This is Gypsy.
She was my first horse. I had her for seven amazing years-- she was my best friend, closest companion, confidante, and mentor. I called her my "baby", like I do all my pets, but she felt more like a mother.
This next part (if you haven't already tuned out) may go over your head. Gypsy taught me a lot about horses. She taught me how to ride, how to act, how to overcome my fears. She was the perfect horse-- calm, eager to please and learn, well-behaved but spunky, and an affectionate, loving sweetheart.
Three years ago, I also bought her then-five-year-old filly, Tally, from the same man who'd sold me Gypsy. Tally needed help-- a lot of help-- and the lessons that I'd learned from Gypsy helped me help Tally. But, even three years later, Tally is still "special"-- she's spooky, and while an absolute sweetheart like her mother, I have to keep a very rigid routine with her to keep her calm. She is like her mother, but she is not her mother.
What does any of this have to do with my wedding? Well, for as long as I had Gypsy, I always told myself that someday, some glorious day, when the man of my dreams asked me to marry him and I was ready to take that walk, I would do it with my little girl. I had fantasies of riding in in my big white dress-- sidesaddle, of course-- and having her there with me on that day.
You may notice I use the past tense when I talk about Gypsy. Last August, after a mild respiratory infection, she foundered. I won't go into the details here, but basically, founder is a crippling disease that often results in horses having to be euthanized-- and the first vet I consulted immediately told me it was too late. Luckily, I found another amazing vet and a new farrier who worked together to bring her back from the brink of death. I was safe, I thought. I knew Gypsy wouldn't live to be 30 like a lot of horses do nowadays, but I wasn't ready to lose her at 21, either.
Then the respiratory infection came back, and the new vet diagnosed it as COPD. Within a day of that diagnosis, she stopped eating. She stopped drinking. She wouldn't take her medications. I did everything I could, but it was too late-- she went into shock and colicked.
I lost my little girl that day. My sweet, amazing, precious girl. Words can't describe how amazing Gypsy was, or how much she meant to me.
So, since Tally isn't an option due to her unpredictability-- even though I love her just as much as I loved her mother-- I decided I wanted something symbolic of that lost opportunity with me on my wedding day. My dress will cover them, but they'll give me a low heel to add a tiny bit of height, and I can walk in them completely free of the duck-walk most heels give me. Most importantly, I'll have a reminder of my "puddin'" with me all day. A day that she never got to see.
Yesterday, my mom and I went shopping and I found the boots I will wear on my wedding day. Sure, they don't go with my theme. But they go with my heart, and my heart wants to remember those important to me who won't see this day.
I have some other plans for small memorial items in my wedding. Stay tuned for those, too. What, if anything, are you doing to remember those you've lost?
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