My Pushkin

The New Times continues publishing the diaries of the famous journalist Masha Slonim, who went into exile for the second time*

The pre-holiday fuss is almost over, it's too late to rush around - the shops are closing, the trains stop running, life moves on to the fireplace, to the Christmas tree and to the Christmas table. It would seem, what a cute, albeit hackneyed Christmas story! On Christmas and New Year's Eve, you always want exactly this - battered and cute, simple and childish. But how to cut off all the bad and sad things that happened to us, what is happening around? How to close your eyes and be in this now, at least for a moment, without looking back in horror and not being afraid of what lies ahead? Could the death of a beloved horse be a Christmas story?

It seems to me that yes, maybe, just as any darkness can turn into light, if you try and see the light in it.

Horse Pushkin fell and could not get up. Our faithful veterinarian Marina made a disappointing diagnosis - the horse will not survive. Marina offered to give him an injection that would keep him a little longer - until my arrival (in Russia), so that I could say goodbye to him. But I thought that this would be a manifestation of selfishness on my part - Pushkin was in pain, he lay on the stall and suffered. A lying horse is no longer a horse. No wonder they say "the horse fell", not dead, not dead - fell!

Horse Pushkin fell. He lived for a quarter of a century, he has been with me since he was four years old. 20 years is a huge stretch of my life, I have not lived with any of my husbands for so long. My youngest son hardly remembers his life without Pushkin. My relationship with horses has always been difficult, I believe that stories about the loyalty and devotion of horses are a myth. Horses are not dogs, they are terribly selfish, they remain free forever, even when domesticated. Having become completely dependent on people, they remained proud and undefeated. Pushkin was proud and did not want to admit defeat, perhaps also because I did not dare to castrate him. He was a real Akhal-Teke stallion.

Twenty years ago, when I saw a dark gray proud horse, I fell in love with its beauty. Sitting in the saddle, I realized that this was not a horse, but a Rolls-Royce, its trot and gallop were so comfortable. It cost, of course, not like a Rolls-Royce, but with the money that they wanted for a horse, it was then possible to buy a quite decent car. Having borrowed money from a wealthy relative, I bought Pushkin.

He became Pushkin, however, not immediately, the official name of the horse is Gift. In profile, he reminded me of a poet, the girl who raised him called him Push, so he soon became Pushkin. In winter, he grew sideburns and looked more and more like "our everything." Horse Pushkin became our everything - the center of life. For all its selfishness, the horse got used to me and even, probably, fell in love. He whinnied when he heard the engine of my car or my morning cough when he saw me with an apple or a bucket of feed. And I have always been touched by the fact that such a powerful, strong and almost wild animal is completely dependent on me. True, in the field, in the saddle, I often depended on his whims. Pushkin, as they say, was strict and skittish, and I often found myself on the ground. It was fun with him. Yes, there was a peculiar but difficult love between us. Several times my life was in the balance. Once his hoof whistled a millimeter from my temple, somehow he miraculously did not bite through the carotid artery on my neck, but it was my fault. It was painful and embarrassing, the horse's teeth are big and strong. And how many times he viciously bit my hand, fearing that I would steal his food! And yet I loved and respected him. For his beauty, for his proud posture, for his savagery. I am grateful to Pushkin for our gallops in the field, for the walks along the river bank. We lived a good life together.

Why not a Christmas story?

* Continuation. Beginning - NT #40 of November 30 and #42 of December 14, 2015. No. 1, 3 , 5 , , 9 , 13 , 16 , 18 , 20 , 22 , 11 , 28 , 30 , 32 36 34,   , 38 for 2016.