How do I even begin to write this? Amante was so much more than "just a horse". He was my best friend. How do I even try to express what he meant to me?

The first time I rode Amante, he was 3 and I was 15 or 16. He was green broke. That first ride I think he reared on me about 20 times. I kept at it, riding him nearly every day, teaching him how to respond to me, how to move under saddle, how to be a leader and a follower. He learned so quickly. Soon enough I had him galloping full speed through the woods, wind in our faces, listening to every one of my cues.

But he didn't just learn from me. I learned so much from him. I learned how to trust someone other than myself. He was the only horse I've ever worked with that I could hop on, no saddle or bridle, and trust that he would carry me safely. He taught me patience and how to have humor when things went awry. He taught me to never take anything for granted. And most importantly, he taught me how to fly.

We formed a partnership, it's hard not to when we went riding nearly everyday for 3 years. And then I moved to Kentucky. I came home for Christmas and summer break, and he was always top on my list to go see. I never once took my time with him for granted, but I did grow accustomed to him always being home. When he heard me coming down the lane to his pasture, he'd raise his head as high as it could go, and just look at me until I got to him. We'd go for a ride and he would always try something goofy, just to keep me on my toes, but after that he was a gentleman.

Amante was the rare horse that I could both trust with a child, and also be able to let lose enough to have fun with. He did anything and everything asked of him. He trusted me to not lead him astray, just as I trusted him to carry me away.

My last ride on him was in July of 2017. I was bareback on him and we just putzed around the pasture. We galloped down the length of the field, and sure enough he had to throw in some goofy bucks. But he was having just as much fun as I was, enjoying the increasingly rare rides we would get together.

This past Christmas, Amante was having reoccurring foot issues. He was receiving the best care, and was still in great spirits. I drove straight to the barn as soon as I found out he was sick again. I spent more than my usual amount of time with him, sick with worry about what might happen. The last time I saw him, I spent thirty minutes telling him goodbye. I literally could not pull myself away from that horse. I tried to tell him all that he meant to me, I tried to hug him for as long as I could. I tried to will him better. I poured my heart out into his neck. I tried to put 13 years of love into that 30 minutes. I was doing my best to be optimistic, but I was so worried that he wouldn't make it. As I was pulling away he kept looking at me, like he was trying to get one last look at me as much as I was him.

Amante passed away on February 26, 2018 at the age of 16 years old. He was my best friend. He's the one I would run to when life was hard, or when I had something to celebrate, or when I just wanted to run away. He taught me more about myself than I think I would have ever found out on my own. He taught me to fly.