Ode

• Mikayla Jones, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2015

The bond I had could never compare to that of a human. The bond I had with her was, unbreakable, like a dog and its bone, the feeling of love we had was enduring, and it could not simply be broken, but only made stronger.
Every Saturday morning I walked up to her and gave her a hug, her returning the favour and nickering softly to show she cared. I had my grooming box and went to her stall, took my body brush and curry comb, and put all my heart and soul into smoothing her beautiful chestnut coat and removing the gritty granules that gripped her coat. I would then comb her light brown mane and braid it to my heart’s content.
It was then time. To get ready, tack up, and lead out to the arena. I took out her well used chestnut saddle and bridle and put it on the edge of the stall. I took out her violet saddle blanket and her purple fly veil that I bought her, I couldn’t settle for less than the best for my pony. The saddle blanket always went on first, then the equalizer (to make the weight of the saddle even on her back), then finally the saddle. I would gently do up the girth as not to hurt her, then it’s time for the bridle. I slipped the bit into her mouth and pulled the headband over her cute little ears. I did up the straps, took the reins and walked her to the front of the stall.
We walked to the arena, she was going quicker and quicker as the excitement of being ridden grew. It was then time to mount the over excited games pony and I never could help myself from letting out a wide grin. I loved this moment. I mounted her. I always felt her like a coiled spring ready to fly. We were told to walk on and came alive and burst into a quick, active walk. After a couple of laps, we progressed forward to a trot. She burst into a quick trot with me sitting atop, rising to her beautiful movement under me. In those moments it was as if I owned her. Like she was mine and I was hers. If only it were possible. If only we had the money to lease her back then. If only I never left her. If only I knew where she was now, the truth about if she is dead or not. Or if she is just in retirement, or if my instructor sold her, or if she was the one who shot her. I guess I will just keep on hoping, keep on praying, that wherever she is, she is ok, and that maybe, just maybe, she will remember me, the way I do her.
Thank you for everything my beautiful girl, my precious Gidget.