I miss sweet Chip. He was the only horse I ever really loved. He left me in October ‘24.

I can press my face anywhere against Chip’s soft velvety muzzle while he relaxes in the crisp morning sun, or a windy evening, or a snowy afternoon. I can feel his warm, moist exhalations on my cheeks, and he often will nibble at me while he speaks in his quiet, chuckling voice near my ear. We have had many conversations without ever needing words. He rarely makes the choice to move away from my attentions but rather seeks them out. He isn't following me hoping for snacks, because unlike other horses, Chip doesn't have molars and can't chew. He doesn't get carrot and apple bits from my pockets like the others.

The dark brown of his thick, shaggy bay-colored winter coat is falling away with the approach of spring, revealing the bright coppery hue of fine slick hairs underneath. At about 23 years old, he has seen a lot of action, raising 6 kids in 4H rodeo for many long years, and now has a retirement home with me. He is still willing and able to take me on leisurely rides, but does tend to get a little spunky if I give him free rein to move how he likes.

This summer I so much look forward to some easy trail riding in the cool shade beneath the dense green pines and firs of the north Idaho forest. I imagine we will bird watch and look for wildlife. We will sniff flowers and revel in the smell of composting leaf litter. We will look at butterflies on ferns and listen to the sounds so different than our farm. The forest floor is soft and easy on the old man’s feet. Chip will enjoy pretending to graze on the sweet green grass of meadows while I eat lunch from my pack with whatever friends have joined us. But alas, our summer riding season is far from here. Snow is expected in a few days, so for now, I will just enjoy his soft, messy pony kisses in the yard.