She was the "Golden Retriever" of horses -- you know, that unending eagerness to please.

In fact, if horses wagged their tails, hers would have wagged non-stop. Beautiful in every respect as far as I could see, she definitely had the most kind brown eyes you'd ever want to meet up with.

"Shalimar" came to me at a time when I truly needed her most. I was about 10 years old and that year had been filled with nothing but bad luck, bad tempered horses. After being thrown off, stepped on, and dragged, a bit of my "no fear" attitude towards these large creatures had begun to retreat.

Shalimar was just the opposite and possessed a gentle nature and keen sense of just "knowing" what to do, and when to do it. What began as companionship, grew into deep love. It was amazing the effect she had on restoring my confidence in areas that reached far beyond horses. She truly saved me from my own worst enemy -- myself.

As the months went by, we did everything you could think of doing on the back of a horse -- and some things, which if mom had witnessed, would have made her cringe. We pretended to be entered in world class jumping competitions. Of course my jumps were the likes of two, fifty gallon barrels with a plastic pole across the center. We swam in a nearby pond and together we "saved the day" as we rode the trails of the old west like Roy Rogers (and yes, I was Roy, not Dale!) I lived and breathed for my moments spent with Shalimar, but like all good things...

One day while riding her, she started limping. There was no visible swelling on any of her legs and it was difficult to tell where it was coming from. After letting her rest for several days, she had improved. But, upon riding again, the lameness returned. A veterinarian was called out and after his exam he spoke gently to me, almost as if he could hear my unspoken plea to "let her be all right".

I tried as hard as I could at the age of 10 not to cry, but I could not prevent the tears from welling up as he spoke of his findings. For one thing, she was much older than anyone knew, he said. I didn't care. I just wanted him to fix her.

He couldn't.

Her joints were just plain worn out and she couldn't tolerate this much riding anymore. We tried different ways of shoeing her, we tried liniments, but to no avail.

One evening in a brief passing, I overheard my dad talking about how we should "let her go". I ran to my room and cried a river of tears. I knew we had tried everything to make her well again and yet my emotional attachment was too deep to just give up. To me, "letting her go" or "putting her to sleep" was just a sugarcoated way of saying she would be killed. She saved me and in turn I would kill her? No! As I cried myself to sleep, I hoped with all my heart for a miracle.

It wasn't long after that a man came to see us and I don't even recall why, but in conversation he spoke about how he had been searching for a horse whose temperament was extremely gentle for he could only ride on Sundays.

Did I hear him right? Only one day a week? I knew she could handle that much riding.

We took him to see Shalimar and he fell in love with her. She stayed with him several years, happy and content with their Sunday rides until it came her time to cross the bridge -- peacefully, on her own.

This wonderful creature was truly a gift in my life and though I've owned countless horses of many breeds since that time, I knew in my heart there would never be another Shalimar... ever.

Shelly is an award winning songwriter/singer who wrote and performed the opening song on the "Pet Tales" CD. She has also had a story featured on "Miracle Pets". You may purchase her songs at http://www.songimages.com.