...Beau. His name was Beau. He was old with a sway back and not much use for farm work anymore.
Still his owners loved him, as much for his gentle disposition as for the devotion he had shown them over the years. The old farm was sold off, a bit here, a piece there until it was almost entirely surrounded by roads and businesses. The family moved on leaving this old barn behind.
Now old Beau was a creature of habit. The new barn just did not feel quite right. Oh, it smelled better and was a lot less drafty but it did not feel like home. Of course, living out on the new land meant he would not be able to watch the streams of cars that passed each day, some which held passengers that waved and shouted a friendly hello. Oh and how he missed the children
from the near by Day Care Center. On nice days, group of giggling boys and girls would venture out to visit, always bringing a carrot, an apple and little hands that scratched where it itched.
Nope, this new place was just not home. So Beau pined. He sulked. He refused to eat. In a desperate attempt to appease the old horse, his owners brought him back to the ramshackle barn on the corner of the busy intersection. Beau came back to life! He ate like a...a...well, a horse!
He whinnied at passing cars. He gleefully trotted up to the fence when his friends came to call.
He was happy. When it began to get dark, or when the skies threatened rain, Beau pushed the door to the barn aside with his nose and went into his stall. At night the owners came to visit and tuck him in, well, so to speak. Each morning they came to unlock the barn and bring the old horse his breakfast.
Beau was happy. He was content. He was loved. One late November morning the owners came to unlock the barn door and Beau did not greet them. The old man had died in his sleep. He was laying on the sweet smelling hay surrounded by the home he loved so much. The owners told how it looked as if he was smiling.
It was mid December and getting quite cold. Snow flakes were beginning to fall, mixed with icy pellets that bounced off the hood of my car and tapped at the windows. The over cast gloom matched my gray mood. I had enjoyed seeing Beau as I passed by his corner. He always lifted my spirits and I was now dreading the sight of that empty field. The lonely barn. I began to cry in anticipation of it. Then something caught my eye. There, flapping in the winter wind, were Christmas bows. 20 or 30 of them. Red, green, silver, gold. Bows of every size and shape tied to the fence. Beau's fence.
The children, the sweet children from the Day Care Center had wanted to do something to remember their friend. Bows for Beau. Such a sweet and innocent gesture.
The next morning there were 20 or 30 more. That evening, another 10. The next day 30 more
appeared. Soon the rickety old fence would be covered in holiday finery. Bows for Beau. There were notes and children's drawings. Photographs and stuffed horses. It was a precious memorial for a horse that had come to mean so much to so many.
You may be surprised at what can bring a community together. Sometimes all that is needed is the love of an animal. The love of a horse named Beau.
