Life with Mims
By Jeanne M. Mirabito

1977 filly Champion, Our Mims
March 8, 1974 - December 9, 2003

There is this great line in the movie, Seabiscuit. It goes something like, "People think we took a broken down old horse and fixed it. But that isn't true. He fixed us."

That's how I feel about Our Mims. She stole my heart, reshaped my views and took me on a journey few people are lucky enough to take. 

Mims never forgot she was a Champion, even when it looked like everyone else had. I first met her in 1998, a pensioned broodmare no longer pampered with royal status and darn upset about it, too. She commanded attention. Our Mims entered the ReRun program in the fall of 1999. She was twenty-six years old when she came to my farm in February of 2000. Aged but not a bit humble.

I could tell you a million stories about her daily life. I could tell you that she expected her breakfast to be served at dawn. I could say her morning nap was consistently taken at ten o'clock no matter what we humans had planned and her dinner was served at sunset. I could try to explain her tight social circle. Not everyone was allowed close and very few were "graced" with displays of affection. Our Mims was royalty; no doubt in her mind and if someone, horse or human, failed to recognize  that fact, they were quickly put in their rightful place.

But all that might give you the impression she was difficult to work for, um, with. She wasn't really. She just liked routine. And, she didn't like surprises, unless they came wrapped in peppermint cellophane or tasted like carrots.

Our Mims was a big, beautiful mare. She stood 16.1 hands at 29 years old. Her chest must have been massive when she was younger because it wasn't at all scrawny as an elder. She was strong, graceful and incredibly intelligent.

There was more to her than met the eye, though, she was like magic. She held the presence of ten horses and could make a human heart melt with just a soft nicker. Grooming her was like a bit of Heaven. Her earthy scent and soft, low breathing would remove any tension I had when I walked into the barn. Through those groomings, she became my closest confidant. I'd tell her all my troubles and she'd listen without fail. 

Sometimes she'd commiserate with quiet hugs. Other times she'd run me out of her stall! On those occasions, I'd take her wise advice, buck up and quit being such a whiner. Say what you want about my sanity but she was never wrong.

And, oh, when she ran!  She would start off at a trot, slow and easy, toss her beautiful head, first to the right then to the left and take off, almost flying. The sight and sound took my breath away. Those old hooves hit the turf with a rhythm uniquely her own. I'll never forget those long strides, her mane and tail flying.

A horse trader once warned me about loving a horse.  He explained he had loved only one in his life and was never the same. His exact words were, "A horse will steal your very heart and half your soul. Then they'll die and take it all with 'em."

He was right. I thought I'd crumble up and die the day we buried Our Mims. My heart still hurts. I know I will never be the same and doubt I will ever love another horse as much as I loved Mims. But I don't regret a minute of it. I will always be able to say I was welcomed into her space and graced with the love of a Champion.  I was blessed to have spent time with her.

And, I'll not say good-bye because she will be waiting for me when it is my turn to leave this world…and maybe then I'll finally get to ride her...