For years I gleamed your sunset-orange coat, massaged your magnificent body, spun-silked your tail and mane. I turned my finger pads into neurotic health evaluators skilled at touch-detecting microscopic fascia anomalies. My hands became texture-analysts, experts in obucure blemishes, bumps and lumps. I questioned random quivers, uncovered invisible scratches requiring immediate dousing with disinfectant, to be inspected multiple times per day for weeks on end. My eyes became private investigators, mood-interpreters, lame-detectors, paranoid oracles of imminent disaster. I showered, bandaged, massaged, stretched, physioed, osteopathed, dentisted, acupunctured, aquatrainered, gadgetized, trailered, farriered, barefooted, horse-whispered, spiritually-communicated. I haute-coutured, blanketed, padded, saddle-changed, saddle-fitted, bridle-fitted, bit-fitted. I learned, unlearned, relearned, questioned, read, reread, panicked, tried, failed, sucked, didn’t suck. I surpassed myself, marvelling at your patience and generosity.

Together, we time-walked miles in soft sand or on hard surfaces, no matter the weather, following veterinary gospel to the last nano-detail.

Besotted, I murmured love-spells, kissed your velvet-inquisitive nose, encouraged your favourite licking game. I play-reprimanded your demands for treats, proud of our liaison coquine.

Dominic, my gorgeous-wonderful-beautiful boy, my daily amazement, my thrill, my sports companion, my exercise coach, my teacher, my mentor, my mirror, my confidant, my anti-depressant, my constant source of anxiety, my money-pit, my sunshine, my big-moving, chunky, powerful orange LOVE.

Now, we visit like elderly friends; I come bearing carrots, offering gentle caresses and apologies in return for licks and puzzled glances.

I am sorry. My body suddenly deceived me.

Yet muscle memory remains. Now, sometimes, I can smile through the tears.

Oh, my beautiful SuperDom! Weren’t we just amazing together?!