The Bluebird Valley Horse Ranch

After your mother died, you could hardly look at Bluebird. It had been that way for months: you'd go into his stall with his hay and oats, fill up his water, and pet him before leaving and doing chores. You'd turn him out into his pasture, where he'd stay until after you finished watching your father train the other students for the upcoming event, and mucking out stalls. You'd then turn him in, give him more hay to last the night, fill up his water one last time, and you'd turn in yourself.

It was painful to ride him. Not physically, mentally. After all, how can you look at the horse your mother gave you for your twelfth birthday? Everything about Bluebird always came with thoughts about your mother, and the awful way she died. Her smile, her eyes, the way she always encouraged you to give it your all while you were practicing with your father and going to competitions.

Eventually, you came to terms with the pain. You started riding Bluebird again; training with him, competing with him, even hanging out in his stall when you've finished your nightly chores around the house. You could've never expected what else was to come, however.

(Real life version of Spirit: Riding Free, and other movies in the tags)