For Mr. Ed...

''I'm Eddie, I'm here to pick up Betty.
We're going for spaghetti, is she ready?''

Eddie Three Socks
Fast Eddie

Eddie became my horse somewhere around my seventh birthday. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. Eddie had been our foreman’s horse, and I had admired the bay gelding from afar – dreaming of the day I’d be allowed to ride a horse like him all by myself.

My dad being a cattle rancher meant that I got a Shetland pony (Peaches) for my fourth (fifth?) birthday. I know what you’re thinking: every little girl’s dream is to have a pony, right? And it was. I’ve always loved horses and ponies. Some of my earliest memories are of playing with Breyer Horses and My Little Ponies – what little girl wouldn’t want the real thing? But it was also a rather functional gift. When I was little, I got to ride along and help move the cattle from one pasture to another. Of course, I’m using the word “help” loosely, because being that little (and riding a pony, no less) meant that the cows were herding me around more than I was them. I FELT like a cowgirl, though, which was the important thing.

However, by the age of seven, I was quickly becoming too big for Peaches. The timing worked out perfectly because my little brother was ready to graduate from riding double with mom on Derico or Bessie Sue to riding solo. My graduating to a horse like Eddie would allow him to graduate to a pony – making way for Amy (who was pushing two at the time) to ride double with mom. Finally, we’d all be able to go on trail rides around the ranch together. It was an exciting time with so much possibility.

Eddie becoming my horse that day over twenty years ago was the start of a wonderful horse-rider friendship. He taught me a lot, and I will always cherish the memories I have of him: Endless trail rides, galloping on the top of the hill (which I’d always consider to be “Edward’s Plateau”), swimming in the tanks and stock ponds in the summer, the way Ed's back hooves rotated out and his front hooves in, playing hide-and-go-seek at night before the New Year, the times Eddie kept me from accidentally stepping on a rattlesnake, bathing and grooming him until he shone like a show horse, the times he fell asleep while being tacked, tickling his upper gum with my finger, cantering sideways, Eddie's booties and "special tack", pouring molasses over his grain for a special treat after a long day, night rides under the full moon, the way he’d always pass gas when I’d go to clean out his back hooves, the time Mimi rode him and he was just so gentle and calm, the funny “J” shaped brand on his left front shoulder, his high pitched whinny and close-coupled stance…the memories just keep coming and coming, wave after wave. Even the bad ones: falling off countless times, having Eddie step on my foot when I was wearing nothing more than flip-flops, not being able to ride one summer when Eddie was lame – even these memories are to be cherished and never forgotten.

On Monday – Memorial Day – Eddie had to be put down. He was old, and his teeth were bad. Despite all efforts, Eddie was losing weight and increasingly weak. It was his time to go.

The vet tranquilized him that morning before humanely putting him to sleep. He died on the ranch and was buried near the grove of trees near the bottom of Edward’s Plateau.

I wasn’t there, but was told he didn’t suffer. Just went to sleep peacefully and forever.

I will always miss and love you, dear friend...