Chenille

I wondered yesterday what I should blog about... should it be the indoor baseball the kids are doing? The wedding we went to with everyone today? The christmas concert that became more commitment than i thought it would be?? And then, this morning one of our horses died. Not just any horse. Chenille. My mother in law, who keeps track of everything down to where she planted her cucumbers in the garden for the past 30 years and how many tomatos and peaches she canned from year to year, pulled out her horse photo album this afternoon when we dropped by, reading Chenille's history to Carrie, my animal lover. Chenille was born in 1985, My inlaws bought her in 92 and she was my mother in law's horse. A bay arab. Beautiful and fast...but with the typical fire of an arab as well. She liked to ride a little side-ways when she was at a "trot" but "full out", you would think you were flying. She liked to pull the reins out of your hands and itch her legs with her nose if she could and when you would take her to the mountains her arab legs would shake with anticipation and fear, but as soon as you were on the trail, she was determined and sure-footed. Boy could she neck-rein. The first time Curt and I went out it was for a ride through Chickakoo with our parents, Chenille came. Most of our dates involved taking Chenille and one of the other horses out for a ride. One day we found out she couldn't swim as we tried to cross a pond in one of the surrounding fields. Such a terrible feeling filled us as she panicked and refused to lift her head out of the water after a fit of terror. Curt stood knee deep in the muck and held her head up until she had calmed down enough to stand again. We rode home in silence. Poor Chenille. As soon as we were married Curt bought her for me from his mother. Later, we bought her filly off of them too and Curt trained and rode her. I loved riding Chenille. I loved her fire and Curt liked to say that the horse was just like the rider. :) When we had children, Chenille was the horse they learned to ride on and she seemed to know they were precious and she would ride so slowly and carefully. She had a colt we named Snoopy that died soon after birth of a heart defect. My 4 year old son and I talked a lot about death and heaven and the resurection after Snoopy. I caught him playing with his plastic horse and make believing that it had died. He carefully laid a dish cloth on it "Snoopy DIED!!!" he announced to the empty room... paused for silence. I felt for him... Suddenly he snatched the dish cloth and threw it in the air and yelled "He ROSE AGAIN!!!!!!!!" :) Funny how some moments we never forget. This summer, Darren, Carrie, Robin and Ellie each rode on Chenille. Sadie rode while being led around. It's been 12 years since we were married and bought Chenille and this morning, after doing chores with Sadie, Curt found her at the fence between our farm and my in-law's farm. Gone. Some horses come and go and we forget we rode them or we only remember one particular ride. Sugar was so annoying she had to be at the front of the pack wherever you rode, Paula Too ganted up so much on one mountain ride that the saddle fell off and Curt just about went down the mountain with her, Silver Cloud was sold to a friend so that Curt could buy me an engagement ring, Freckles doubled me and Curt up to old Alfred's field the night Curt proposed to me...Chenille was there for 12 years anytime we wanted to ride, anytime the kids wanted to ride, or friends and family. Today as my mother in law took out the book, she also carefully noted today's date at the bottom of Chenille's page. It might strike a person funny... that maybe we're remembering horses... but it's more than just the horse we're remembering, it's the time we spent together riding with her. She represents a big part of the "recreation" part of our marriage and family life. She was there the morning we woke up to a drooping tent under thick snow in the mountains of Cadomin. My mother in law fried eggs and bacon. The snow caused HUGE snaps as it fell into her pan. She made me coffee that morning even though she would never touch the stuff, and we saw a huge moose on the mountain only a few meters away. One ride... there were hundreds more... i could go on. Hard to imagine going for a ride without her.