The seventeenth of June. For fifteen years, that was the most important day of my life, because this date meant, that Poseidon and I, had made it through another year. The seventeenth of June. It was his birthday.
The horse that was beaten, tied up, isolated… The two year old stallion I took home, who hadn’t learned to walk, because he had been tied to a wall for the first two years of his life… The horse that taught me everything I know, about myself, about horses, and about training horses.
Every year, for fifteen years, on the seventeenth of June, we had made it through another year. For us, living day to day, hour to hour, every time we crossed this date, it felt surreal. A whole year gone by again, for the horse that should have been put down when it was four, and everybody told me to let it have peace before it killed me.
Now, he is gone, at long last, we came to our journeys end in the spring of 2012. At long last, I could no longer keep him with me, as his body failed. So instead, I wrote his story down. And I know, he is not on the cover, that got to be Saleem. For a long while, I did want Poseidon on the cover of Surviving the Equestrian World, but the truth is, as much as he inspired this book, as much as he earned the cover space, it would have been wrong to have his face one it, for one reason only. Poseidon was not this face.
I have said that before, and I never questioned it. Poseidon was a soul on fire, trapped in this shell of a body. Poseidon was a feeling, a touch of sunlight, a strong wind blowing through my heart, a fire in the distance, impossible to pin down, dangerous to play with, but magnificent all the same. No picture ever captured the essence of this horse.
I looked at this face every single day for fifteen years, and looking at these pictures now, this is not my horse. Without the raw power, the energy flow that always emanated around him, this is just a picture of some pretty, red horse.
Poseidon and I were one soul, torn in two. The memory of his soul is much stronger, than the memory of his body, even though I have a lot of pictures of him.
If he had been alive today, he would have turned nineteen.
Happy birthday, darling. I hope you are okay. I know you hated when I asked you that. I hated when I asked you that. Still, that is, I think, what I have said to you the most. “Are you okay?” I always wondered about you. Always worried. And I was always terrified that today, would be the day, where the honest answer was no. No, you were not okay. No, I would have to let you go.
Still, I really do hope you are okay, grazing by the rainbow bridge, next to Amalia, Apollon and Lise. Please be kind to Legacy. You just never did too well, without me, planning your days into the smallest detail, to make sure nothing happened you couldn’t handle.
I am editing the Danish version of Surviving the Equestrian World at the moment, and I know, I wanted it released today, because it was your birthday, like I had the English version released on April 23, the day you left this world behind for good. I won’t make it though. I simply haven’t had time to meet this date, and Lulu is still unable to fix their cover designer.
It will get here though, my love. The world will know your story some day. I promise.
Take care, until we meet again. I’ll find you. I always do.
Surviving the Equestrian World;