Clunk, clunk, squeak. I shoved the gate forward, swung the chain around it, and stepped into the pasture. I trudged around looking for the boys, finally finding them in the very back corner munching grass, not a care in the world. Slipping the halters over Buddy and Flash’s heads, the horses trotted behind me as we exited the muddy pasture. I put both boys in their stalls then came back out to get the other horses. I had grabbed three halters, but as I turned to put the last halter on the third horse, my heart dropped in realization. There was no third horse anymore. Sparky was gone. Gripping the halter tightly, I threw the gate open and walked Snapples and Blue to their stalls. After putting their halters away, I sat down on my trunk, still clutching to that one halter. Sparky’s halter. I rubbed its leather and ran my fingers over his nameplate on the side. Tears were forming in my eyes, but I choked them back and put the halter in my trunk with the rest of Sparky’s tack.

 I still remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember going with my trainer and boss to take him to the vet. I remember watching in panic as Dr. Matt did scans and examined Sparky. It had been a short examination, but it felt like forever to me. Once they finished the last test and saw the results, I ran up to Dr. Matt frantically. “What’s wrong with him? He’s okay right? Please tell me he’ll be fine!” I begged him.

Dr. Matt set his jaw and shook his head at me. “I’m sorry. Normally, we could save him, but he’s too old for the surgery. There is too great of a risk.” I could see Dr. Matt talking and knew he was explaining what was wrong, but I couldn’t hear him. I felt numb. My trainer moved forward to hug me, but it was too late. I turned and ran into where they were keeping Sparky. He was standing against the wall in one of the stalls. Tears flooded my eyes and I ran forward and wrapped my arms around his neck.

 I’m not sure how long I was in that stall, but it seemed to be hours. My trainer and my boss had to hold me back as the doctor went in and injected him. Finally realizing that he was gone, I slumped down against the stall door and put my head in my hands, heartbroken.

Two months later, it was still hard to realize he was gone, but now all the memories that ran through my head were happier. Like the time I misjudged the distance to the jump and ended up falling on the jump. Or the times when I would bathe him and he would go roll immediately after. The most recurring memory was that of our last show together. The blue ribbon we won still hung in my room along with other ribbons from previous shows. Sparky and I had won first place in our jumping classes together and second in our flat classes.

It doesn’t matter how many horses I will have, how many shows I win with them, or how close I get to them, I will always remember my first horse. Your first horse shapes you into not only the rider, but the person, that you are, and have the biggest impact on your life. And no matter how much time passes by, I will always carry Sparky’s hoofprints on my heart.