Tribute to Morning Mist

“Morning Mist” Owned and Sadly Missed by Amanda Coggins and Family

Morning Mist ~ 1982-2004

Morning Mist came into my life when I was only nine years old. Although she wasn’t my first horse, she was the first horse that was truly “mine.” My parents had decided that it wouldn’t be bad idea to get a more experienced horse for the whole family to ride while we put more work on our green broke standardbred. We were those green horse/green rider people you cringe at (I had only been riding for about a year and a half) and it was evident on one of my first rides on Misty. While I bravely asked this big, powerful animal to trot, I lost my balance and accidentally tugged and kicked in just the right fashion to find myself cantering towards the four-foot arena fence. Up and over we went, I hit the ground in my first fall and my story of Misty began.

Misty was a kind and gentle being. Although she was probably too much horse for me under saddle in those first couple of years, she was the perfect family horse for everyone to love. I developed a very special bond with her.

Misty had many things to teach me. She taught me patience, guts, maturity; she taught me how to feel a proper lateral movement. She taught us all that her stall needed horse-proof latches! Most importantly though, she taught me what it was like to hit the ground and then she taught me what it felt like to soar. She loved to jump. It took me a while to catch on, but she finally finished what seemed like her goal of teaching me to go from a green beginner to showing in the hunters where she knew she belonged. In fact, six years ago she battled back from pneumonia to prove to all of us that the show world hadn’t seen the last of her kindred spirit.

It amazed me that everywhere we went people knew who she was. I had gotten her at when she was fourteen and didn’t realize how much she had done before that. Her passport has placings from crossrail classes to second year green hunters and back again. She also had a stint in the jumpers – and she always seemed to know the difference when she entered the ring. People loved to watch her go and always commented on her floppy ears.

In recent years Misty had been ridden by two other riders, close friends of mine who both agree she was a great horse “willing to put up with us crazies.” In fact, she was often ridden bareback, as her high withers made saddle fitting complicated.

“Mouse” as she was often called was one of those horses who you just wanted to go to when you had a problem. Although she was never the most touchy-feely horse, she had an air about her that let you know she was listening. She always let me curl into the corner of her stall, or take her out for a long walk when I needed to. Her kindness always prompted me to introduce unhorsey friends and visitors to her first, as although she was the biggest, she was the least intimidating in our five-horse herd.

On that cold and windy day, when I felt like I had so much to tell her and no way to communicate it, I thanked her for all that she had taught me. For all she did for me I knew I had to end her suffering as one last gift to her.

March 8^th 2004 will never be forgotten in my mind. It will remain there as a day when I had to say goodbye to a loyal friend, who seemed to be taken from me too soon. But I know she is in a better place now. As the euthanasia took effect though, she did an amazing thing as she rolled on her side… her struggling turned in that smooth rhythmic canter I knew so well, and I knew then she was free.

Although I miss Misty tremendously, I know I’ll always have my memories, and that her memory lives on in the hearts of all the lives she has touched.

Misty, may you rest peacefully, and may Heaven offer you the lush green pastures and colourful oxers you loved here on Earth. I know you must be an angel’s mount now, for you certainly deserve to be.

Many thanks to all who helped us through a difficult time:

Dr. Greg McDowell and the staff of the Fredericton Vet Lab

Allison Stewart

Darryl Pyke

Donnie Pollock

Raymond Nichol

Keri-Anne Boyce

Rian, Matt, Heather, Ruth and Dena

“Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you… I loved you so – ‘twas Heaven here with you.”

~ Isla Paschal Richardson (Thanks Keri-Anne)

To contact us: donna@AtlanticRider.com