A Special Tribute

27/09/11

A great and noble soul passed on to a higher level yesterday at the tender age of 24 years.

Strong and powerful with outstanding good looks, he caught the eye immediately with his commanding presence and charisma. He could be willful, almost stubborn, but playful and good natured.

Biggles was a 16 hand, bay, three quarter thoroughbred.

It was twenty years ago when this easy going youngster came to live with us, and the attraction we felt for him then has grown stronger every moment since. Although my dear wife Jayne rode him occasionally at first, he was always really my horse. We eventually came to realise that his apparent awkwardness was in fact a strength of spirit, and demanded a higher level of horsemanship from me. In that way he was a school-master, and I became his sole pupil.

I was a fairly inexperienced rider in those early days, and Biggles knew it: the times he would make a fool of me, or highlight my short-comings created frustration, and - I confess - at times, anger. But each time I chastised him - verbally, always - and almost always quite unfairly - he would gently point out my error, with a patient, tolerant acceptance that I still had much to learn.

If ever Biggles thought you were displeased with him, he would at once seek to give you one of his big loves - rubbing that great noble head up and down your chest, arms, shoulders, back, anywhere to show he bore no malice. Never in all those wonderful years did he ever display any animosity, bad behaviour, neither to me, nor to anyone else - not even to a former, uninspiring vet.

He was loved by, and loving to every member of the family, but the bond which grew between he and I was one which only comes from shared adventures and mutual trust. I became the navigator and Biggles was the pilot: I never led him into danger, and he carried me safely wherever I asked him to go.

For all my years, and life experience, it was from Biggles that I truly learned patience, forgiveness, empathy, appreciation of others (be they human or animal).

I walked the dogs through the woods today, alone, as a sort of therapy, and still found myself assessing the suitability of the trail for rides which now we'll only have in my imagination. Part way along, it suddenly came to me that in all of my life, the friendship I shared with Biggles, I have only known with my soul-mate and wife, Jayne, and now I feel growing with our elder daughter as she matures into womanhood.

These intense relationships of true Love are tempered like steel through mountains climbed, dangers faced, fears overcome, respect earned and given, together; being prepared to reveal who you are in complete honesty and transparency, nothing hidden in reserve, knowing your vulnerability will not be exploited, but revered.

These are the sort of lessons that my dear friend Biggles taught me. He did not simply inspire me to be a good rider, but so often his lessons had a wider meaning in everyday life. Many times a perhaps trivial incident on a ride would return to me in an idle moment with startling poignancy as piercing illustration of another context.

The competition set would regard Biggles as nothing out of the ordinary, but as we passed by, I could sense people noticing him, and I would smile inside with a special sense of pride, because I knew just how very special he was in fact. A professional horse jumper who ‘trained’ Biggles for about six weeks described him as “a bit dour”, but I came to regard this nonchalance as part of his easy-going nature. At times he seemed as stubborn as a mule, but this simply demanded more tact and skill from me. At other times he would deliver the finest ride anyone could ever wish for.

The night before he moved on to his next level, I was able to sit with him on the stable floor, gazing into those soft brown trusting eyes remembering, re-living, reviewing wonderful moments shared together. And I said to him, that wherever he went, whatever his next incarnation, throughout his journey, I would always be a part of him, as he will always be a part of me.

Most of all he was bred to enjoy life. Not for Biggles the preening and poncing of the ‘show’. Yes, he loved to jump, but for his pleasure, not to show off. His greatest enjoyment was thundering down the lovely three-quarter mile beach nearby, at the edge of the surf with the sun on his back, ears pricked forward and the wind in his mane. It was tremendous enjoyment for me too: I could not describe the fantastic power beneath me, the exhilaration of lying on the neck of this magnificent creation of Nature at 20-25 miles per hour with absolute trust in his sureness of gait.

As I re-read that last sentence, my heart swells up into my throat – and it is from that heart, with all the Love and humble appreciation for his loyal friendship that I will forever remember him. Thanks for the privilege, Biggs: Godspeed.

xXx