I tried to spend as much time studying for boards, but there's only so many questions you can take until you find yourself choosing to steamclean the carpet rather than study for another five minutes. True story.
So once I gave up on all of that and got myself a mug of hot chocolate (extra whipped cream, of course) I sat down and started writing. Because I wouldn't be here today without the many horses I've learned from over the years, I need to write about them. Some are gone, some are still here.
Fair warning, this story is a sad one, about one of the ones who are gone. It's as much a story of what was as it is a story of what could have been.
This is Tessa's story.
Tessa is a bay Morgan mare with a strange disconnected stripe. She was born in Maine in 1993, the offspring of Tedwin Topic and Valiant Aphrodite, and soon registered under the moniker "Cabot Top Attraction".
Tessa went on to show (and win) at the Morgan Grand Nationals, taking home a number of top honors throughout her career. As a matter of fact, I first heard about her when she won against my previous trainer in the Hunter Pleasure Ladies Mares class at MGN 2003. While my trainer's horse, Whispering Lark, was nice, Tessa was something else entirely.
After her show career, Tessa went on to be a broodmare. She has a number of foals on the ground, most of which resemble her greatly.
At some point after that, Tessa was donated to the UConn horseback riding program, where she was used as a lesson horse. I met her my freshman year, the fall of 2006, and fell in love.
We clicked, and it wasn't long until I was riding her regularly in Drill Team practices. She was a fireball, but never misbehaved; she was a quick learner and remembered drill patterns better than I did. When I left Drill Team, she did too. Apparently she trucked through a pattern with a poor rider clinging white-knuckled to the reins. It doesn't surprise me.
Even though I wasn't riding her weekly, I still made a point to visit her on an almost daily basis. She'd come to the front of her stall for a hug or a treat, and stand with me as long as I wanted her to. Some days, I'd sit in the doorway of her stall and read or do homework; she'd rest her nose on my head or shoulder and just watch everything else going on.
My friend Katie began riding Tessa in a few lessons, and she fell in love as well. It was difficult not to, with this mare. We dressed up for a costume class at a schooling show one semester. I was on my project horse, Katie was on Tessa. Between the four of us, we were Dorothy, Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, and Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. The trophy we won still has a place of honor in my room.
Katie and I talked and made grand plans to bring our horses home with us once we graduated. She would have Tessa, the Tin Man, and I would have my project pony Ellie, the Cowardly Lion.
Time went on, and I managed to convince the barn manager to breed Tessa. She had a bay colt with her same facial marking and four white socks. He was named Tucker; he was, and still is, perfect in almost every way.
The first time I met Tucker; scarcely 1 day old
Me and Tucker, with Tessa in the background; I wish now that I had more pictures of her
Tessa was bred back, and I went home for the summer (this being the end of junior year, now). When I returned to school, things started to go downhill. Tessa lost her foal. She began dropping weight. Her vibrant personality was diminished, and she seemed tired.
It wasn't long before the diagnosis was made. Intestinal cancer. Advanced. No treatment. No cure.
I did what I could. We spent time together, with me just grooming her and stuffing her full of treats. I knew what was coming, but there is so little you can do to prepare yourself for such a loss. I braced myself, threw myself into work and riding and school, I tried to shield myself against what was coming.
On November 10, 2009, I overslept. I don't even remember the reason. When I got up, I checked my phone and found a text from early that morning.
"Tessa goes down today."
I knew that she was already gone at that point. It felt like my world had stopped. I managed to survive the day somehow, but I honestly can't remember what I did. I avoided the barn for a few days. My project pony had deserved a break anyways, so I didn't feel horribly guilty.
Actually, I don't think I felt much at all. I remember I didn't cry until the day after. But it was the sort of full-body crying where your entire face gets swollen and your chest and stomach hurt and there's nothing that makes it better.
Eventually, I made it back to the barn. Walking by Tessa's old stall was exquisitely painful. There was a new horse in there already. I don't remember who it was, but I hated them. I hated Tucker for having her face, her markings. I hated things that reminded me of her. I hated everything that wasn't her.
The pain was raw for so long after. But I survived.
It still sneaks up on me some days.
I plugged her name in to Google and found a video of her daughter, MEM Feel The Attraction, up for sale.
I'll admit it, I cried when I watched this
I toyed with the idea of buying her. Having a piece of Tessa. But I was reminded of a line from a book I'd read recently: "The similarities mocked me, and the differences tortured me." And I knew it would be true for me.
All I have left is her nametag from her bridle. And the memories. I think it's enough.
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