by Molly Reiter
On September 3rd of 1998 we had to put Jezzie to sleep - two days after being diagnosed with cancer. She was only 14, and I was looking forward to many, many more years of her companionship. Her willingness to please me showed until the end; exactly one week prior to her death we were competing in a horse show not knowing about her illness. She was so beautiful and her super-soft, shiny, coppery coat made your eyes squint when the sun bounced off her. She was the sweetest horse I have ever been around, she always greeted me when I went to the pasture, she always had a smile on her face; she seemed like she was always happy to see me. She also taught me more than any other horse has - it's funny I thought I was supposed to teach her things. When two trainers blew her off as too stubborn (and other words I shouldn't mention) to learn, I took it as an opportunity to figure out why she was like that. It took me a long time to understand her, but when I did, we had a better relationship than I have with most of my human friends. Jezzie was very intelligent, I believe she considered herself as my equal. She had a powerful determination to do as she pleased and I just had to deal with it, for she was much stronger. I came to admire her mind and stubbornness, her thought process was amazing. I trusted her with my life, just as she trusted me, jumping all those fences. Sometimes I would get us to a bad distance from a fence, where any other horse would have refused, she still jumped. She was certainly wonderful; the most amazing horse.
I miss you, Jezzie, more than I can even explain, you are on my mind every single day. If only I could pet your soft coat and kiss your nose again. As I said to you on that day, I will see you again sometime. I love you. Pepper misses you also.