This week we said goodbye to him, the horse that was “the horse”. I’ve always envisioned heaven to be a field under the most gorgeous red sunset, the smell of alfalfa, and my favorite horses running full speed up to the fence, to come say hello.
My mom bought BR Winchester, “Lumpy”, my sophomore year of high school. I had only been competing in cutting for about a year but had been active in horse shows my entire life. My newfound interest in cattle cutting was inspired by the loss of my dad a couple years earlier. (He had loved cutting and wanted me to give it a try, but we had run out of time.) The moment I saw Lumpy, it was love at first sight. He was a short, stout, and solid sorrel. He wasn’t going to win a halter class, but I thought he was perfect. He was a son of Young Gun and while his papers were impressive, his personality was what won us over. An illness as a 2-year-old had resulted in residual lumps on his throat latch and a mane that was only a few inches long, much unlike the gorgeous, long manes of his competitors, hence the name “Lumpy”. On the day he joined our family, neither my mom nor I could have imagined that we would get to love him for 22 more years.
The next summer, Lumpy and I earned the South Dakota State High School Girls Cutting Reserve Champion as well as a trip to the National High School Rodeo Finals. I felt the stars align as we won that reserve buckle at state, the buckle my mom had sponsored in memory of my dad. With his help, I earned an NCHA scholarship. I left for college 900 miles away, which meant it was time for me to say good-bye to my horses, but after receiving the scholarship, my mom decided to keep Lumpy. She started cutting and she fell in love with it as well.
Lumpy had a personality that was unlike any horse I had met. He was laid back and loveable, always greeting everyone. He had eyes that always said what he was thinking. He loved to check out what snacks might be in your pocket. One weekend I came home from college and rode along to a cutting with my mom. Upon arrival, I realized Lumpy had made several new friends while I had been away and they updated me on what his new favorite snacks were. Lumpy was loved by all.
After grad school, I moved back to hometown. Lumpy was my children’s first ride and their first horse. He made a few lead line appearances in AQHA shows.
He was the star at a few birthday parties, where little girls were beside themselves for a chance to ride. He was the horse I didn’t have to worry about, which I didn’t fully appreciate or understand until I became a mom. A few years ago, I re-married and bought a property only two houses away from where I grew up. I loved standing in my driveway and being able to see Lumpy in his pasture. I loved driving by, stopping along the fence to say hi to him. He always turned his head to acknowledge me, sometimes with a nicker.
Lumpy went to his heavenly pasture on the last day of our summer, the day before school started. Lumpy always had a way with his timing. My mom was camping at her favorite horse camp with her horses (I can count on one hand the vacations she ever took without her horses). On Sunday morning, she realized he had quit eating and his legs had become too sore. For almost twenty years, she had treated his legs for a dermatitis that was thought to be the result of a possible auto immune disease. His teeth had worn down over the past year, but she found pellets and alfalfa cubes he enjoyed, and she soaked them for him every morning, noon, and night. She made countless trips to the vet to ensure she was doing all she could do for him – and she was, but in that final week of August, his body had had enough. I stood in my mom’s yard as I watched the horse trailer come down our road, knowing this would be his last trip. As he unloaded from the trailer, I could see in his eyes that he knew this was his last trip, too. He paused before he took his final step off the trailer and looked around, as if glad to know his final stop would be home. I buried my face in his neck as I cried, and he wrapped his neck around me, comforting me as he had done for over twenty years. That’s the thing about horses – they don’t need words – they can just feel what we feel. I reminded him that he had changed my life in infinite ways. I told him that he arrived in our lives at a time when we needed him most – the therapy horses give us is unlike anything else. Lumpy helped me find ways to not focus on the loss of my dad, but rather the opportunities that were ahead of me.
The exceptional care my mom gives her animals results in them living longer than most, but even with his borrowed time, it wasn’t long enough. My mom spent the past few years putting countless hours of love and commitment into Lumpy, just as he had done for us. She never gave up on him and did all that she could to make his life as wonderful as he had made ours. As I stood in the corral with him on his final day, my mom walked back into the house to call the vet. When she turned and walked away, he turned his head and watched her, as if to say, “She has been so good to me.” When the vet pulled into the driveway, I swore I felt my heart literally break. The time had come. I knew it was coming, but suddenly it was here. My mom and I walked him to the pasture. I assured him that my dad would greet him in heaven, with the treats Lumpy loved. I was sure my dad wanted to finally meet the horse that had helped raise his family. I reminded Lumpy that his best years were also some of mine. I sobbed and thanked him profusely for the love he gave us. As Lumpy took his final breaths, he took a piece of us with him.
In his final days, I thought about the doors he opened for me.The NCHA scholarship was a significant help for my undergrad degree; it helped give me the career I had always wanted. A reserve state title was a childhood dream, but the greatest gift he gave me, was the pure and absolute love for horses. And he gave it to my children, too. I loved competing, but what I loved more was sharing my love for horses with those who didn’t have the luxury. (Honestly, back then, I still didn’t understand the luxury of it. I do now.) I thought about the way he helped countless friends fall in love with horses, in a way only a horse like Lumpy could. He made them feel safe. He went on to compete in several state high school finals, long after I graduated. He was the horse that youth would ride in a practice class, just to see what it was like. Until I became a mom, I didn’t fully appreciate how gentle and patient he was.
He was the horse many of my friends rode for the first time. He was the horse who I trusted with my friends’ kids and my kids’ friends. A few years ago, a friend brought her daughters out for their first-ever ride. Her youngest daughter had Williams Syndrome and Lumpy somehow understood that this sweet girl needed his love and his patience. She fell in love with horses that day and still absolutely loves therapeutic riding. The love for horses he gave others reached far beyond the cutting pen and NCHA earnings.
I can’t remember the last time I rode him and I’m glad I can’t – I wouldn’t have wanted to know the last time would be the last time.
This morning as we drove to school, I looked at the freshly dug dirt smoothed over where he had stood yesterday. For 22 years, he watched as we drove by. Today, his pasture was empty and this morning my mom wouldn’t hear the sound of his nose playing with his feed bucket. Today was a hard day of trying to process the grief of a love and heartbreak I can’t explain.
He was there every step of the way. From prom pictures to my kids’ first rides, he was there. During my divorce, I sometimes drove to my mom’s and stood in the corral to hug him – and he just stood there and let me. I reminded Lumpy that he was one of the greatest love stories of my life and that I would remember him for the rest of my days. This summer I realized how much I had missed the horse world. I took a break from the horse world after my divorce, but in his final hour, I promised Lumpy I would come back to it. And I will come back. Although I’ll never find another horse like him, the grief of losing him and knowing it would have been the end of that life I dearly loved is a grief that is too great for me to bear.
Tonight, I noticed the sunset appeared to be a magnificent red, and I was sure Lumpy was running in his heavenly field, with a body much younger than his earthly 27 years allowed.
Lumpy was loved and adored by three generations. For 22 years,he gave us his best. He raised us. He was one of the greatest. My heart is so grateful to my mom who helped give me one of my greatest love stories. How lucky we were to be loved by him. Thanks for the ride, Lumpy – it was a great one.
The sequel was my favorite 