It’s New Year’s Eve. The first New Year’s Eve in
quite some time that I’ve not known just what I’ll be doing at midnight. See, a
few years ago, I started spending midnight on New Year’s Eve with my pony Gram.
I don’t know why it started, but it was a very important part of my year. I
would go to New Year’s parties, but leave in plenty of time to be home for
midnight. I ended the old year and started the new year with Gram. And this is
the first year without her.
The last few years, I’ve really made a point to appreciate that time that we specifically shared. She was old, at least late 30s, possibly even early 40s (which for any non-horse people is really old). I had been incredibly fortunate to have a pony who lived so long, and there was no telling how much longer she would be around. I’d already said goodbye to her multiple times, when she was in such rough shape that we didn’t think there was any way she would last another month. I’d even driven home from VT as fast as I could by myself so that I could say goodbye to her. But each time, she bounced back. And each time, I learned how much she meant to me. And every year, it became more important for me to ring in the new year with her.
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Poor Gram...Over the years, she eventually got used to the fact that she had been saddled with a girl who was a night owl. The first few times I visited her in the middle of the night, she looked at me like I was entirely mental. Then she accepted it, and I think she even enjoyed our midnight chats. At least she enjoyed them when I didn’t turn on the lights and leave her standing there blinking like a startled owl. When I was younger, I would sneak out of the house at night to visit her. Nights when there was a full moon pulled me out there like nothing else could.
When I started going out there, I’d usually hop on Gram’s back. Sometimes we went for a ride, sometimes I just sat there, talking to her and petting her while she ate. The last few years though, as she grew older and less able to hold a rider, I would stand with her. I’d put my arms around her neck while she leaned against me. It was sort of a reversal of our roles. Sometimes she was laying down when I went out. She’d look up and start to get up, then realize it was just me again, and she would relax. I’d sit with her, rubbing her back, and talking to her again.
The whole ‘horse crazy little girl’ thing is
such a cliche. Supposedly every little girl goes through that phase. I guess I
just never outgrew it. I feel somewhat adrift at the moment though. I knew when
I got Gram that she was old. I was 9 and she was over twice my age. But somehow
I hoped that she would last forever. And now, there’s something huge missing
from my life. One of the key players from my childhood isn’t there anymore. I
have the memories, which I treasure, but I can’t go out and put my arms around
her neck anymore. I’ll never just about topple over her neck when she decides
to abruptly stop during one of our rides. I’ll never see her fall asleep while
I groom her tail. And we’ll never ring in the new year together.
It’s a big regret of mine that I wasn’t there when she died. I know my parents were there, and that she wasn’t alone, but had people there who loved her. But I wish I’d been there for my best friend who was there for me always.
But if I had been there when she died, that would mean I’d have skipped this last trip to India, and Leaf and Marius would probably be dead right now. I know Gram liked Cosette when I brought her home last year, and I think she’d approve of Leaf and Marius too. So, yeah, I’m sad and I wish I could spend midnight with Gram, but I won’t sulk all night about it. Instead, I’ll ring in the New Year with my new kids, who mean so much to me. The new generation of animals who are much more than just “pets” to me. Call me crazy, I’m not bothered. I know what the animals in my life have meant to me over the years, and I am perfectly happy to spend time with them on New Year’s Eve.
The last few years, I’ve really made a point to appreciate that time that we specifically shared. She was old, at least late 30s, possibly even early 40s (which for any non-horse people is really old). I had been incredibly fortunate to have a pony who lived so long, and there was no telling how much longer she would be around. I’d already said goodbye to her multiple times, when she was in such rough shape that we didn’t think there was any way she would last another month. I’d even driven home from VT as fast as I could by myself so that I could say goodbye to her. But each time, she bounced back. And each time, I learned how much she meant to me. And every year, it became more important for me to ring in the new year with her.
Poor Gram...Over the years, she eventually got used to the fact that she had been saddled with a girl who was a night owl. The first few times I visited her in the middle of the night, she looked at me like I was entirely mental. Then she accepted it, and I think she even enjoyed our midnight chats. At least she enjoyed them when I didn’t turn on the lights and leave her standing there blinking like a startled owl. When I was younger, I would sneak out of the house at night to visit her. Nights when there was a full moon pulled me out there like nothing else could.
When I started going out there, I’d usually hop on Gram’s back. Sometimes we went for a ride, sometimes I just sat there, talking to her and petting her while she ate. The last few years though, as she grew older and less able to hold a rider, I would stand with her. I’d put my arms around her neck while she leaned against me. It was sort of a reversal of our roles. Sometimes she was laying down when I went out. She’d look up and start to get up, then realize it was just me again, and she would relax. I’d sit with her, rubbing her back, and talking to her again.
It’s a big regret of mine that I wasn’t there when she died. I know my parents were there, and that she wasn’t alone, but had people there who loved her. But I wish I’d been there for my best friend who was there for me always.
But if I had been there when she died, that would mean I’d have skipped this last trip to India, and Leaf and Marius would probably be dead right now. I know Gram liked Cosette when I brought her home last year, and I think she’d approve of Leaf and Marius too. So, yeah, I’m sad and I wish I could spend midnight with Gram, but I won’t sulk all night about it. Instead, I’ll ring in the New Year with my new kids, who mean so much to me. The new generation of animals who are much more than just “pets” to me. Call me crazy, I’m not bothered. I know what the animals in my life have meant to me over the years, and I am perfectly happy to spend time with them on New Year’s Eve.
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