I get teary-eyed with I think of sweet Lucky. He taught me so much and gave me so much. It always felt like he thought of me as his little girl, even though we didn’t technically belong to each other. A wonderful woman owned Lucky, and as it was becoming harder and harder for her and Lucky to go on rides together, she offered me the opportunity to ride him for her. Lucky showed the signs of his age only on his face, where his beautiful sorrel color was flecked with white. Other than that, Lucky acted like he was 20 years younger than his real age. Playful and energetic, Lucky was up for anything and we had lots of fun adventures together. Lucky performed in Western Pleasure shows for me where he displayed his superb training and good breeding.
More than anything, Lucky was a teacher. Although I had had years of lessons, training, and experience with horses at this point, there is always more to learn about everything. Lucky was the perfect horse to whip me into shape when I missed something. I can’t remember the specific things that caused Lucky to need to “train” me, but I do remember feeling numerous times as though I had just been gently reprimanded by a grandfather. Then I’d look into Lucky’s wise old eyes and he would stare kindly back with “Don’t worry; now you know better” written clearly on his face.
Lucky was another perfect secret-keeper. He was always trustworthy, always there, comfortingly consistent, sweet and sometimes silly. I loved Lucky like he was my own horse, but I’m glad he had a wonderful owner who was kind enough to share him with me.
True to form, our family moved away again about a year after I developed this bond with Lucky. As always, I hated the tear-soaked goodbye. A few years later I learned that Lucky had passed away, and I wept yet another goodbye to sweet Lucky.
Is there a horse heaven? I believe there is . . . And if any horse deserves to be there, it’s Lucky.