Photo by Audrey Pavia
Bob journey on the lead in Griffith Park , unfazed by traffic on the L.A. pike .
His name was Bob , and he was a bighorse . So big , in fact , that he made my 14.3 handMilagrolook like a mini whenever they mount together down the lead .
Bob was the ultimate urban horse . He lived on a 1/2 - Akka property here in Norco , Calif. , a suburb of Los Angeles , and carry his possessor , Kathy , all over the metropolis trails . Not only that , Bob — who produce up in the Midwest and was used as an Amish plough horse until less than 10 years ago — taught Kathy ’s children and nephews how to ride , comforted nervous horses and rider on trail rides , and contain Kathy to the California State Horsemen ’s Association trail trials championships last free fall . He on a regular basis made trail trial judge do reduplicate occupy as he successfully negociate lead obstacle designed for horse half his size of it .
WhenMilagroand I first decided to tackle trail run , Kathy and Bob were our anchors . Essentially fearless , Bob lead the elbow room through thickly afforest section of unknown trail , through deep and broad water crossing and across scary wooden bridge . Milagro was green and unsure of himself , but after a fistful of lead tribulation with Bob , he found his courage . It was n’t long before Milagro ask Bob if he could take the lead some of the time , and of course Bob graciously said “ yes . ”
But Bob was much more than a lead horse . He also introduced vaulting to delighted kids and adults . This sport , best delineate as gymnastics on horseback , is one of Kathy ’s passions , and Bob was more than happy to oblige .
The last time I saw Bob a couple of month ago , he seemed full of life . Kathy mentioned that he was get some problems with soft stool , but sometimes sure undercut of hay can cause that , and the problem came and went . When I get Kathy ’s email last month that Bob had succumbed to Crab , I was completely astonished . And devastated .
The thought process of never walking down the track with Bob at our side , towering over Milagro and slip all the aid from passersby , was more than I could bear . I would never get splashed by that giant head at community lachrymation trough as Bob played with the water , unmindful to everyone around him . And I would never listen his deep nicker of leave-taking when Kathy would stop at my house and help me unload Milagro from her trailer after a sidereal day of being out on the lead .
My only consolation is knowing Bob is happy somewhere , doing whatever it is horse spirits do when they are free from the constraint of their sadly fallible trunk . But I sure will miss him .
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