Literati!
I am pleased to submit our first contest entry, this one by our long-time friend A Word with You Press, Wendy Joseph. The pump is primed–please comment to begin connecting with fellow writers and submit you own entries. Details on the home page… Thanks, Wendy!
Jubilee
by Wendy Joseph
She defined nobility with how she held her head, uplifted, a little to one side. She came from a long line of undisputed champions, Thoroughbreds. Whirlaway, her half-brother by their joint sire Blenheim II, won the Triple Crown. And she was mine.
I was ten years old. (1962)
After financial setbacks, her original owner, fearing Jubilee would be slaughtered as she wasn’t a good broodmare and would therefore be useless to race horse breeders, turned Jubilee’s registration papers into the dead horse file so she could no longer be sold as a Thoroughbred. Her value went correspondingly down, and by the time I got her, she cost only $300.
I didn’t know her pedigree then but I knew she was magnificent. Fast, faster, fastest, she surged forward, unstoppable. Soon there was nothing ahead but her pointed ears, her flying mane, and the wind.
She reached twenty years old and still hale. Then arthritis got her. She went downhill like a jet diving, went off her feed and got miserably thin. I stroked her gently, held her lowered head as she pressed it against me, watched her, still standing when she could no longer walk. Thoroughbreds never quit. We did everything we could until there was nothing left to do. And then one day I went into an empty stall. They had taken her away to be euthanized and I never got to say goodbye. I ran my hands over her invisible form and wept.
I had cut part of her forelock once to pin to my wall. I kept it, tucked it in a box when I moved, and went on with living.
Then one day I opened the box and saw Jubilee’s forelock again, the only part I had left of her. I held it and remembered.
I found out about a horse rescue farm nearby; it took in abused horses and brought them back to health and a promising life. I hadn’t been able to save Jubilee, but maybe I could help save them. It was satisfying work, and one horse in particular was special.
Her name was Mahina, Hawaiian for the Moon, and she was a fine black mare who had come in nervous and intractable from abuse, but was slowly coming to trust humans again. We were told to keep our distance. I did until her caregiver led her by one day, when something unfathomable led me up to her and I leaned against her, stroking her neck.
And Mahina, the horse so wary of people she would jump away, stood there quietly, then put her head gently over my shoulder and pulled me into hers. Those around us stood in near-shock.
I didn’t know Mahina was going to fall in love with me. She is well on her way to being a fine saddle horse again, and I have a warmth inside for this affectionate mare.
But there was only one Jubilee and no horse will ever take her place.
it seems Wendy was the original horse-whisperer. A lovely story.
Hello Wendy!
It is such a pleasure to see your submission! You have expressed an endearing story, depicting the reality of life and how we learn it’s fragile process….
Although I have never experienced this bond with an animal, I am touched at how you wrote about your connection with Jubilee and Mahini. I have read reports of how horses are especially given to energetic healing with humans. I find this amazing.
Very tender story.
Hope to read more of your work!
Dude, I promise I’m still alive!
Horses are magnificent creatures! They truly are majestic, and when one loves you, a sacred connection is forged. You may feel you only saved one horse, but you loved two. That’s more than enough. I’m so glad to hear from you again <3
Thanks, Mimi. Jubilee was my only friend for many years. She taught me about courage, about going on when you can’t. I hold her lessons to this day. I’m glad the story touched you. One thing that wasn’t clear in the story was that it seemed to imply Mahina would be my horse. No, she is being groomed (pun intended) to be adopted by a good owner who will treat her with all the love we at the rescue give her. She is special to all of us. She was rescued in an abuse seizure where she was literally the last horse standing, and barely so; the rest were dead. You see how she is now in the picture. I wish the picture of me and Jubilee wasn’ t so blurry; my memories of her are in fine focus.
Mimi, I especially like how this story has a twist at the end…not only was Jubilee your first love, but it seems you were Mahina’s first love, paying it forward! That’s noble work you did for the horses, and noble writing.
Wendy, of course !!
Love transcends. This is a wonderful reminder the power of love and patience and that all things deserve a little gentleness.