Shadow WAS a shadow;
following me around the pasture whenever I checked the fences,
nuzzling the back pockets of the gentleman who trimmed his hooves,
and being constantly gentle and curious around me and my friends as I cared for him, and learned to ride.
Shadow was with me for 32 years,
and when he died, I saved some of his long tail hair. He was like most Appaloosas; with a white rump with dark spots, and the rest of his coat shifted from a blonde palmino hue to gray, but his mane and tail always had several shades of brown and gray and blonde; a virtual rainbow of horse colors.
Just recently I found an artisan in Colorado who is a woodworker, she fashions horse-hair tassels into necklaces that are works of art.
And Shadow is next to my heart, again.
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