Kirkepiscatoid

Revelation 6:2:

"I looked, and there was a white horse! Its rider had a bow; a crown was given to him, and he came out conquering and to conquer."

I just learned that my surrogate uncle had to put down his beloved horse Frosty. She was 33 years old, which is like 110 in horse years. The photo, taken in 1996, is one of my favorite pics of the two of them. My surrogate uncle looks like the Marlboro man's riding buddy, Frosty looks like her old confident self, and although the photo was taken in their pasture here in Kirksville, it looks like something right out of a western movie.

Frosty was a Missouri Fox Trotter, a breed developed here in Missouri to give the rider a smooth ride and a speedy flat trot for traversing the hills and property lines around farms expediently, particularly in the hilly Ozarks. Although some other horse-o-philes (particularly American Saddlebred owners) often make fun of their "doggy little fox trot", once you've ever gotten astride a fox trotter, and ridden that rocking-chair like trot of theirs, you'll never go back. It has been called "the common man's pleasure horse."

Frosty came from the Moberly area, and had previously been owned by the parents of our former Missouri state senator. She was pushing 20 when they got her, but she quickly became one of the favorite mounts of young and old in the family alike. Even though my surrogate uncle's present mount, Governor, is a more attractive horse (Governor is a palomino), Frosty was a much better size-matched mount for him. I remember my late grandmother giving him hell for riding Governor in a parade once, instead of Frosty. She said, "Governor's too small for you. A big man should be on a big horse." For a Fox Trotter, Frosty WAS a big horse.

Although Frosty could get in a snit now and then (she did not like other horses following her too closely on trails) she was an easy ride, and a sensible horse. That's saying a lot in the horse world. That's saying a lot in the people world. If only we could go to our reward with everyone saying we were "good and sensible horses", what a life we would have led!

Rest in peace, Frosty.