To the Person Who Killed My Horse

I started riding Romeo when I was 14 years old. He was also 14. Us being the same age was something I liked about him from the start. It made him feel more like my peer instead of my pet. Shortly after I met him, another quality stuck out to me — his loving demeanor. I’d been riding horses since I was four years old and hadn’t met another horse with a personality like his. It’s why my sister gave him his name. I could feel his love. It felt like he was looking out for me – like he would always make sure everything was okay. His love quickly made him less like a peer and more like a piece of my heart.

It felt like we took on the Arabian horse show world for the next three years. Despite showing since I was four, my nerves never failed to put me in a near-fearful state the second the arena gates would open. But Romeo made me fearless. With him, I knew I would be okay. We took on three Youth Nationals together and took home multiple titles. But the ribbons were just a bonus. Spending time with my best friend gave me irreplaceable joy and memories I will cherish forever.

When I was 17 – and he was 17 – we decided to retire Romeo from the show world. This was a tough decision, but it was the right one. He was ready to move on from that stage in his life, and something to know about Romeo was that though he had a heart of gold, he was also not afraid to show you how he “really felt.” It was easy to tell he no longer found joy in the show area. And that was okay. His happiness was my happiness.

Now I’m 25. Now he is gone. I’ve felt grief before. I’ve lost loved ones, some older and some sudden. Anyone who’s experienced both types knows one feels very different than the other. For the first one – an older loved one passing away – it feels more peaceful because it makes more sense. It was their time. This doesn’t take away the pain, but it’s certainly different from when it’s a younger loved one. One that is suddenly taken away from this earth. In my experience with this type of loss, it was an accident. Something that no one ever intended to happen. It still, and forever, will break my heart.

But this grief is entirely new to me. Losing Romeo was sudden, but it wasn’t an accident. He was an innocent, loving animal – my heart, my best friend, my guardian – that was purposely taken away. For this grief, there is no making sense of it. Why would someone do this? How could someone do this? I keep reaching out for any shred of peace, but there is nothing to grasp. And then I’m hit with the reality that he is gone. It’s a constant cycle of sadness, confusion and disbelief.

Someone purposely inflicted pain on something defenseless. Something innocent. Something that was a piece of my heart and many others. I keep trying to understand why, but I know there is no reasoning. Someone intentionally took him away from us and now away from this world. He was a loving animal with an ending far too cruel. And if someone’s argument is “he was just an animal.” You’re right. He was just an animal. He was an innocent, defenseless animal abandoned and tied to a tree with injuries that killed him.

I know he looked after me. I just wish I could’ve done the same for him. And that’s when I’m struck with another painful reality – there was nothing I could’ve done. A truth that hurts me to my core.

Now I can only hope that there is something that I can do, that we can all do. Romeo is gone, but the people and others capable of doing the same are still out there. Something has to change. There needs to be justice for the animals stolen away from their homes and put in harm’s way – and in Romeo’s case, left to die. There needs to be Justice for Romeo.