Sadness and Joy, Cantering and Magic
Posted: Monday, October 25, 2010
by Dianne Lehmann
Artisan Jewelry from SyZyGy
Early October in north central Arizona can be a frustrating time of year. Cold nights and hot days are not uncommon. Gone are the warm breezes of summer's early evenings and leaving your doors and windows open to the cool night air. Instead, the mornings are so chilly you longingly eye your winter coat and think seriously about wearing it as you set out on your day's activities. But you have enough sense to know that by midday, you will be sorry you wore long pants and a long sleeved shirt and happy you had only eyed the coat.
When I arrived at the ranch, I was surprised to see the owner's pickup truck there. She would normally be at work. Odder still, her horse trailer was hitched to it. I was reviewing in my mind the schedule for the few remaining recognized horse shows this year and was coming up blank. Her daughter's car was also there, but that was as usual. She has Thursdays off and we had decided on Monday that this was going to be the day that I would finally learn how to canter with her help. Or perform the three-beat gait as she calls it trying to allay my fears and misgivings about cantering. The very first time I ever cantered, I had fallen off when "my" horse spooked and took off. I have been assured that it is much different when you are the one asking for it and expecting it. But the memory of the fall and the attendant pain was still fresh. I'd had my fall one year and two days previously. I have a very good memory. Sometimes it's a curse.
I was standing there staring at the truck and trailer when her husband told me that Magic was sick. That explained everything. He said that the owner and her daughter were in the house. So I dropped off my gear down at the barn and had a look at Magic. I could see that the sparkle had gone out of him and he was breathing short little painful breaths. Then I went up to the house to sit with them for a while and get the whole story.
Magic was a big black draft horse; a Percheron stallion. He was shy and loving and had no idea he was so much bigger than me. He loved hugs and just hanging out together. He was a teddy bear of a horse. He had to be put down on Sunday, October 10th, and I was there on the 11th when he was put into the ground. It took a huge backhoe to do it. I didn't watch. The owner said it is messy and disturbing and I'm sure she is right. I kept busy with my back to the burial by grooming the horse that I ride. He kept his eye on the proceedings and made certain I was okay. When it was done, the owner said the backhoe operator had horses of his own that he'd had to bury and that he did a very gentle and respectful job.
I miss Magic terribly. It isn't the same without him. He would peak shyly around a corner of the tack house at me and then when he saw it was just me and not some monster come to eat him, the rest of him would pop out from behind the tack house like he'd been propelled by a canon. He was always so happy to see me.
Magic's stomach ruled and he was always looking for a treat. Apples, licorice and bread were some of his favorites. His mouth was so big and his lips so mobile that he would almost take your entire hand along with the treat. He would never use his teeth on you, but for sure you were a slobbery mess when you were done.
Big as he was, he could turn on a dime. And he was fast. His owner had taught him all sorts of tricks and maneuvers. He was smart and kind and caring. It took forever for him to learn to trust me. But when he did, it was unconditionally.
His hooves were big as dinner plates and his head was ... well I've no comparison. It was huge. The biggest fly mask you could buy was too small. His mane was long, thick and flowing and his forelock covered his eyes, which only accentuated his shyness. His tail had been cropped as they do for draft horses and he had a small white blaze on his forehead.
When the owner's daughter had come home to live again after finishing her schooling in Phoenix , she had brought her pot-bellied pig, Sebastian, with her. He is housed in a large pen that shares the tack house and some fencing with Magic's paddock. At first they were uncertain of each other but soon became fast friends. I thought it was in the stars that it should be so because Sebastian is all black with a white spot on his forehead. Sebastian pined for days over the loss of Magic. He wouldn't eat and just laid listlessly around his pen. Who says animals don't understand loss?
As hard as it is for me to lose Magic, it is much harder for the owner and her daughter. I do not have to be there every day looking at the mound of leftover dirt or the empty paddock. As much as I loved him, I couldn't possibly have loved him as much as they did ... do. There is one less bucket of food to prepare. One less horse to groom. One less horse to share the day with. Constant reminders. It is a sadness beyond description.
The owner had been up all night and had taken Magic to the hospital around midnight on the 7th. Even so, she was up for getting me on "my" horse and, along with her daughter, finally getting me to canter. We did this in between her making an appointment with her regular veterinarian and going to the appointment.
I did canter. It was exhilarating, if still a bit frightening. And it took our minds off of Magic for about an hour. When we were finished and I dismounted, I could see the happiness in their faces for what we had accomplished and then watched it slowly turn once more to concern for that big black boy suffering down by the barn. I didn't know whether to be elated or so very sad. Regardless, tears came to my eyes. Tears of joy for finally conquering some of my fear and cantering and tears of sadness for the ordeal that most likely lay ahead for Magic.
I was invited to go with them to the vet. I was relieved because I hadn't wanted to ask or intrude. I was worried that I might never see him again. The vet said there was some small hope and sent us home with instructions for his care. Magic hung on for a few more days and then his owner had to make the hard decision. The one that anyone who has ever loved an animal fears they may one day have to make. But he breathed his last breath in his own pasture with those who loved him nearby.
I've lost a lot of animal friends over the years. Enough to know that it never gets any easier to say goodbye. But I do also know that time blunts the sharpness of loss, the love given and received is worth the pain, and life goes on. Still, he will be sorely missed for a very long time to come.
This Article has been viewed 1,472 times. (Not updated in real-time.)
More commentsA very good story Dianne, just what did the horse suffer from old age or what?Hi David.
It started out as a catch-all called "colic," which really is just pain in the abdomen. It causes horses to roll on the ground and breathe poorly. There are other indicators that they are in a great deal of pain. The cause of Magic's colic was a blocked bowel.
The horse's digestive tract is sort of its Achilles Heel. He wasn't passing gas or feces despite getting about a gallon of mineral oil through a nasal tube into his stomach. The reason was sand in his gut. It's a problem for horses here in Arizona where we don't have grass pastures. Usually though, if a horse is active enough, the sand will move right on through. The problem with draft horses, though, is that they tend to have slower metabolisms.
Because he was a draft horse and a stallion, surgery really wasn't an option. More often than not, the anesthesia kills them. Also, if the gut is really full of sand, once they've opened them up, the gut very often tears to pieces while being moved.
Magic was middle-aged as stallions go (they don't live as long as geldings or mares) and that also shortened his odds of surviving surgery. It was a hard decision for his owner to make and he was really just hanging on for her ... until she was ready to let go.
Thanks for reading.
Hugs,
Dianne
Keeping an animal is easy but saying goodbye to it one day is uneasy but that day must come to reality. Pet owner has to be prepared to face it whether he/she likes it or not.Hi Hilda.
You are so right. When we had to put our cat, Bear (brother to Winnie who is still with us), down I thought that I would never have another animal live with me because losing them is so hard. I was determined that Winnie would be the last. I've learned better since then. My work with the horses has taught me that I will always have animals in my life.
My last paragraph in the story is very true for me and I know that I will just have to keep dealing with the loss when it happens.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting
Hugs,
Dianne
When I was about 8 years old, my brother and I, had two stallion horses. We obviously we'ren't the best caretakers because we were throwing rocks at the horses thinking that it wouldn't hurt them. Silly us, but our grandfather beat the crap out of us and it never happened again..lol.Hi James.
They are pretty tough in most ways, but throwing rocks ... well your granddad knew how to stop it. :) What I can't imagine is that they stood still for it. Or did you have them running all over?
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Hugs,
Dianne
Oh Dianne, I feel so sad, and yet you really brought Magic alive for me, so in a way he lives on. You wrote this beautifully. I feel for Magic's owner, it's the most horrible decision to have to make. At least everybody can know they gave him a really wonderful life.But also, congratulations for cantering again, what an achievement! May you have many more happy canters.Hi Jennifer.
Magic had an interesting life and that's for sure. The latter part of it when he came as a rescue horse to live with my friend was better than wonderful. He started out life as a stud on a Premarin "farm." All he knew how to do when she got him was walk on a lead and get in a trailer. He had a bright mind and gobbled up everything she taught him.
Yah. Cantering. Well, I still have to do it again to prove the last time wasn't a fluke. Haven't quite gotten up the nerve to go it alone. Waiting for a little company when all our schedules mesh.
Hugs,
Dianne
Diane, thanks for a compelling love story. We're all God's creatures, great and small. Indeed the joys of having loved and been loved in return transcends the sadness of saying goodbye.
John BrazellHi John.
Even so, it's still hard to let go. But his memory and all the joy he gave live on.
Thanks for reading and for your kind comment.
Hugs,
Dianne
My nephew and his wife live in AZ - her parents have horses - must be a common thing in AZ - thanks for sharing yours with us again!Hi Marijo.
Seems like every time I go somewhere, no matter how short a trip it might be, I see horse trailers being pulled along with horses in them. If it isn't horses, it's steer, and sometimes mules. Yes, I'd say that horses are big in AZ!
And you are welcome, I'm always happy to share "my" horses with you. Even if it is a sad sort of sharing. Besides, I've always found talking about a loss helpful in healing the loss.
So, where abouts in AZ does your nephew live?
Hugs,
DianneThey are in Phoenix -
We are big into horses in Colorado too (that's the editorial "we" - I love them - to photograph and if they are on the other side of the fence....but haven't ridden in about 30 some years)
Our neighbor just lost her 26 year old horse - I hear you!
Very well put. Horses, I imagine, develop a special bond with their owner/rider, unlike other pets. I was thinking about the flying creatures in Avatar, the ones you had to initially fight with in order to gain their respect. When an animal like that passes away, it must be that much more heartbreaking. So sorry to hear. -BrombergHi B2C.
I thought the bond the rider had with the flying creatures in Avatar was brilliant. Of course, I immediately wished for a connection like that with "my" horse. The ultimate goal of dressage is for the rider and horse to look as if they are reading each other's minds.
I never rode Magic, but I spent lots of time on the ground with him. His owner rode him a bit (you can ride a draft horse but why you'd want to be that far off of the ground I will never understand ... all the further to fall :)), but for the most part he was just a pampered pet.
There most certainly is a special bond between and horse and rider. You each have to respect and trust the other implicitly for it to work out at all. It isn't always easy giving your life over to someone else.
Thanks for reading and for you insightful and kind comments.
Hugs,
Dianne
I'm sorry for your loss Dianne. I've always thought horses to be the most beautiful animals. I've gone horseback riding only a couple of times but am intimidated by them. I think that's why I enjoy reading your articles about riding so much. This was a very heartfelt story, thanks for sharing it with us.Hi Brianna.
The first time I saw "my" horse, all I could think was that he was sooo tall ... and big. Actually, he is pretty average in height and weight. But he looked huge to me and I was wondering just what I thought I was doing. When I got up on him the first time, the woman who was helping me asked me if I was okay. I told her it was really high. She said, "Yes. But how ARE you." I had to laugh when I finally understood the difference. I was actually okay when I thought about it.
They do still intimidate me from time to time. Sometimes now I forget just how much larger they are than me. Usually one or two of them will conspire to remind me. Just the other day, "my" horse lobbed me from one side of his stall to the other while I was cleaning his rear foot. All it took was a little flick of his leg and I was in the air. I landed nicely and wasn't at all hurt. Mostly just surprised. It's always an adventure visiting the horses.
Thank you so much for your kind comments.
Hugs,
DianneHi Brianna.
The first time I saw "my" horse, all I could think was that he was sooo tall ... and big. Actually, he is pretty average in height and weight. But he looked huge to me and I was wondering just what I thought I was doing. When I got up on him the first time, the woman who was helping me asked me if I was okay. I told her it was really high. She said, "Yes. But how ARE you." I had to laugh when I finally understood the difference. I was actually okay when I thought about it.
They do still intimidate me from time to time. Sometimes now I forget just how much larger they are than me. Usually one or two of them will conspire to remind me. Just the other day, "my" horse lobbed me from one side of his stall to the other while I was cleaning his rear foot. All it took was a little flick of his leg and I was in the air. I landed nicely and wasn't at all hurt. Mostly just surprised. It's always an adventure visiting the horses.
Thank you so much for your kind comments.
Hugs,
Dianne
Beautifully written article Dianne.Hi Terence.
Thank you so much. But it's hard not to write beautifully about such beautiful animals.
Hugs,
Dianne
"I've lost a lot of animal friends over the years." Great storytelling as usualy, Dianne. Most of my animal losses have involved dogs and cats. The most painful was a female dog that suddenly died one afternoon while she and I were on a trip, and she picked up the scent of ground hogs that were destroying a rice farm. Bu-you got caught in a trap as she closed in on a ground hog. The long walk back to our village was one of the most excruciating experiences of my growing-up years. She was such a brilliant hunter, yet a sweet friend. It's been decades ago, but it still hurts recalling the memory, the scene, the sight of her burial. ~mogama~Hi Mogama.
I've been fortunate to only lose one animal friend to a mishap. A plumber let a cat into our home and the cat managed to kill our small parrot. I can't imagine how much losing Bu-you the way that you did must have hurt. Do wonder what you might have done differently that might have prevented her untimely death? I do.
Thank you for reading and for sharing your story with me.
Hugs,
Dianne
More comments
We want your comments! If you can read this, you don't have javascript enabled, so you can't use this comment system. Please enable javascript.