Meatball

A good lesson horse is hard to make and harder to find. 10 years ago I decided I would be able to find a diamond in the rough at a local, but dodgy auction. I sat in the cold bleachers watching horses go through, most selling to dealers or other auction houses, until a short, fat chestnut walked into the ring. I had never bet on a horse, and I raised my number timidly. As soon as I did, the owner of another auction house spotted me and bid against me. This continued until I was almost out of nerve and definitely out of money. Finally the auctioneer told the other guy that they all wanted to go home and to let me have the horse. Meatball came home that day and became the pillar of my tiny backyard lesson program. Over the years every new rider started on Meatball. Everyone did their first off the farm show on Meatball, he excelled in lessons with disabled students and anytime I needed a horse I could depend on I reached for Meatball. This summer he started showing signs of his age. He lost weight quickly, didn't command the herd like he always had, and was losing the sparkle in his big brown eyes. His diagnosis hit hard, a very aggressive form of cancer that would give him weeks, not months. I told his legion of loyal students, now ranging from 3 to 25. We had to cut so may pieces of his tail for memories that he had barely any left, and I felt at peace with the life I had given him. And then Meatball decided not to die. His bounce back from simple a anti inflammatory prescription baffled his vets and amazed the pathologists. We had to tell the students that he probably wasn't going to pass, and over the next months his tail grew into a well deserved mullet. Meatball proudly back to the boss of the herd, corner stone of the lesson program, and has returned to the bulbous red chonk that gave him his name. You never know how much time you have with a horse, but we are so thankful for our second chance with Meatball.