10/16/2024
I'm incredibly sad and honestly still shocked to have lost Sicily last night. She passed quickly and without any warning. She didn’t suffer, and by the grace of the universe, she wasn't alone.
Sicily was a friend to everyone she met, especially if they had carrots. She was in charge of her pasture. She gave her friends the best whither scratches. If spooking and running around were going to give her a heart attack, I guess all who ever sat on her should be thankful it happened in the field with her friends and not while riding.
She came into the world in the middle of the night to a mare who had no clue how to or why she should let her nurse. She was sweet as honey to all of her human friends and took great pride in tormenting her poor, exhausted momma who, with Sicily being her first foal, didn’t let her stray too far And stray Sicily did. Her poor mom never got a moments rest. I think she was thankful when we weaned her. She grew up beside her friend, Boo who was born that July, and was feisty from the get-go.
As a 4-year-old, Sicily graduated to keeping her riders on their toes. She was surprisingly level-headed to start under saddle. When she did her first canter with a rider, it was my friend, Dorothy, in the irons because she's was, and still is, a lot smaller than me. Sicily was perfect. When Dorothy stopped, she said, "Well, I didn’t die. But she's got a REALLY nice smooth canter!" Dorothy rode her while she was in town, and then I took back over her training when she left. It wasn't long after that when Cathi started riding with us.
She fell in love with Sicily, and the bond was unmistakable. Had you asked me to find a horse for Cathi, a fit adult amateur getting back into riding, I never would have said, "Hey! Let's go shopping for a 4-year-old, chestnut, Arabian mare!" But there they were, falling for each other and making it work. They were perfect for each other, taking turns who lifted who up, who was to be the stubborn one that day. If anyone could teach you how to sit a spook with a little (or sometimes really big) buck and a bolt, it was Sicily.
Cathi kept Sicily at home here with us at BEC her entire life, except for hurricanes and horseshows. When Cathi was traveling, others would have the privilege of learning how good Cathi's seat was when Sicily would hear a noise or get startled by a small child running around. Sicily is THE ONLY REASON we have plastic hay cans instead of metal hay cans. Plastic was quieter in the back of the golf cart...safer for all involved.
If you had me make a list of the order-of-go, with all of our "mature" horses and rescues and ragamuffins, Sicily wouldn't have even come to mind. Spicy redheads are supposed to outlive us all. But I guess she didn't get the memo. We're all still in shock. It doesn't feel real.
Sicily was loved by so many. Sharon, who used to come and teach at the farm, really loved teaching Cathi and Sicily and would often ask about her even when Cathi wasn't participating in a particular clinic. I hope they found each other. If anyone can, I know Sharon can handle her antics.
RIP Sicily
March 12, 2012-October 15, 2024