Many of us in the Brookswood area have three old pals. These friends are all standardbred mares whose role in life has been to produce trotting horses that pull the buggies and drivers around the Cloverdale track.
Soon the triangular field under the power lines on 42nd Avenue will be vacant.
Many of us will miss the whinny greeting we receive as the mares parade to the fence to receive whatever treats are in store for them. I always provide horse pellets and a lump of sugar for dessert.
Soon this delightful pleasure will be over, the field will be empty, and the mares will become memories.
The reason is for the good of them all, I suppose.
The youngest of the mares is going to be saddle-broken and ridden. Her mother is being sent to be the companion of a lonely horse, and â€œold ma,â€ as I call her, the matriarch of the brood, as well as being the mother of one and the granny of the other, is going to meet her Maker.
The sad reason, for this, I understand, is that she has an incurable illness and is in pain.
These horse-gals will remain in the hearts of many in joy and sadness. Thanks for the memories.
Mike Harvey, Langley