Five Months Later

Tomorrow is my horse's birthday. He would have been nineteen and we would have had one more summer together had he lived to see it. Four years ago, in consultation with the vet, we switched to pain management for my horse. There was nothing else that could be done. Driving home that day I knew, somehow, that he would not reach his twentieth birthday.

In the last couple of days I have spent hours going through the digital photos I've taken in the last few years. There are so many photos, and so few really good ones. I want only the best or those that spark specific memories for the memory album I'm creating. Now I have to go through the older photographs. Unfortunately I will probably have to scan those old pictures as it is just about impossible to get film printed properly now - these days the negatives are scanned before the scan is projected onto the photo paper. They all seem to turn out like bad digital photos.

There is a recurring image of my horse, one taken again and again over the years. The way he would look at me when I went out to the field, ears up, eyes bright, poll slightly below wither level - this look is my horse to me. The most familiar image to be treasured.

Horsecare 101

Our vet of many years first met my QH when he was four. It was spring and time for the annual vaccinations. I had phoned around to the local clinics and asked about prices for the basics and ended up making an appointment with Dr. KB. The visit was uneventful, and Dr. KB had time to sit and answer some general questions.

One year later Dr. KB couldn't believe he was seeing the same horse I'd had the year before. Between the ages of four and five my QH grew up and matured. Between five and seven he muscled up and got wider. In full fit competition weight (ie. very slightly ribby) he hit 1343 lbs on the height/weight tape. Proportionally he was built like a classic working QH, but on a larger scale both taller and wider.

Over the years Dr. KB looked after my boys I learned a lot from him. I'd gone for several years with my first horse without needing much in the way of veterinary care, but my QH had a knack for finding new and unusual ways to injure himself. At first I called the vet for every bump and slice, but over time I grew comfortable with treating the problem and waiting for a day or three to see if it would improve. Dr. KB. almost always had some tidbit of information to share with me, some of which became useful later on. Something as simple as sugar for wounds, or as complex as the effects of various joint supplements, or as subtle as the results of a complete blood count.

Accident prone horses can be frustrating to deal with, but they (and their vets) can teach us a lot in a short period of time.

My Student, My Teacher

He was my first green horse. Pretty forgiving of my mistakes - and I'm sure I made a lot of them. When I bought him he could walk, trot, canter, steer, whoa, and stand for mounting - provided I didn't touch his butt when swinging my leg over. I did find that one out the hard way. He started bucking before my butt hit the saddle and I came off a few hops later. I was more careful when I mounted up after catching him again, but within a few days I had arranged for a helper to hold him still while I crawled all over his back and dragged my feet and legs all over his sides. After that the odd bump was of no concern to either of us - except that I always apologized for my clumsiness, and I always teach the babies I start that they must allow that kind of bumping without fuss.

He frustrated me many times, but it was all a part of the learning process. Young, green horses don't move in a straight line either in real life or along the training level. They wobble, the backslide, they leap forward, they forget everything they ever knew. Through it all he taught me that if I focused on the end result, on what I wanted to happen right now we could get there.

He showed me how horses tend to lose their finer control over their bodies when those bodies go through a growth spurt, and that he needed my understanding, encouragement and support to help him work out how everything worked together again. The up and down path of training helped me develop the mindset that allows me to think of and try various approaches to break down activities for a green horse to find understanding and success. I learned that sometimes we teach a response that is unexpected. Somewhere along the way my horse decided that "Good boy!" meant he'd done what was asked and so he could stop doing whatever it was. Most often on the longe after I asked him to "Trot up!" (meaning push more and go forward) he would trot on and I would approve with a "Good boy!" and then immediately have to get on his case again as he dropped back into his lazy trot.

Even as I taught him, trained him, he was teaching me. Those lessons are an integral part of my horse sense now. One lesson in particular carried over into the rest of my life - a story that deserves a post of it's own.

Special Delivery

I had heard of horsehair pottery and somehow imagined pots with horsehair embedded in the glaze on the pot's surface. I couldn't figure out how this could be done as glaze is fired at a high temperature and hair burns very easily. Once I started following links to horsehair pottery sites I quickly discovered that the ease of burning hair is the major part of the process. The hair is applied to a piece fresh from firing and as the hairs burn some carbon and ash are absorbed by the pottery leaving black lines and smoky areas unique to that item.
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After spending a fair bit of time searching for horsehair jewelry sites, and following links to various horsehair pottery sites on the internet I found Donovan Designs. In addition to the usual pots, vases and bowls Denise has various statues in her catalogue one of which is a Quarterhorse bust (head and neck). This looked sufficiently like my horse that I sent her an email and asked about the possibility of having my horse's markings painted on one if I sent photos with my order. Denise responded quickly that she would be happy to do so at no extra cost. I scrounged up some photos (lip spot photos were difficult to find), carefully pulled about thirty hairs from his tail bundle and mailed them off to Denise.
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At the end of last week I received an email from Denise to let me know she was almost finished and expected to ship my order out on Monday. I was excited and even though I knew it would take time to arrive I hopefully looked for a package notice on Tuesday after I saw a postal truck as I was nearing home. The box arrived yesterday and I could hardly wait to get it inside and see the result. Denise did a beautiful job and packaged the piece up securely to ensure that it would arrive safely.
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I cleared a space on my bookshelf immediately, but ended up carrying it around and setting up close at hand to whatever I was doing for the rest of the afternoon and evening just so I could glance up and admire it at any moment. The photo doesn't do it justice at all.
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Denise gave me permission to include a link to Donovan Designs website so here it is:
http://www.myhorseart.com

Fresh Reminders of What Has Passed

It snowed here about three weeks ago. The snow stayed on the ground, fluffy and deep enough to provide some cushion over the frozen earth. There's something special about the first few snowfalls that come before the first thaw. Hacking in the snow, or during a snowfall is just about the most fun that can be had with a horse. After the first falls there's no need to worry about hidden ice until the thaw comes. There aren't any layers of crusty snow and ice to scrape the horses' legs. Just a bouncy trotting horse spraying snow into the air as he asks for a gallop.

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My boy hadn't asked for a gallop for a long time, but we did a lot of hacking in the snow over his last few years. It was great exercise for his stifles. With the first snow came the reminder that I will never take him out for a hack in the snow again. He won't reach out as we pass a snow laden cedar and bend back a branch that will fling it's load all over me as it snaps back when he lets it go. We won't head out into the glow of a moonlit snowscape, or wander through a forest of bare limbed trees as snow gently falls.

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First snow hack without my boy. First Christmas without my boy. I miss him still. These firsts bring back the loss, but without the tearing intensity of the first days after he was gone. It's a bittersweet sadness as the first snow, first hack, first Christmas without him remind me of the times we had together.

In Memory of my Horse

I know I will make the shadow box to hold his halter, but I've been thinking I'd like to do something else to remember my horse by. One of our friends made a donation to the charity of my choice in his memory, which is one option. I think I would like something tangible, useful and visible.

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Another friend plants trees for her dogs. The tree idea appeals to me a lot. It would be alive, long standing, and cast some pleasant shade once it grows large enough. Perhaps I could plant it out at the barn in a place where shade would be nice to have. I would see it often, and it would remind me of him.

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I have also been looking at horsehair jewelry and pottery sites on the internet. There are some beautiful items out there. I don't wear jewelry, and probably wouldn't even if it were my horse's hair so that seems a bit pointless. Something will catch my eye and work it's way into being the right choice.

The Spirit That Was My Horse

It's been a month now. The hole is filling with memories of life and I find myself drawing him back by telling people what he used to do, what he was like. Some of us were talking about our horses reactions when we go out in the field - variations on walking or turning away until we get close and then turning to us as if surprised to see us there. My boy used to watch for me at night and his distinctive whinny would come out of the darkness when he saw me take my other horse back out to a different field. As if to remind me not to forget to come down and bring him up for his dinner.

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I remember more details. Things to remember for next time, for sure as I loved him I will be making the decision again for other horses. His issue caused him well hidden pain for a very long time, even before we identified the problem. His subconcious, instincts told him that a lame horse was vulnerable and I used to call him my quarter horse, three quarter chicken because he was such a chicken. I wanted him to know that this pain and the fear it caused did not define who he was. The pain and fear must be left behind. He should take his great courage and generosity for these defined the spirit that was my horse.

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I still miss him dearly, but the great gaping sense of loss has eased and I now remember him in life before death.