Goodbye Li'l' Floss

GOODBYE LI'L FLOSS

I phoned Des tonight, September 27, 2010, about the weather and the condition of the track and he said he had some bad news for me and it had nothing to do with either. He said he got rid of all his horses and they’ll be gone from his property within the next two weeks. He’s given Flossie to his granddaughter who’s starting to take lessons now and needs a horse to learn on. Flossie will be a good lesson horse. The work I’ve put into her has taken her to that level. If she had been my own horse, I would have looked for just this sort of situation. So I’m happy for her even though I’m sad beyond words for myself.

Norm said horses are a dime a dozen and that there are more where Flossie came from. I sure hope he’s right. A few years ago a friend of ours directed me to an Arabian/pinto stud farm because she knows the owner, Marion Corbley. If it’s still in existence, and it looks as though it is since I checked it out on the Internet already, I plan to phone Marion when I get back from my visit to America. It’s a good place to start and the farm is located in Bethania, which is as close to home as Des’ place is.

Des said he hasn’t been feeling well in the past few weeks or so and needs to get away from the horses for a while. Only his colt will remain on the property and if he doesn’t do well on the track, then he’s going to be gone too. Gary has sold all his horses except for the young one he recently purchased. Des didn’t say anything about Pat, but I know he has another place where he can take his horses so I’m guessing that’s probably what he’ll be doing, if he hasn’t done it already.

I have a refrigerator full of carrots so I’m going to take them to Flossie and her pals tomorrow morning whether the weather wants me to or not. We’re supposed to have showers tonight and isolated thunderstorms tomorrow. The storms usually arrive around 4:00 o’clock so if the showers tonight aren’t too heavy, and they stop by morning, I may just venture a ride. After all, it may very well be my last.

Sometimes I don’t see the point in allowing one’s self to get close to any living thing, whether it be human or animal. Strong, positive contacts, bonds, relationships, have a way of forming whether we want them to or not and when circumstances come along to tear them apart, the loss is devastating to the heart. I have been here before. When I left America, I left Tonto, a chestnut Thoroughbred behind. I cried my eyes out over her soft pretzel-scented nose before saying goodbye. She died shortly after I migrated to Oz. Again, I cried uncontrollably at her passing. However, I got over both losses in time and my heart did finally heal even though I carry fond memories of the mare which often bring tears to my eyes and probably always will.

When Madeline and Glen sent Silver away my heart broke to see her gone. Riding and teaching at Capricorn Coast Trail Rides was difficult after that, but I survived and coped in spite of my grief. As far as I know she’s still alive and doing well, living out her life in a huge pasture with nothing but freedom as far as the eye can see. At least that’s the way I choose to see it.

Of course you know about Flit, the one and only horse I ever owned, and there were many, many other horses that have come and gone in the past thirty or so years of my life that I had grown very fond of and formed attachments to who were also just as difficult to part with when the time came to say my final goodbye.

Remember the little buckskin gelding I called Gavin who lived on the corner of Fryar and Eagleby Road when Norm and I first moved to Brisbane? It was difficult without him especially since I never had the chance to say goodbye. I went down to his pasture to give him an apple and learned at that time he had been moved to another home. I carried that loss around with me for a long time and even today when I pass that empty pasture I feel a heavy tug on my heart.

I have nothing else to share with you at the moment, so I may as well take my heavy heart to bed and hope it will allow me to do some sleeping. I doubt it, but I didn’t sleep well last night, so maybe it’ll take pity on me.