A girl and her horse.

Have you ever loved a horse?  If you were a young ranch girl I can bet that you have!  When I was a little girl I had a horse named Spunky.  Spunky was your stereotypical little girl’s horse.  He was a small bay that didn’t have a lot of fire under him, which was good because I wasn’t much of a rider, but he was the kindest friend that ever blessed my life.  I learned a lot from Spunky.  We were pals from the time I was a little girl learning to ride. 

Spunky started out life a little bit rough.  His mother, Satin, was quite old when she gave birth to him, and his introduction into life wasn’t as smooth as it could have been.  Nonetheless, Spunky came into the world the same month and the same year as my older sister, September 1984.  My great Aunt often tells the story of how no one wanted to tell her that Satin had given birth to Spunky because they didn’t know if he was going to live, but Spunky was a fighter. 

Spunky started out my Mom’s horse.  He was a good little man and was easy to ride.  However, in his younger days he did give my cousin a few good hops when he was breaking him.  My cousin used to tell me “Spunky may not be spunky now, but he had his moment.”  He wasn't very big, nor was he very fast, but what Spunky lacked in other places he made up for in heart.

My care was entrusted to Spunky when I was about seven or eight, and boy did we have some adventures.  He was the kind of horse that you could just put the reins down and let him do the work.  My mom tells a story about how one day we were out riding and we had come around the face of this mountain.  The face was quite steep and the ground was made up of shale.  Mom was quite nervous about our trail and turned around to check on me, only to find me with two sticks in place of my reins in my hands...pretending I was a deer.  Ole Spunk was on the job, being nervous had never even crossed my mind.

Sometimes, on long day rides, my family would separate in order to cover more ground.  Spunky and I would head out on our way looking for black cows.  There were times when I would get us into some stupid situations, but Spunky would always get us out.  Once, I trucked out into a dried tank bed and before I knew what had happened Spunky was up to his belly in mud.  I barreled off his back unsure of what to do, but that little horse had it all under control.  He looked at me as if to say “Back up” then he began to lunge and pulled himself right out.  We spent a lot of hours out on the range learning about ourselves and each other.

As I aged, so did my pony.  Before long his knees hurt too much to go on big range rides, so I only used him when we were doing meadow work.  After awhile we were afraid he was too old for even that.  So, Spunky retired to a life of leisure…with the occasional kiddie ride.  But no matter what we were always best of buds.  I used to pick apples from my Mom’s trees and sit on the fence in front of our house.  Spunk and I would share an apple or two while we chatted.  I would talk along and he would move his ears in response, only stopping to turn his lip up when one of the apples was a tart one.

When my sister graduated college our family headed down to Reno for the ceremony.  It was on this trip that we received a phone call that Spunky had passed away.  I have always felt so bad that I wasn’t home when he left; May 2007.  It was summer time, so the horses were all out on the range, but Spunk had come home to pass.  I have always thought that maybe he was looking for me, so that we could share one last apple and a chat before he went.  I guess in many ways I wish we had.

My heart was forever changed because I loved a little bay horse.  It was the kind of love that first sprang up in the heart of a little girl and continued on until she was a young lady.  He was the truest friend I had while I was growing up, or ever.  Spunky is buried on a little hill that over looks our ranch next to some of his fellow companions.  I guess that you could say that is where his story ends, but I believe that our hearts are one.  Blessed are those who have the opportunity in their life to know and love a horse.