Personal Narrative: My Missouri Fox Trotting Horse
1817 Words8 Pages
I’ve always been more of an animal lover than a “people person”, and form very
strong connections with animals. There have been many animals that have touched my
heart in my lifetime, but very few have made the impact that my Missouri Fox Trotting
Horse, Roany, did in the short amount of time we were allowed to spend together. Our
connection was very rare; we could practically read each other’s minds. It was as if we
were meant for each other, and to this day I have never had a bond with another animal
quite like the one I had with him.
I was first introduced to Roany in the late summer or early fall of 2009, very
shortly before my fourteenth birthday. Some family friends of ours had rescued him from
severe neglect in which…show more content… Our last summer together was our best and most fulfilling. We rode all over the
trails at Hillsdale Lake in Kansas and around the pasture at home. People would make
comments about what a good pair we were and what a brave horse he was. At first they
would frown and say “are you sure he can handle it?” and then they would watch in awe
as he climbed rocky hills, jumped three foot logs, and galloped across fields with the
other horses. They would never doubt him again after that. I especially recall an old horse
trader making snide remarks about his swayback and his thin stature and our elderly
friend Steve, who had sold him to my parents for my birthday, run him off of the property
because of it. Everyone who knew Roany loved him and was amazed by him.
December 18, 2011 was one of the worst days of my life. I was a sixteen-year-old
sophomore in high school by now, and it was a Sunday morning. I woke up to see my
mom and step-dad walking Roany in his blanket outside my window, and I had a gut
feeling that something wasn’t right. I fled out the door and asked what was going on.
“We think he’s colicking and we’ve called the vet”, my mom said. I immediately…show more content… “Don’t panic, you cannot panic.
Help us walk him,” my mom said. I walked him until my feet were so cold they could no
longer move and petted him and told him I loved him and that everything would be
alright. The vet came shortly after and hauled him away to the vet clinic. My last words
to my precious horse were “Get better for me. I love you.”
Late that night, the phone rang and my mom and step-dad walked into my room
with tear-filled eyes. I immediately knew what was wrong. “His intestines were twisted
and there was nothing we could do. He was going to die no matter what.” I was too
shocked to say anything, but burst into tears about a minute later. I experienced all sorts
of emotions– sadness that he was gone, relief that he was no longer in pain, and anger
that he had been starved all because of some selfish brats who didn’t care about anyone
but themselves. He was only eighteen years old, still only middle-aged for a horse, but on
the same token, longer than some horses get to live. I was unable to sleep at all that night
and was so upset that I shook uncontrollably. Since I was never very close to people,