04/06/2023
RIP Our Sweet Fritz March 2023
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Fritz. He was grazing contentedly with his friends, his long graceful neck stretching down to savor bright green spring grass. No wait, can’t be. Can’t be Fritz…he crossed the Rainbow Bridge and was buried a couple of days ago. I look again and see the two round minis, Caroline and Marshmallow, heads down to the grass. And there is Toppur and Aldis. All of Fritz’s grazing companions and nothing but space where the lanky, long legged Fritz would have been.
He landed in our rescue eight years ago with a guarantee of love, safety and comfort for the rest of his days. He had few teeth left and required a meal of soaked mash three times a day. Teresa, in particular, arranged her life around making sure that Fritz received his three meals a day.
He was a sensitive horse, shy of strangers but intensely curious. He was also a friendly sort and we soon moved him in with a herd of 7 mini mares, all rescues at Puddin' Pie's Place. Fritz was the ultimate protector of his little herd. He was gentle with them while still being clear that he was in charge. They became a tight family group often standing together under the shade tree on hot summer days.
Fritz earned a special privilege we call “free grazer” This meant that he was allowed to roam freely around the stable areas to graze as he wished outside the confines of the designated pasture. He had access to the stable area, hay storage and equipment shed, and could come and go as he pleased. He never misbehaved or did anything foolish. Sometimes, like on farrier day, we had no choice but to put him back into his pasture with his little mares. This was because he loved being a part of things and liked to stand smack in the middle of the barn aisle while the farriers were trying to work. He didn’t bother anything or anybody. He just liked to stand in the way, eyes half closed, one hind foot resting, being a part of the fun.
He was extremely alert to any goings on. He knew when something out of the ordinary was happening and would throw his head up to get a good look, long neck that he had, watching carefully. If he deemed something alarming or dangerous he raced to the safety of the barn. Tail up, head high, long legs lifting, even at his advanced age he was a gorgeous and graceful mover. Gosh, he was beautiful.
He hated rain. And cold. And loved his fly sheets, his raincoat, and his winter blankets. He loved his run-in shelter too. It was comical to see him peeking around the corner if he heard his name called, tucked cozily in the run-in with his little herd.
One of his most endearing habits was how he would deliberately line up his hind end and back up towards you, ever so slowly and carefully. At first I thought, “wow is this horse preparing to kick the snot out of me?” But no, not at all. He was simply asking to have his rump and tail scratched. What a goof ball, he was.
Our sweet Fritz. He was a Good Boy. We loved him well and he is greatly missed. Run free, beautiful sweet Fritz…until we meet again!
