Preparing for Goodbye

I'm sitting here in Starbucks listening to the melancholy music and thinking about sweet Beau and how I may have to say goodbye to him today. He has someone coming to look at him, and I was unable to find a place that we could afford to keep him.  The faithful part of me says that it wasn't meant to be. The practical part of me is mad I couldn't make it happen regardless of fate's whimsies. The hormonal, baby-wanting part of me says we need to save for a little McFarlin, anyway. Conflicted I am, today. Like Yoda I speak today, too.

I rode him yesterday for what could be the last time, and he exemplified everything I love him for. Sweet, agreeable, sensitive, a little flighty, kind of unpredictable but somehow still completely trustworthy. Eager, fun, responsive, beautiful. I was reminded of how even when things startle him, I still feel completely safe on him. Like, he wants to get away from the scary thing but he also wants to get me away from the scary thing, too. He listens for my reaction and reassuring words and responds. He challenges me in just the perfect way, and for those learning experiences I am thankful.

We may not have had a lot of time together, but he is a horse I will never forget. I am grateful for the months he spent at Remember Me so I could learn from him, love him, and be loved back. I will miss him so much, but I pray with all my heart that he finds a good home today. He deserves a loving adoptive mother who can see him every single day and spend endless time and attention on him. I really hope he finds this today, as heavy as it makes my heart. And this, it seems to me, is the true definition of love. I will let him go because it is best for him. With my heart in my throat, I prepare to say good-bye. I love you, Beau. You will always have a 16.2hh place in my heart.