Dakota...

He came to Sabbath Rest Farm nearly starved. Every bony knob on his spine and every rib could be counted. Covered in rain rot, his hair came out when I washed him for the first time. He stood patiently letting me doctor his sore places, clean his hooves, and scratch his sweet spots as a reward. He was tall and rangy, red body with a blonde mane. His wise old eyes had seen it all and his courtly manner disguised a wicked sense of humor. When Michael and I rode together, Junie B was on her best behavior because he was beside her. His name was Dakota and he died Saturday night. A cerebral hemorrhage or a stroke... he laid down and died before the vet could get to him. His timing, as always, was impeccable.
This morning I walked to the gate where Dixie, Junie B, Shirley and Kate waited for me. We stood with our heads nestled together feeling the empty space in our hearts. No jostling or pushing or shoving this morning, just sorrow and a need to be close. Dakota was Dixie’s stablemate, her companion, her friend at their previous home. Every morning, they ate breakfast standing side by side. Today, she had Junie B standing by her side.
The animals are not the only ones grieving his death. He was beloved by our friends and neighbors. Vince, Tina, and Mama brought him treats regularly... apples, pears, carrots... and he accepted them as his due with gratitude. David and Diane, Gary and Leisa picked him out as their favorite, too. Grandchildren had ridden on his high horse back squealing in glee as he loped and trotted, holding on and having the time of their lives. Whenever anyone came to the fence, Dakota was always ready for a visit.
When we took him in, someone asked me why in the world would we want such an old, sick horse. I thought we took him because we pitied him. The truth of the matter, though, is Dakota had some lessons to teach me before he died. Here is what I learned.
Lesson number one... Dignity matters. Even when you are broken down, sick and weary, how you behave matters. Stand as tall as you can and don’t whine.
Lesson number two... Accept help graciously, and remember who you are. Try not to nip the hand that feeds you. Help sometimes comes from those who mean well even if they are ignorant, so cut others a little slack.
Lesson number three... Always lean into the top rail on the fence. Sometimes it will break and you can go to greener pastures. Don’t let fences keep you from moving out into new territory. If you put all your weight behind your best efforts, sometimes you can succeed even if it looks impossible.
Lesson number four... Stay connected to your herd. When I would go out in the evenings to gather the horses up from their free range grazing, Junie B was brought in first. Dakota was second. All the way to the barn, he would stop every now and then to whinney loudly, calling to Dixie, “Come home.” And she would come flying up, mane blowing, hooves pounding as she ran next to him on the way to the barn.
Lesson number five... Even when love hurts because of loss, it is always, always worth it. I am a better person because I was given the gift of Dakota’s presence in my life. His horse sense will continue to guide me as I live with Junie B and Dixie. When I look out my kitchen window in the morning, I will always see Dakota standing at the fence, his head hanging over the top rail, patiently waiting for a pat and a snack... Good by and Godspeed, Dakota. Thanks for being my teacher and friend.