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Ed was a black and white Paint Quarter Horse. He died around the age of fifteen years. We cannot share his inner world, of course: Such loveliness lies far beyond our tears. He came to us beaten and afraid, But in about a year he chose to love, Never questioning the choice he made, Nor from that passion did he ever move. It wasn't mere acceptance or compulsion That made him such a gentle, loving friend. Some innocence of which we have no notion Gave him a depth we cannot comprehend. He loved us with a dignity and grace We cannot hope to answer or replace.
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