Cuna

A guest post from my good friend Ellie. I'm wide awake at 3am, but I can't put words together.

 

Today, the world lost the best giant red horse that ever existed. The best horse I never owned. The unshakeable, unstoppable force that was--that is--Hakuna Matata. 




 
 Oh, Cuna. What can I say about him? There aren’t enough adjectives.





 
I have been on Team Cuna since the beginning, when my good friend Aimee first started riding him and I somehow ended up as their biggest fan and personal photographer. I’m not going to pretend that I can articulate, or even know what he meant to her. But for me, watching them evolve into the incredible team they became made me believe that hard work and teamwork could make anything possible. He changed my mind about Thoroughbreds, OTTBs in particular. He inspired me to want to ride again. He helped me learn how to take the perfect dramatic headshot. He put up with all our silly photo shoot ideas... as long as enough peppermints were involved.


 
 The universe is a funny place. At the time, it seemed like fate that Aimee and Cuna found each other in the first place. I watched as my friend rediscovered her confidence and love of jumping. I watched Cuna blossom from a cranky, nondescript old red Thoroughbred into a shiny, sculpted show jumping machine. No, he never really liked dressage, but he was willing to try his hardest for her. It was something intangibly special to watch them get better and braver and more connected over the course of their time together. It felt like a privilege.

 
 It is a sad fact that the universe can be as cruel as it is kind. Of course, good things can’t last forever, but I wish with all my heart that Aimee and Cuna could have had a little longer together. They still had shit to do. Last May, Cuna came up lame. Then he came up REALLY lame. It became apparent over the following months that he wasn’t going to get better. The best case scenario would be to keep him as comfortable as possible. Aimee did everything she could. In the beginning, Cuna took care of her. Now it was her turn. Unfortunately, it has become clear that the kindest thing to do for him is to end his suffering. Rationally, I know that is true. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

 
Even though I’ve come to terms with it, it feels wrong. I shouldn’t have to talk about this horse in past tense. If anyone could have kicked laminitis and Cushings in the ass, it was him. I guess sometimes, life has other plans. It doesn’t feel right. It’s not fair. It can’t be, but it is. I can hardly wrap my mind around it. My heart is in pieces. I am thankful to have been able to see him one more time this past November, and finally get to be with him on the other side of the camera. I will treasure those photos forever.

 
 No, he wasn’t my horse. But I loved him like he was. Thank you, Aimee, for letting me be a part of your journey together. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there today. Go easy, red man, I was lucky to have known you.

 
 Team Cuna to the end.