Well that was the end of my relationship with my father, which had never been great. I was 18 and cut off all contact. The bastard had the grace to finally die about 12 years ago.
The day he sent her away I showed up at the barn that day to ride to an empty stall and was told he had sent a trailer. That’s how I found out. Then I started investigating (80s so all by phone and pounding pavement)
I didn’t go near a horse for 8 years after that, I just couldn’t. It took me a long time to work through it and process it, especially knowing what happens to those poor horses. It was because I stood up to him, and had i not done that things would have just remained status quo with him dishing out huge amounts of s and me smiling and eating it to keep the peace. He was all about control. Everything had a price.
I finally just had to reach the point where I accepted that I did what I had to do to keep the last shreds of my self respect, and that what ultimately happened to
My horse was all his decisions and choices and not mine, and that he was a hateful asshole.
I don’t think I will ever truly get over it but I managed to cope with it enough to get back into something I love, and to just make a place for it to stay closed off.
The weirdest thing was in 2003
My first homebred foal was born, it was a filly and she has the exact same markings as my first horse and is the same color
