Listen here:

By the time my sweet, salty half-Arabian mare, Sally, passed away in April 2025, I’d spent plenty of time thinking about what her replacement—if there would be one—might look like.  I had owned Sally since 2006, and she had set a high standard for any future horse. But in the last few years of her life, multiple health problems had left Sally fully and permanently retired. As a result, I spent many hours contemplating how life might look after she was gone. The moment of her death, when it came, brought relief as well as sadness.

Looking to the future

Once I was past the worst of my grieving, I was ready to think about the future. I started by returning to the notes I had made for myself during Sally’s last years. Briefly, I considered getting out of horses. I could sell my young horse, Bucky, and find companion homes for my two donkeys. That, I reasoned, would free up some much-needed space in my very full schedule. However, my horses help keep me sane, so it didn’t take long for me to drop that idea.

A more appealing option was to find a suitable replacement for Sally. But what would that look like? I set about documenting my criteria for a new horse. Along with basic physical standards—such as soundness and good health—my list of priorities in- cluded “solid, safe, confident, reliable, experienced and dependable.”

The search

I kept an open mind about where I might find my next horse, combing through sales ads and listings of adoptable rescue horses. I inquired about several candidates but found no good match for many months. Then, one day I dis-covered an ad for a grade Quarter Horse gelding that checked almost all my boxes. I became increasingly excited when I called to confirm the details with the horse’s owner, and I set up an appointment to visit.

Meeting Basil in person, I was elated. At 15 hands, he’s compact but athletic, and he exudes calm and trustworthiness. He also has what I describe as “good handle.” He is soft and responds to the aids with a willing, workmanlike attitude. I knew from the moment I sat on him that he was “the one.”

A worthy successor

Months after his arrival, Basil is firmly ensconced at my farm. Yet I’m still as excited as a schoolgirl when I head down to the barn to see him. With him, I now have opportunities to ride with friends, explore new territory and focus on my riding in ways I haven’t been able to for a long time. I’m delighted with him on every level. Basil is very different from Sally but shares many of her best attributes. He has a soft jog and smooth lope. And no matter the task—bringing up some cattle, going out for a trail ride or working in the arena—he is compliant and steady.

One evening, as I led Basil back to his pasture after a ride, I found myself reflecting on Sally’s life and death. She had taught me many lessons in our 19 years together and I now recognized the one last blessing that she has bestowed. Her final gift was to enable me to remember her last years of illness and infirmity in a different, more favorable light.

As her body failed and she was able to do less and less, Sally eased me into a future without her, giving me the time and space to accept and move forward— a fitting ending to a life well-lived.