Amigo

I am suffering from grief and shock. Amigo, who I ride at the stables, has died. He had a heart attack. I burst into tears when they told me for Amigo was my friend and I rode him three or four times a week. He was old and stiff in the mornings; grumpy till he did his first poo. We warmed up together, trotting without stirrups until he could bounce into a canter with the littlest bit of an aid. Then it was just like riding an armchair - he never pulled or bolted or bucked, he even occasionally jumped over poles without a swerve and a protest. In our last lesson together we almost mastered a half pass - I was hoping to get it right today....
After our rides, when I was washing him, he didn't like the hose on his face so I sponged round his eyes and his ears. He loved to have his forehead rubbed and he always walked nicely beside me, his head at my shoulder and I'd chat and he'd listen...
Nick said, "Can't you find another horse to ride? Isn't the country full of horses?"