24/10/2026
Written for WH Pixie, on 10/10: heart weary, so have taken awhile to post:
“I am matriarch.
I need humans to know who I was.
I am WH Pixie.
I got to mid thirties Earthbound.
Grew my wings yesterday.
Arthritis buggered up my legs, but the hoomans did what they could, with supplements, meds and so much love, I couldn’t stayed Earthbound forever.
But my legs, on Wednesday, wouldn’t let our trimmer trim my feet, and my best friend, WH Jasper, passed away on Thursday, so that was it.
I said my goodbyes to my mates, and was surrounded by both hooman and equine friends, as Dr Alice helped me transition.
I want you to know about me.
I may have been “long in the tooth”, but man, I still had my groove.
How did I find my way to Winged Horse? Well, a lovely lady called Jill, had adopted mini girl, WH Moon, to keep another mini company.
Sadly, poor Jill developed cancer, and needed to rehome her loved animals. Ha ha, silly Carolyn thought Jill wanted the mini and WH Moon to go to WH.
A volunteer offered to go to collect the “mini”, plus tiny WH Moon. Upon their return, Carolyn was apparently washing dishes in the cottage, as the float drove past, with the previous cargo on board.
The story goes, that Carolyn audibly exclaimed “why can I see a chestnut butt”, as the tail end of the float rambled past.
That butt belonged to me, not my mini buddy, who had found another home!
So I was welcomed into the WH fam, and very quickly asserted myself as the Matriarch. Any boyfriends were protected by me, and steered well away from any “over the fence hellos” to anyone I didn’t take a liking to.
I adored WH Keanu, cutest gelding ever, and was a bit miffed when he moved offsite on free lease, but as I had geriatric rights, I got to cruise up and down the laneway, at leisure, saying “hi” to whoever I wanted.
I’d squeak at the mares, and have the occasional Zoomies, much to the delight of the volunteers.
WH Jasper, also a senior gentleman, glued himself to my side, which sometimes annoyed me, but I tolerated his adoration. He was also blind in one eye, so I was patient with him.
Poor little bloke was forever nervy of the hoomans. I tried to show him they’re all good folk at WH, but once bitten, twice shy.
I was most glorious Arab mare, with the best “side eye” ever, and I delighted in boofing unsuspecting volunteers with my head, and/or pretending I didn’t understand ground manners. Barging through people was a slow process, but amused me at times.
Don’t mention my dentition, as my chewing ability was rather shot, but I was fed a divine mash, and I didn’t manage to delete photos that show my “pre feed” yellow-green salivation moustache!
I loved being brushed, had the best liver chestnut glow in Summer, and kept my weight on so well, that I heard so often “omg she can’t be that old”!
I stole everyone’s heart at Winged Horse, and would wait every meal time, up at the white gates, death staring Carolyn if she got chatting with the other vols, as she never knew when to shut up!
Two days ago, Jasper lost his fight with colic, and Dr Alice helped him pass. I miss my little “mini me”.
I’m now at the Pearly Gates, and was asked why, if I was so well cared for, why are so many parts of my mane missing? “A life well lived”, I say, and the gates gently open. Both Jasper and I amble through, both missing bits of mane, both together, onwards, to create chaos in the great Upstairs.”
