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“Janna, you’ve got to convince your dad to get rid of that horse, it’s going to kill him!”

My mom’s voice on the phone was a mix of panic and fear. She had just witnessed my dad bring Major home. That horse wasn’t just a wild animal; he was a monster in the eyes of everyone who knew him. They said Major was too broken, so beaten and starved that he had lost all faith in humans. He carried the label “unbreakable” and a seemingly predetermined fate of death.

But my dad saw something else. He saw the pain. He saw the fear hidden behind those wild eyes. And he decided not to break him, but to heal him.

I still remember those quiet afternoons, my dad standing alone in the stable, without a whip or a rope. He would simply stand there, speaking in a gentle voice as if he were talking to a close friend. Major would initially stand far away, filled with caution, but little by little, he started to listen. Every day, Dad would bring him sweet carrots, placing them in his open palm. Some days, Major wouldn’t eat them. My dad didn’t give up. Day after day, my dad’s boundless patience began to melt the frozen layer around Major’s heart.

Their relationship wasn’t that of an owner and an animal. It was a true friendship, built on absolute trust. After two years, Major was completely transformed. From an aggressive horse, he became gentle and loyal. Whenever my dad appeared, Major would let out a welcoming neigh, lower his head, and gently place a kiss on Dad’s forehead. It was their special gesture, a symbol of the love and respect Major had for the man who saved his life.

Then, that fateful day arrived. My dad passed away peacefully, but left a huge void in everyone’s hearts. When the funeral took place, Major was brought to say goodbye. He stood there, majestic yet so sorrowful, looking at the coffin. I thought he would just stand still, but he didn’t. The horse slowly moved closer, bowed his head, and as if a deep-seated instinct took over, he placed one final, gentle, and loving kiss on his friend’s forehead.

In that moment, the entire space seemed to fall silent. Everyone held their breath, witnessing that miraculous moment. That kiss wasn’t just a farewell. It was a promise of loyalty, a forgiveness for all that humans had done, and a love that never dies.

Major is no longer with us, but the story of his last kiss will forever be a legend in our family. It is a testament to the power of love, patience, and compassion—the very values my dad lived by and passed on to a horse, and to all of us.