An empty stable…
Many, many years ago, I had a very wise vet. He was an excellent vet, but more than that, he actually got horses… he understood them as living, breathing beings, and he got the horse – human connection, which isn’t always that common in vets…. Many times, the vet sees the horse as a science project, or a mass of cells, blood, bone and muscle to be medicated. (Not all – but if you have a good vet, hang on to them… Make sure you give them a coffee when they are dashing around on their visits…)
This week, a friend and client lost her horse. He was such a dude, loved by all, a really genuine good soul. He was in his teens, healthy, sound, happy…. And then, just like that, he was gone. When I was reading her messages, I was crying with her.
So, back to my vet. When I had my own horses and he was the one treating them, I also lost one of them. The horse had something called African Horse Sickness and death comes slowly and painfully, with days of thinking things will get better, then worse, then better, then worse… And you keep going, because there is just enough hope that maybe the horse can live, especially if he is fighting and wanting to stick around. They say that if you get to 14 days with AHS, you’re pretty much home and dry… My horse died on day 13. I walked away from him saying that was it – I would never have another horse and would re-home all the ones I still had standing in my yard. I was done – I wasn’t going through that again.
And that vet sat down and said something that I will never forget…
If a horse can die, and you can walk away without a little bit of your heart being ripped out, then that horse was never yours – there was no connection, next time buy a bicycle. Having a horse – being connected to a horse – is not about the amount of money you spend on the best feed supplements, the matchy matchy saddle pads or the lessons with the fancy trainer. It’s not about the ribbons you win, the jumps you clear, or the dressage tests you score 70%. Having a horse is about the feel of his breath down the back of your neck when you hug him, and the telepathic communication between your brain and his when you are working through understanding a new trail or exercise… Feeling his thoughts at the end of your reins… It’s about the buzz you get when you grab his bridle and go to ride him, hearing the almost-silent, under-his-breath nicker when he sees you in the morning, and sitting on him, feeling his heart beating under your leg while you are watching a herd of elephants or a sunrise unfold in front of you… Having a horse, truly, is having a best friend. And when they leave, they should rip your heart out. When they go, they should take a piece of you with them, but equally, even though their physical body has left, they’ll leave a piece of themselves with you too.
If you can lose a horse, walk away and go shopping for a replacement the next day, truly, buy a bicycle instead. Having a horse is a massive investment of love, time, passion and hope… And, if it leaves you feeling as if you could never do it again – well then, give it a month, two months, six months… And the next little whiskery muzzle will find it’s way into your pocket searching for that last scrap of carrot…
Love your pony while you have him – give him an extra hug today. And, if today you have an empty stable or paddock – be gentle with yourself… He’s still there with you, even if you can’t see him…
