The old stallion...

[OldHorseman]

   It was kind of a dirty trick they played on the blood-red colt back in that Dixie Summer when a peanut farmer was in the White House...  He followed his momma onto the 20' stock trailer only to be trapped in the front half when they turned her around and led her off, slamming the gate to keep him in.

   A couple of hours later he was at his new home.  My opinion of the colt was confirmed when I worked my way to the front section of the trailer.  Although he had virtually no human handling, he faced me rather than sticking his nose in a far corner.  I knew his bloodline.  Not just the three century pedigree, but the two paternal half-siblings I'd worked with for years before.

   I was able to slip a halter on him before he had a chance to decide whether to resist or not.  And, as I was a strapping Young Horseman in those days, simply slid him to the back of the trailer and lifted him down.  I gave him a double-stall until he got socialized.  Which didn't take long.

   For the next couple of years I took him with me whenever and wherever possible.  His lead line either tucked into my back pocket when I was afoot, or dallied around the saddle horn when I was riding the oversized leopard appaloosa gelding who served as my primary mount and the colt's mentor.  By the time the sorrel was old enough to be ridden, he was completely accustomed to bonfires, crowds, motorcycles, gunfire, crossing water, chasing cows, dogs, snakes, alligators, and pretty much everything else.

   He and I lived and worked on over a dozen farms of different kinds over the years.  I rode him from chest-deep in the foam of the great salt sea to the higher parts of the ancient mountain trails, from the Mason-Dixon down to Kissimmee cattle country, and everywhere in-between.  Mostly a ranch cowhorse, we did the occasional rodeo, chukker of polo, and hunt-camp.  He was quite a change from the big bulldozer appy in the woods, as the stallion slipped through the brush like a deer, and not being a veritable walking neon sign, we often walked-up to within a length of wildlife.  The horse had phenomenal stamina.  An relaxed handgallop was his favorite way of going.  I'd check him to a walk every four or five miles to see if he needed to blow.  He never did.

   Every now and then a pretty girl would ask me real nice and I'd let him be borrowed for barrel racing, pole bending, and hunter over fences showing.  He loved the attention, but we did have to coach the girls on how to handle a horse as soft-mouthed and fast out of the hole as he was.

   To this day I've never owned an automobile less than ten years old.  When I wanted to go out in-style, I took a horse, and the sorrel stud was as stylish as it gets.  Twenty-some years ago I rode him out to court the gal who wound up becoming my wife.

   Later, she rode him in two and three day competitive distance trail events.  At the evening riders' briefing before her first such event, the judges warned competitors that there was a stallion competing.  The next morning, everyone assumed the stallion was the walker-cross bucking sideways through the camp area.  No one realized it was the sorrel remaining stoic despite the idiot who (ignoring the yellow warning ribbon in the stud's tail) literally ran her horse into him at the P&R checkpoint.

   When we wound up running a big, private Paso-Fino farm, we found that the psychotic little buggers were beyond what the wife's big gelding had the patience to tolerate.  So the stud got drafted into ponying the monsters.

   A bit over a decade ago, he was the first horse we brought over to the farm-in-progress to help me re-survey the property lines way back in the woods, and camp here with me and the Akita while I got the basics built enough for the wife and the rest of the herd to come join us.

   Over the years he missed two days work due to a hoof abscess caused by stepping on a nail, and had one non-routine vet call for mild colic, which he recovered from before the vet could get there.

   Only in the last couple of years has he shown his age...  Yesterday evening he whickered at me from his paddock in a distressed voice.  I went to him and realized he'd had a heart-attack on his feet.  Knowing it probably wouldn't do any good, I gave him a dose of aspirin.  He seemed to feel better for a little while, but then laid down and was distressed again.  No quit in the old cuss, he rolled upright and started to try and get up a couple of times.  I was about to perform the duty I'd been dreading for a very long time when the old guy did one last service for me by simply fading into sleep while I held his head.

   I spent today burying him in the rock-hard ground of the farm that we named for his only natural marking.  The place that was his home several times longer than any of the other farms he's known.  It probably won't be long before his favorite mare, the wife's old pinto-colored mustang, gets the grave next to him.

 Paddock #1 is empty for the first time ever.

[Dasha]

What a wonderful tribute to your friend. Thank you for sharing it. I'm very sorry for your loss.
Dasha

[speaksoftly]

Horseman, I'm so sorry. I've lost elderly mares (37 and 32) that I've raised. You have my most heartfelt sympathy. I'm so glad he went peacefully.

[motherearth]

Old Horseman,
I can't even see the screen to type I am crying so hard.

I saw the sbject line and I thought Oh No, I'll bet one of OH's horses went.
But I never dreamed I would read such a beautiful tribute, such a memorial to the partnership and friendship between horse and human.

I am so sorry for you and your family.
I will think of you while doing chores and appreciate my jhorses even more nnow.

mother

[lady-t]

damn

 

[commonsensical]

What a beautiful tribute to the best sort of horse that could be. I'm very sorry for your loss 

[SideHillnDirtPoor]

 


               Really sorry Hoss...............   It'll hurt for a long time tooo.  Ain't a day goes by I don't think about that big black stud of mine.          heres something you gave to me a couple of yrs ago. Time for me to return the favor

A HORSES PRAYER

Feed me, water me and care for me.
When my days work is done provide me with shelter, a clean dry bed,
and a stall wide enough to lie down in comfort.
Talk to me, your voice often means as much to me as the reins.
Pet me sometimes, that I may serve you the more gladly and learn to love you.

Do not jerk the reins and do not whip me when going up hill.
Never strike, beat or kick me when I do not understand what you mean,
but give me a chance to understand. Watch me and if I fail to do your bidding,
see if something is wrong with my harness or my feet.

Examine my teeth when I do not eat. I may have an ulcerated tooth that is very painful.
Do not tie my head in unnatural positions,
or take away my best defense against flies by cutting off my tail.
(I don't take away your mosquito curtains.)

Don't smoke in my barn or leave me tied overnight and
perhaps burn me to death while you are sleeping in your comfortable bed.
And last, my master when my strength is gone,
do not turn me out in a pasture with no shelter and let me freeze to death,
or sell me to some cruel owner to be slowly starved or worked to death.
Take my life in the kindest way, and your God will reward you - hereafter.

~ Author Unknown ~

[residualheat]

OldHorseman, that's a beautiful tribute to your friend. I'm glad for you both that he went peacefully and it's good that you have so many wonderful memories. I hope it will help to ease the sadness that comes with losing animal friends.

[DoomNymph]

I'm so sorry, OH.

Your story and your love from him left me in tears, too.

He was a good horse.  He was lucky to have such a good friend in you.

[kats]

Ah, Hoss. That had me weeping. Much sympathy.

[PseudoPhil]

OH -

   Sincere condolences on the loss of your friend and partner.

Peace -

Phil

[Athina]

Old Horseman,

My condolences on the loss of your old friend 

Athina

[fredd58]

Damn, horseman, I'm sorry for your loss...

[StrangeFire]

Shit. Made me cry.

Sorry, OH...

[DraftLady]

OldHorseman,
     I am so sorry for your loss.  I, too, had a stallion from the age of 2 (him, not me ) until he was 28 (lost  him in 2002).  He was the best 'kid' horse around.  The steadiest ride.  Too many good qualities to list.  I swore there wouldn't be another one like him but your story proved me wrong.  Sounds like you had one just like I did.  But believe me - they aren't created every day.  Its horses like these that teach us to look for more like them.  I'm not going to waste my time on a bad horse - nor am I going to spend my money on one.  When they are good ones - well, there just isn't any comparison.  Hang in there. 

Draftlady