still alive, killing time at the cemetery
Apollo died on Sunday May 3, 2026 at 10:07 am from a sudden cardiac arrest. He would have been 24.
I donât know how to deal with it, so I am going to write about it instead.
Apollo and my love story officially began on September 6, 2015, but unofficially you have to go back a couple of weeks. It began with other characters: an abusive trainer in Southern California who had been torturing Apollo for years. One day a seven-month pregnant woman witnessed it and went up to HH and bought Apollo on sight. The problem was, Sydney was 7 months pregnant. She got him out of that situation but her hands were tied. Sydney did know another trainer, Ashley, and basically showed up on outside Ashleyâs barn at 5am the next day.
âI did what I could,â Sydney told Ashley, âbut Iâm going to need your help.â She looked back at the tortured soul that was Apollo. âI saved him, but like⊠he still needs saving.â
I had met Ashley a few days before Apollo showed up on her barnâs doorstep. She knew my background and knew I was, well, a little bored.
âI have this horse you might like,â she texted me. âHe needs a lot of work because of what happened to him but I think the two of you will get along swimmingly.â The next text read âhis name is Apollo. I remember you said you like mythology?â
I didnât quite realize the extent of the trauma Apollo had been through until I actually saw him. There were cigarette burns on his neck. There was a scar along the left side of his jugular from when HH had tried to slash his throat in a fit of rage. The moment you went into Apolloâs stall, he would gallop to the back wall and start shaking so violently his body would start foaming with sweat. Putting a halter on him required carving out a time period of about 30 minutes. You had to brush him so slowly that your arm would begin to cramp from being in one position for so long. Showering him was next to impossible.
There was a lot of work to be done with him. It took a lot of time and patience. Because of the extent of the trauma, only Ashley and I were riding him. Sometimes I would visit him after work on Ashleyâs days just so he would get used to seeing me. I wanted him to understand he was safe now, that no one would ever hurt him again.
I went to see him one night after work. And by that I mean, I was in a work dress and heels and the only riding gear I had in my car was my helmet. It was dark and kind of foggy. But I had come to realize something: in order for him to trust me, I had to trust him.
âOkay,â I told Apollo. âYou and me, we need to work some things out. Itâs the only way weâre going to move forward.â
The trouble was, as I said, the only riding gear I had in my car was my helmet. I literally didnât have anything else. So picture this: Apollo in only a bridle and me climbing onto a rail, barefoot and in a work dress, and then sliding onto Apolloâs back with the kind of grace I am thankful no one was else was around to witness. I figured this night time adventure would end one of two ways: we would trust each other or one of the grooms would find me the following morning laying on the ground with a broken neck. 50-50 odds seemed good enough.
so picture this: the two of us in a dark arena, the only light coming from a street lamp on the road, the only sound the two of us breathing. It was quiet and cold, but I truly believe something changed that day. We learnt to trust each other but I think we learnt each other, too.
Ashley was technically Apolloâs legal guardian and as such most of the financial burden fell on her. I had the best of both worlds: I was riding this really cool horse and I didnât have to pay for anything. It was great. But then I got a job in Los Angeles and I had to make the decision of leaving Apollo behind in Orange County or bringing him with me up to Los Angeles. I did hesitate a little, Iâm not going to lie, but I think I always knew the truth, too: I didnât want to imagine life with Apollo.
Apollo was in Los Angeles for the better part of nine years. For the most part we had undone most of the trauma but as is the case with any abuse, there were some lingering scars. He was fine in the shower as long as he wasnât tied up. You could touch his face, kind of, as long as he knew there was nothing in your hands. He developed new trauma, too, in the shape of a squirrel following an incident when out on a trail and a squirrel fell on his head. Ever since then, my 17 hand 1 former Grand Prix show jumper would snort from anxiety every time he saw a squirrel.
I had always known I wanted to retire him but I had very specific criteria for how I wanted to do it. I wanted him somewhere where he could graze all day but be inside at night. I wanted somewhere clean, and I wanted somewhere where people actually lived on the property. I found a retirement facility in Solvang which fit all of these criteria and Apollo moved to Solvang on April 11, 2026.
Solvang is a 3 hour drive from Los Angeles and so I had planned to go up and see him for his birthday. 5 minutes away from the property, I got The Call from the owner of the property. Apollo had died from a sudden heart attack while grazing. There had been a vet on site for an unrelated reason but by that the time they had rushed over, his heart had stopped and they werenât able to bring him back. The time was 10:07 am. He would have been 24.
