The first time I ever saw your face, Duende, I was so stunned by your beauty, my breath caught in my throat. You were just 3 months old laying in a stall with your mom and popped up your head to see who was coming through your barn.

I was not looking for a horse for myself but for my friend. We had gone to the lovely Cocolalla Creek Sport Horse Farm to look at horses and since it was July, Marion, the owner, had several fantastic babies. Looking at you I was sure I had never seen a more awe-inspiring baby horse ever. I was also sure you were out of my league and could not afford such an exquisite horse. Not 2 months later I had the money, finished building the baby stall, and had my fences baby proof. (Ha) It was like all the stars lined up and the doors opened, so by your 6 month birthday you were on your way home.

I must go back and remember the first time we, my baby girl, felt that deep connection...the one we shared all your short 9 1/2 years. I had gone to visit you while you were being weaned and the owner of this ranch told me how you cried every night for your mom. As you stood in the pasture, I walked up to you and wrapped my arms around you whispering that you never need worry again, that I will be your mom and you'll never be without love again. In that instant, while you stood completely still, listening, I fell in love with you. The love poured from me to you in that hug and you felt it...I know.

Then when Marion brought you home, you were hustled directly from the trailer into your stall. By the time you got there, you realized you were alone without your horse buddy. You began to cry, and Marion in a hurry ,told me not to go in there for a while. By the time she drove out the driveway, I was with you. Once again, I instinctively wrapped my arms around you, you suddenly quieted, and there was that feeling of warmth and love that passed between us. You didn't cry that night or ever again.

These are the things I want to remember of you..of us. Right here, right now is too painful missing you and your perfect self.

To anyone who reads this, I know you know. There is no way out of this grief. In time, I hope your suffering is replaced by the joyous memories only you two shared. We still have all that love. We've been incredibly blessed.

In honor and memory of Donna Duende.

Christine H.