There Is No "Right" Answer

When it comes to making the decision to euthanize, especially the first time, we want to know it's the "right" time. We question ourselves, our advisors, and our experts. Without a doubt it is an intimidating decision to have to make, especially the first time.

All too often our horses develop issues that require expensive care or medication, and when another thing is added to the list and the expense, the questions start. Is is reasonable to proceed with treatment? Will the horse recover completely, and if not will they recover enough to maintain a decent quality of life? What will it cost, and can I afford it?

There's the guilt question all too often associated with that last one. Am I considering euthanasia for my convenience?

If that question haunts you, the answer is extremely likely to be no. Euthansia is a consideration because the horse's quality of life is in question. The struggle of is it time versus the horse having a good day playing in their field makes that decision more difficult. Quality of life isn't determined by today. It is determined by the general ratio of good to bad days over time. When the bad days outnumber the good days it is time to make a change, whether that is a change in medication or management or euthanasia.

There will always be people who disagree with your decision, no matter what you choose to do. We can only make the best decision we can with the information and resources we have available at the time.

There is no "right" answer.

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.