Brothers

A little more than three years ago, I rode this super awesome Irish Draught named Dicey. He was an ex-foxhunter-turned-lesson horse out at my barn. I met him on my first day and fell completely head over heels.

He was fantastic. At the time, I was, while experienced, still very much a squirrelly rider and Dicey did a fantastic job of taking care of me.  I didn't jump much before I joined the barn I'm at now, so anything over 18" was a huge feat for me. Dicey made sure I wasn't going anywhere.

I also didn't show until I got to my barn, so lead me through my first show as well.

We didn't do well, but the experience was great and he gave me the biggest confidence boost ever. He partnered with me to my second show, as well.

He wasn't the easiest ride, myself and my instructor's boyfriend being his most frequent flyers, and occasionally Liz's older sister. He had a habit of getting heavy in your hands and at one point I was told he would take off if you weren't secure enough to control him and bring him back down. He also had a bit of a breathing problem, but I honestly didn't care. He was my best friend.

One cold December afternoon, I came home and put on my boots to go ride. My dad stopped me at the door frame. He was crying.

"Ava, Dicey is dead."

I've never taken a death worse than I did in that moment. My first instinct was to scream. I screamed bloody murder. I've never cried more than I did in that moment.

My life was over. I came out to say goodbye before they buried him. I hyperventilated before I could reach him. After my dad and my instructor picked me up and brought me over to him, I cried over him for hours on end. 

Why am I talking about this? Because he came up today. My instructor and I were driving past Mister in the Kubota when she nudged me and said:

"Mister sure does look like Dicey nowadays. Acts like him, too."

A freezed a little bit. I don't talk about Dicey a whole lot anymore. It feels funny to bring him up in conversation. But I gathered my bearings back up and said, "Yeah, yeah he does doesn't he?"

It didn't cross me again until I went to go get him. And I thought wow, they really do look alike.

Same big blaze going down their faces, big pink noses, flat croups, long legs, clunker hooves, feathery fetlocks, almost the same personality.

Almost.

Mister has more of a "haha mom look how funny it would be if I did this" or "Mom my face is itchy you have to scratch it right now", while Dicey was a "Small child! How are you? Would you like a hand lick? I think you would."

Mister is also a lot more athletic than Dicey ever was, even with his soundness issues. 

Regardless, they're my boys and I love them. Coughcougheventhoughoneisdeadcoughcough. There's a song by the Avett Brothers with the lyrics: 

"I wonder which brother is better

Which one our parents loved the most
I sure did get in lots of trouble
They seemed to let the other go
A tear fell from my father's eye
I wondered what my dad would say
He said, 'I love you and I'm proud of you both,
In so many different ways'"

I think that's how I feel about the both of them. I wasn't as hard on Dicey as I am on Mister, because I expect so much more from Mister, simply because he's so much younger and he hasn't even finished his prime years yet. 

I dunno, maybe one day when Dicey's anniversary death rolls around I'll write something worthwhile. 

Meanwhile, cheers!