Rollo

Rollo's story

I met Rollo when I was 12 years old. He was a boarder at my barn, and from the moment I met him, I was completely obsessed with him in the way only a young teenage girl can be. Since he wasn't my horse, I wasn't allowed to ride him at first, but that never really mattered to me. Whenever I had the chance, I would groom him, wash his legs, hand graze him, or simply spend time standing beside him. Being with him was enough. I still remember the first day I was finally allowed to ride him. I was beyond excited and took countless photos because I wanted to remember every second. He was the definition of a gentleman. He took care of me every ride, forgiving every mistake and giving me confidence I didn't even know I had. Jeanie, his owner, was incredibly generous and let me ride him often, but if I'm honest, riding him was only part of what made him so special to me. Some of my favorite memories are the quiet ones: spending hours washing his legs, brushing him until he gleamed, or just leaning against him after a long day. He became my safe place during some of the hardest years of my life. In early 2022, I remember standing nearby while the vet examined him. His arthritis had progressed, along with several other health issues, and that day the decision was made to retire him. It was the same day my pony Tigerlily was diagnosed with founder, a diagnosis that would take her life only a month later. It felt like my world was shifting all at once. Retirement suited Rollo in the best way. For two beautiful years, he soaked up everything he loved: endless treats, sunny days outside, scratches, and all the attention he could get. He remained the same stoic horse he had always been. Even when something hurt, he rarely let it show. He colicked a few times during retirement, and the last time, we brought him to the veterinary hospital so they could run more tests. I went with him that day, kissed him goodbye, and fully expected to see him back at the barn a day or two later. Instead, he passed away the next morning at 6:30 a.m. from sepsis. I was on my way to a horse show when I got the call. I wasn't there with him. No one was. That thought has stayed with me ever since. I think about that morning more often than I'd like, wondering if he was scared, wishing I could have been there to tell him how deeply he was loved. But when I think of Rollo, I try not to let that be the memory that defines him. I think about the little girl who couldn't stop talking about him. I think about all the hours spent washing his legs, the quiet afternoons in the barn, the rides that made me feel fearless, and the comfort he gave me without ever asking for anything in return. Rollo helped carry me through some of the hardest years of my life. He taught me patience, kindness, and what it means to love an animal with your whole heart. There will never be another horse like him. I miss him every single day, and I always will.