08/02/2023
“Give a good horse a good death, one of kindness and dignity.”
That statement sums up the articles I’ve been researching for information and closure on knowing when it’s time to humanely euthanize an aging horse- especially when it is one of the best creatures to ever walk this earth. I need to thank a few people who have helped me along this most recent and incredibly emotional journey. Jamie has been a mentor and a voice of reason and kindness and I can’t thank her enough for that. Austin for being there to support me when I was waivering and kept trying to keep him going, and being kind when I finally realized it was time. Horse husbands are the best husbands, by far. And Jackie, for listening and comforting and understanding; supporting, agreeing, and helping with this incredibly big decision. And for trusting me with this horse (and Leo). Your trust and faith in me means the world to me.
To our Vets (Coosa Valley- all Drs, Southern Equine- Dr. O, Equine Services- Dr. B, Branchville- Dr. P and T, Pell City- Dr. F, Equine Dentistry- Dr. E) for all the knowledge over the years I’ve gained from you that guided my decisions and for your sacrifices because I understand the emotional toll euthanasia services take on you all- I see you and I thank you.
And lastly, the biggest thank you to Chief, who will understand in due time why we made this decision, a decision to help ease him into his hereafter, a better place, even though our place will never be the same.
Chief has lived 36 wonderful years. 36 years full of making memories that will last 2 generations of riders a lifetime. 3 of those years were spent being loved by our oldest son, Chase, whose very first independent ride on a horse was on Chief, and whose lasting impact on ours son’s life will be measured in his confidence that grew from that lofty perch and from his choppy gait- if you could post and lope on Chief- you could post and lope on anything. Our memories don’t come from the number of lessons Chief taught- but the love he gave during them. They don’t come from the way he could turn himself into his own stall at feeding time- it was the nudge he’d give you if you didn’t get out of his way.
They come from his nicker that sounded like you were cold starting a suped-up car on a winter morning. They come from the heart-shaped patch of fur on his side- the one now imprinted in our memories.
Chief spent so much of his life letting others experience the absolute best thing in the entire world- the freedom, thrill, and love of riding and loving a horse. There are so many memories tied to this horse that it is doing him a disservice to write anything less than a dissertation.
My heart aches with the upcoming rainbow bridge crossing of Chief, but I’m going to go back to the words I typed earlier: “give good horses a good death.”
And because the horse world can be so wonderful, but equally as awful, I’m going to address what led Jackie and I to this decision because I know someone, somewhere will have something negative to say, or a remedy Chief doesn’t need (like more tumeric, so stay in your lane if you’re going to advise me to supplement a 36 y/o toothless horse with tumeric).
Several months ago we noticed Chief laying down more (and getting bed sores), not coming in as quick to eat, not finishing his food, more and more quid, choking… we tried every method and swapping and changing that can be done to a horse that is toothless and 36 y/o. It became clear after watching his weight decline to a point that I wasn’t comfortable with that we had only one choice to make- a good death, instead of a long, painful death. If you disagree or have the audacity to even think every thing hasn’t been tried- please press that delete button as quick as you can. Let us allow Chief to peacefully live on in our memories. He deserves it.
Kind thoughts, encouraging words, fond memories, and pictures- all the pictures, are gladly welcomed. Any nastiness- is not.
