March 2011 Agatha
It is not the kind of thing I want to write about but I think I owe it to a grieving horse owner and her horse to at least remember the few months we boarded Aggie at Fossil Ridge Farm. Agatha (her full name)was born in Germany. Her breeding was regal. She was a Hanoverian, a breed that carried hot Arabian blood as well as the blood of the cold climate horses like the Clydesdales.
In her time she had been a talented dressage horse, she may have also been a jumper, but I am not sure about that. More than that, she was a personable horse who nickered to you and was always friendly. A beautiful dark bay, she stood over 16 hands tall and had a lovely face and alert eyes. When she came to our barn she was 23 yrs old and had already had a bout with colic that almost took her life. We were feeding her supplements as well as a special oil to help prevent it from happening again.
But on the morning of December 24th 2010 we found her, waiting for someone to come so she could let go. She was leaning against the side of the barn, head down, covered with sweat and saliva where she had been biting at her sides. No telling how long she had suffered. We automatically got a halter on her and tried to walk her a few steps to see if it would relieve her. She collapsed in that spot and died within minutes. She probably suffered what is often fatal to a horse, a twisted gut or severe colic.
Now, more than two months later I grieve for her in the only way I can when I lose an animal who had such presence; with sadness but appreciation for the beauty she brought into my life. I came across this poem written by another horse owner who had lost her horse. This is for Aggie and for Kayla I wanted to share it with everyone.
MY HORSE’S WISH
Could you bed me down with kindness
on the soft sweet words of love?
Could you ride me in your finest
with hands light as a dove?
Could you teach me with old wisdom
by the laws of just and fair?
Could you be my friend forever
with a trust so true and rare?
Could you meet me on the morrow
with grasses green and sweet?
Could you free me without sorrow
on the plains of loam and wheat?
Could you say farewell with honor
on the day my life is through?
And remember me forever
as I shall remember you?
(From Mary D. Midkiff on the loss of her horse, Theodora.)