My email got hijacked. Probably through my iPod Touch. It's new, I couldn't figure out how to log out of email. I finally did, though not elegantly.
I was missing Maggie again. Why do I miss Maggie more than I miss Janow?
I had Janow for 18 years. Eighteen years as I journeyed from 32 years old with a 4 year old horse.
Then I was 50 with a 22 year old horse.
Janow wore his heart on his sleeve.
Sometimes Gregarious, sometimes Grumpy.
Janow had chronic laminitis for years. He foundered a couple of times. I knew that laminitis would probably cause his ending. When it did, 18 years of my past ended.
You own your past.
Nobody can take it.
I had Maggie for only six months.
I invested a lot, emotionally and financially, to changing my sense of self from Janow's rider to Maggie's driver.
Maggie was the plan for the next 18 years. I would be 68, Maggie 36. Gotlands and people often live that long.
Poor Maggie. She was nine when she was finally purchased from the breeder. She was a funky looking pony, described as "a little bit boring." Maggie took everything is stride. She was tender and affectionate. To me, she was beautiful.
Oh God, she was so beautiful.
My Pony Girl.
My Plain Brown.
When she died, 18 years of my future was stolen. My sense of self was gone.
I was swimming. Yndi was swimming. A broodmare at 16, the economy and her age were not in her favor. Joyce was determined to get her to a good place and joined us up.
Was Maggie's tender affection a Gotland trait?
Yndi says "Yes, it is."
We are going to live.
Yndi and I, we are going to live.