In my last entry, I wrote about my longtime dream of living in a place where I could look out my window and see Hurricane in the field. It turns out—suddenly, it feels to me—that is not to be. He died yesterday, after ten days in the vet clinic, from complications of serious colic. For the moment I don’t want to write any more about his death, but rather to say some things about his life, and who he was:
Yesterday we lost the most extraordinary horse I’ve ever known. Hurricane brought me total joy every minute I spent with him, on his back or just being around him, brushing him or taking him for walks. He was a gifted athlete who loved his job—loved jumping and the excitement of shows. He jumped some of the biggest grands prix in the world, always with style and heart. He gave me experiences in the show ring that were some of the best times of my life.
These last few years he spent with Grappa as his pasture mate. A few months ago I ran across their field to visit Grappa, and Hurricane cantered next to me all the way. He was a big personality, so full of life. As fierce as he sometimes looked in his stall, he was sweetly affectionate in his own way, which I loved more than anything. I took it personally when he leaned his head on me, or styled my hair with his slobbery lips, or nuzzled my face, as he did the last morning I spent with him. I will miss him forever. I feel so thankful he was in my life.
