scootsritealong.