Put my mare down yesterday

[krisinmi]

Just wanted to post here, as you will all understand how I'm feeling.  One of the tough parts of horse ownership, if you are in it long enough, is deciding when to end their life.

Dolly was 26.  I owned her for nearly 15 years, but first met her as a yearling in 1990 when I went to work at the farm she had been born at.  Met up with her again years later, and ended up buying her as a green broke (but not ridden in 8 years) 12 year old.  Trained her myself up to approximately 2nd Level in dressage (never showed, so not sure exactly where she measured up in her training).  Lots of good rides on her, and also lots of frustrating rides where she taught me alot.  She was a sassy but also lazy horse; I was never ever afraid of her running off--she was just too lazy for bolting.  

This past winter, I started noticing signs of neurological issues in her hindquarters, coupled with some muscle atrophy.  Through the year it has progressed to the point that her balance in her hind end was not good enough that I wanted her to have to deal with rough or icy ground, or even moving through deep snow.  So yesterday I had her put to sleep.

Goodbye, Dolly-mare.

[here to stay]

Heart wenching to have to make such a decision. I'm so sorry.

[mollymckee]

I'm so sorry, we all know how it hurts. I try to dwell on all I would have missed had I not had the animal.

[aoconnor]

Aw, I'm so sorry you had to make that difficult choice. My heart goes out to you.

[shellymay]

Sorry you had to do this (hugs)

[mzgarden]

So sorry. Glad you had so many years together.

[Deleted]

So very sorry for your loss. It's never easy to say good bye to a good old friend.

[motdaugrnds]

((hugs)) I feel so badly for you. I know how difficult that was to put your beloved Dolly down. (Many if not all of us have had such experiences and it is never easy.) At least you had many years of enjoyment with her and she was blessed to have been with you all that time. I doubt you ever get over the empty feeling that gave you. I know I haven't when I had to put down my beloved Roman. When the pain of it comes up, it is good to turn that into joy by remembering the fun times you've had with Dolly. ((hugs))

[horseyrider]

krisinmi, that is the most difficult thing, when the time comes that we realize it's going to get harder, and it's never going to get easier. I suppose it's the price we pay for having good horses in our lives for so long.

The last two I lost took the decision from my hands. A few weeks ago my old pony died in the night. He was getting a little frail, but still seemed ready to face winter in his tough pony way. His organs simply shut down. The one before that looked like he had a blockage, but he suddenly died at the end of my leadrope at the horsepital, just nine years old, from a ruptured aorta. The one before that left me with little choice; she was colicky, and before the vet could get there, she was squirting jets of bright red blood against the wall of her stall, and no medicine could make a dent in her pain. These still leave us with grief; but the ones where we wonder "What's one more day?" are by far the hardest, and take the most courage on the part of the owner.

Isn't it funny how, in the days after, it feels weird going out to do chores? Like a part of us still expects them to greet us. Instead we're greeted with an empty stall, a halter for nobody, and a hole in our hearts.

[Maura]

You are brave, you put your horse ahead of your own feelings. ((hugs))

[manygoatsnmore]

I'm so sorry...we've all been there, and can share your pain. You can at least take comfort from knowing you did what was right for your sweet Dolly.

[solargeek]

So sorry for you.

[bergere]

Very sorry for your loss. ((hugs)

[krisinmi]

Thanks, everyone. Your kind words mean a lot.

I have, through the course of over 30 years of horse involvement, been present for the end of life of many horses, including my children's pony. I knew that putting down Dolly, my own personal horse, was going to be a little harder emotionally than it was to hold the horses owned by others for their euthanasia.

But boy, the sense of loss afterward just really took me by surprise. I'm used to shedding a few tears over the death of horses I'd worked with professionally. I guess I thought that putting Dolly down would be like that, but with a few more tears that day. And then life would go on.

Not so. I found myself openly weeping (but not in public, I have always had a thing about not crying in public) off and on for hours afterward. And tearing up out of nowhere the next day. And the next. And even a little bit yesterday. I had brought Dolly's grooming box home after her death, with the intent of washing up all the brushes, etc, and then deciding which of my other two horses would get the benefit of 'inheriting' Dolly's special personal stuff (like my original Grooma and the super gentle little Grooma I used on her face). But the box still sits, untouched, on the chair in my bedroom. I just keep looking at them, but not touching, and coming up with other tasks that need to be done instead (like sew Christmas presents for my niece and my granddaughter, or put up Christmas decorations, or wash the shower curtain. . .)

My hubby, who is not at all a horse person, has been amazingly kind over this whole thing. He even cooked dinner the night I put Dolly to sleep (he rarely ever cooks because he works til 6ish most nights, and I am off work by 1 p.m. everyday).

[horseyrider]

krisinmi , grief is a funny thing. Sometimes it comes in waves. I've done similar, not wanting to let go of the last bit of that horse's presence. Right now the pony's stall is empty, and it'll stay empty until the right horse earns the privilege of standing in it. I've felt that way before, when the mare mentioned above died. When I weaned my Friesian mare's colt, finally he went in her old stall. Now, his little sister lives there.

Years ago my daughter had a mare named Penny. DD was only able to ride her for a handful of years before the mare's heaves got bad enough that she needed to be retired. The mare lived another fifteen years, pasture sound, until it was her time. It took another twelve years after that before I passed that sweet, gentle mare's halter on to another horse. I don't know why, and it doesn't make any rational sense; but it simply wasn't the time, and it wasn't right.  Then for some reason, it was.

Right now, the brushes are a connection to a horse that was precious to you, and to a part of yourself. You'll know when it's time to pass them along.

[manygoatsnmore]

I understand. When I had to put down my sweet 17 year old cat I'd had longer than 2 of my 4 kids, I thought I'd have to comfort Abby, who'd loved Sniffy beyond anything. She wanted to be there, and I allowed her to pet him as he passed. And then I just went to pieces. Sat in the car and cried and cried, while Abby held my hand and told ME it would be okay. Really took me totally by surprise just how much it hurt to lose that dear, sweet snaggle-toothed, rumple-eared, drooling-when-he-purred old man. I still get a bit teary when I think about it, like right now, even though it's been many years and the good memories have far outweighed the last bad one.

Take all the time you need before tackling that tack box - it's be there when you're ready, and you'll know when the time is right.

[bluelacedredhead]

So sorry for your loss.