What Does Letting Them Go On A Good Day Look Like?

For Brat it looked like extra apples, alfalfa cubes, grooming and a Bemer.

It looked like feeling his oats, rearing, and then jigging as we walked around the barn.

It looked like a good roll in the sand ring, leaping up, and bolting around the ring, throwing in the occasional leap and buck.

It looked like another roll in the sand before going out to the field with the best grazing.

It looked like staying out and grazing longer than usually allowed, until the vet arrived.

Today we let Brat go, free of the pains of age and old injuries. He was in good weight, breathing well, and enjoyed that last tear around. After Twenty-seven years, six months, and seven days, I know it was the right time to let him go.

My heart is shattered.

Brat
Super Brat
Rembrandt
Artistic License

April 22, 1998 - October 29, 2025

Half an Hour of Peace

Only a few days left now. There are a few things I would have liked to do one more time with him. I gave up on some of them a while ago, but I would like to go out to the forestry centre one more time to take some photos with the autumn leaves.

It might not happen. Brat came in with a painful swelling on a hind leg last week. I suspect he hit the fence in kicking out at the four year old nipping at him. At any rate it was sore enough that I haven't been riding, and have reduced the handwalking.

We are still going out for grass every day. It has become a half hour of peace, during which I can simply let go of the pending loss and just watch him graze. Everything is set. There are no more decisions to be made, no more tasks to be done. I can just sit in the moment during our time, and take some photos of everyday activities.

The grief comes later, after he's back in his paddock.

Nearing the End

I set the end date today. It was tough.

Two years ago I learned the deadstock company has pickup scheduled by area. They wouldn't schedule in advance, and required a phone call after euthansia to arrange pickup for the following day. Today I called to find out when they picked up in my area, and afterwards asked the vet clinic to schedule an appointment.

We had a lot of rain earlier this week. Enough to make the footing a bit muddy. Enough to stress Brat's fragile stifle. It is confirmation, if I needed it, that it is time. That this is the right decision for Brat.

That knowledge doesn't stop the pain. It doesn't bring confidence, or peace with the decision. I'm still crying, even as I make the necessary arrangements. I'm still losing my dear friend of over twenty-seven years.

My Horse Ambassador

Autumn is here. The trees are changing colours with fading greens and pops of orange and red.

I took Brat out to the local forestry centre yesterday and went for a ride on their public trails. It was a beautiful day, with sunlight through the yellow leaves turning the forest golden in places. After an hour I gave him the choice of going back to the trailer or going on. He chose the trail leading away from the trailer.

A little later I did turn him onto the trail going back to the trailer. Before we got there we encountered a family who had stopped their walk to watch the horse go by. One of the kids told me they liked my horse, and I stopped and asked them if they would like to pet him. The offer was eagerly accepted and they politely approached Brat's shoulder as I directed. Brat graciously turned his head to say hello. He's always been good at the Horse Ambassador thing.

It started when we were riding out regularly with a friend. We often stopped to talk to people walking the trails, and because Brat is calm, sensible and interested in people, he was the horse they got to touch. My friend called it playing horse ambassador first, and it kind of stuck as an inside joke.

The Long Slow Build To Euthanasia Part 6

At this point I know I won't ask my horse to go through another winter. If the timing works out the way I think, the vet will come on the last Tuesday in October. Just over two months. Nine weeks. Sixty three days.

The questions still come. Is it really time? Is there something I could do? What if... But now I know those aren't real questions because I have been here three times before. These questions come because I don't want to think about saying goodbye to my friend of over twenty-seven years. I've spent more of my life with him than without him.

It is time. This is the right thing to do for my horse. That certainty doesn't make it any easier.

Sixteen Years Ago...

Sixteen years ago I started this blog a month before I euthanized my second horse. Over the following weeks I wrote about the process. There is much of the same happening now.

We have had very little rain in the last few weeks, slipping towards drought conditions. The weather has been extremely hot and humid (for our area) which has been hard on Brat's breathing. Though it is only mid August, many trees are changing colours as their leaves dry out. The change hints of autumn, hints that normally come in mid September.

The never agains are starting to appear. The last times approach. Last week, as part of my daily grass photos post, I wrote about dressing Brat up in Christmas finery, taking a few photos, and going for a hack as part of my seasonal activities. One year I dressed Brat and Rory up after the first big snowfall in November so I could take photos of them in the snow. It is unlikely Brat will see snow again.

My daily grazing with photos and memories continues. I'm digging deeper into the past as the big memories have been written, and finding some little gems. The ones that don't seem like much often reflect our relationship more than the exciting tales. In some ways it is difficult, hanging out in this space before the end. I am glad to have the time to appreciate him and dig through memories of our time together.

The Long Slow Build To Euthanasia - Part 5

There comes a point at which it becomes plain that I can't ask my horse to go through another winter. I had thought it would be summer for Brat as his heaves are worst in the summer, but he's been doing well the last couple of years. That stifle isn't healed enough to handle another winter. That knowledge doesn't stop the grasping at straws.

I have thought about redoing the footing in his paddock with crushed stone and stabilizers, but the cost is prohibitive. I have thought about investing in a custom strength training plan for his stifle, but if it's not enough he'll be struggling in pain in the middle of winter. I have thought about keeping him in an open building, like an arena, but most footing gets dusty when it's very cold. Again the cost would be prohibitive to build something suitable, and what would his quality of life be like? Moving south is not a reasonable option, even if just for the winter.

These are wild ideas, and completely normal thoughts to have in this situation. There is a desire to find the solution that will keep our horse happy, comfortable, and healthy enough to go on for a bit longer. I think I need to work through the crazy things, and even the sensible things that ignore half of the issues, as part of coming to the decision. Knowing the end date is a heavy burden to carry. Imagining wild solutions lets me set that weight aside for a time.

Realistically I have to admit the decision is made. I have to start planning with that in mind. Last week Brat needed refills on several of his medications. Two of them come in a larger pack that lasts five and eight months respectively. There was no point in saving on the per pill cost by getting the larger packs. Brat won't be needing them that long.

I haven't made my decision public yet. There's no need to do so yet. For now it is enough that I know so I can spend time with Brat, doing what I can to keep him happy and comfortable.