.....

Here I am, yet again unable to sleep.
I don't really know what is wrong with me. I kind of know why, but I don't know how to fix it.

Ever since I was 10 yrs old, I've spent my past summers at a camp called Black River Farm and Ranch. Black River Farm and Ranch is an all girls horseback riding camp in Croswell, Michigan. As a young girl, I grew up there and learned a number of things about myself. Then, after my years as a camper were over, I was one of the lucky girls to be selected to be on staff. I worked my way up the ranks from Counselor in Training to Assistant Counselor and finally a full fledged Counselor.

I wish I could explain my love for this camp. BR has become a part of what I identify Rachel Armstrong as. If you look at my left hand, you will see my BR ring that I wear every single day. Without my ring I feel naked. Without my ring, something is missing.

BR took a young, lonely girl who was different from everybody else and gave her a home. BR gave me a reason to love myself because I was surrounded by girls like me. Girls who loved horses and a place where my awkwardness and shyness was finally acceptable. I was able to make my own decisions, and figure out what it is I like from life, and the qualities that I can attribute to Rachel Armstrong. As a staff member, I have learned more lessons about life, hardwork and the beauty in almost every aspect of life. I have sweated, cried, bled, stressed and laughed more at BR than I have anywhere else.

At BR is also where I learned what it is like to really love. My first year at camp, I picked a horse and he instantly became my favorite. I remember sitting in the horsetalk area for halter, being a first year, not knowing anyone, any of the horses or what halter was all about. Each girl gets to select a horse, and I had no idea what horse to pick. It was my second day at camp, and I had no idea who any of the horses were. They came to #16 Bud, and nobody raised their hand. Since I didn't know any better anyway, I raised my hand and picked Bud. As dumb as it sounds, that moment that seems random and completely significant actually became one of the defining moments of my life. Bud became and still remains my favorite horse at camp. I would spend all of my freetime with him, just brushing him. When I wasn't brushing Bud, I was riding him in freetime. My second year, I won halter with Bud and was recognized at the horseshow for all of my hardwork. After awhile, Rachel and Bud became a entity that everyone knew. And when I was on staff, it remained the same. Every camper knew who my favorite was and would run up to tell.."Miss Rachel, Miss Rachel, guess who I rode today??? BUD! I love him....Miss Rachel, did you see Bud today?". I do not doubt that other counselors have favorites and care for them deeply, but of all the counselors, It was probably the most evident my feelings for Bud. I truly love that horse. I love him more than I love most people.

Tuesday of last week, I received a facebook chat from one of the counselors I work with. Tuchek (Emily Tuchek, but we just call her Tuchek), sent me a message saying I needed to call Torie, another counselor. They had been trying to reach me all day, but my phone was dead so they were unable to reach me. Torie had to talk to me about Bud. I knew that whatever she was going to tell me was going to be bad, and I wasn't going to enjoy the phone call. I called Torie on my friends phone and she told me that her favorite horse Champ had died. I told her I was sorry, and then immediately began to cry..."Bud isn't dead too...is he?" I asked. "I'm so sorry Rach...he coliced and died"

For those who know nothing about horses, when a horse colics it is not a good thing. Horses cannot throw up, so when they ingest something that does not sit well in their stomachs or eat too much sand or drink too cold water too quickly, or do not drink enough water, their intestines tangle and they eventually die. It is horribly painful, and a horse that is coliced can be recognized by extreme sweating, and actions such as pawing at their stomachs, biting and kicking at their stomachs...anything to show that they are in inbearable pain. Bud was discovered to have coliced and they tried to give him a treatment to make it better. It didn't...in fact he got worse...and he was dead 24 hrs later.

I know this is probably a dumb reason to be so sad, but the truth is I am. It is almost like apart of me has died. When I think of Bud, I think of camp and when I think of camp I think of the innocence, growth and love that has occured in my life because of Bud and Black River. When Bud died, a piece of my heart died, along with my innocence. I never thought he would be gone. When I said goodbye to him on the last day working this summer I remember saying, goodbye, I'll see you next summer. I had no idea that would be the last time I'd see him alive. I never knew that would be the last day one I would see of the most pure and innocent forms of love that exists in my heart. I love him as much as that first day of halter 10 years ago. No, I loved him more and more each year that I spent at camp. The love never-changed...it is the same feeling.

And now he's gone. And died in probably one of the worst ways I believe a horse can die. In terrible pain and before his time.

I can't sleep. I don't want to sleep. I just Bud back. I just want my innocence and love back.
I probably seem like a stupid horsefreak. But that's how I feel.

I wish my feelings would just go away at this point