The golden moments in the stream
of life rush past us and we see nothing
but sand; the angels come to visit
us, and we only know them
when they are gone.
George Elliot

When I first saw you your misshapen feet they were buried in mud, your coat was dirty, and I could see so many of your aching bones, and the mud hid some of your scars but some were so deep they made your coat stand up in places. You eagerly walked towards me somehow with joy in your step. You saw me and felt me coming; you walked through the mud with the shadow of what you used to be glowing behind you like a pale golden ghost. Green grasses an immaculate blond coat the color of the sunshine on wheat is what you were born to. You had all of your teeth then, before someone hit you hard enough that you lost some of them, you could keep your tongue in your mouth because you had all your front teeth. You did not have a dent in your cheek from the mallet they used on your head. You sides were not caved in before they broke your ribs. Your mane and tail were full and the color of fresh cream. You were born with great promise and I cannot imagine what you endured to put you were you are.

After all they had done to you; you still came to me and peered over the stop of your stall to kiss my cheek. You knew me; you knew who I was and where I had come from, you saw into my soul and how much I love all horses, regardless of what man made them into. Like any communicator a beacon of hope for those who have not been seen for what they really are for so long that even you may have forgotten. You knew me; you knew I would see what you really are. A golden heart the color of the coat you used to have and a far braver soul than anyone could envision. You came here an angel to endure what mankind gave you.

You left your hoof print on my heart with your lips on my cheek. Wherever you may travel, I hope that where you are now is safe and I’m sure god will greet you like the angel you are when your time on this planet teaching us is through. I have said a silent prayer for your wellbeing every day since I met you for your peace and to bless your valiant soul. I will never forget you. You are a constant reminder of what horses suffer at the hands of a man or woman’s ego and our weakness as a race that we could allow such abuse and travesty to happen. You bear the scars of that ego on your hide and it makes me weep for you, it also makes me hold my own horses more dearly and makes me forward any abuse that crosses my path.

The planet is full of horses and animals like you. Horses that are not seen, that are misunderstood and because of that misunderstanding suffer abuse from their owners, horses that are not fed well, or live in confinement. You can’t read this but you know that you’re still in my heart. This is for those of you that can read so you know the golden mare’s story.