I'll never forget the way the wind blew, exposing to the unsuspecting teenagers the horror of the gray mare's end. 

She lay sprawled, her tail flung across her back, head uplifted a odd angle as if prancing in her afterlife saying in her old familiar nicker “hey, look at me!” 

Her cute black foal will never know the horrors unfolded beneath the tarp above his mother, for he is off, away at ”camp” saved from the pain of knowing his mother will never be there to comfort him again. 

Although the thought of Katie sprawled in an unruly way beneath her doomsday tarp, there are also, happy, pleasant remembrances of Katie.

As I speak, I try to push the horrible picture out of my mind, to remember, foaling her “black beauty” in the deathly silence of a thunderstorm, brining to us, finally, the promise of a foal. The first one any of us had ever seen. I still remember her face, now dimmed by tears, as she nuzzled her foal on that beautiful, happy day.

Can we put what we have seen behind us, and remember the good? That is the question...

In Loving Memory Of Katie...

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