Nothing dramatic or violent, just old age. Ginger was 30, which in horse years is a lot. She's the first horse my family ever owned and she's always been the lead mare. She moved with them from The Real Desert and through every subsequent move Ginger has managed to stay in charge and manage the other, younger mares.
She had her share of horse challenges, getting strangles and a weird growth on her face that had to be removed a couple of times.
She was a tough old thing, never one for nuzzling in the hopes of a treat, but I think she was glad IHW was there at the end, holding her head and stroking her neck.
For IHW, it's not the sort of Valentine's Day I would wish on anyone.
And yet...
Her faith and trust blew me away, as she sat in the corral, stroking Ginger's head. She prayed and asked that Heavenly Father heal her horse or take her quickly so that she wouldn't suffer anymore.
"He knows best," she said when it was over.
That's some kind of strength.
This is me, rest in peace Ginger.
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