Women, Horses, and their Horsey Friends

A few years ago, I was called to an early morning emergency. An older draft horse was down on the ice. It was a very sad case and in the end, the horse was euthanized. It is a situation I have seen before and I am sure I will see it again. What really struck me about this situation was the people that came to help. The horse’s owner was a woman, I am guessing 30 something but could totally be wrong, winter clothes, hats, and scarves can make some details hard to distinguish. When I arrived it was just her and a young man from down the street who had come to cut down a small tree that was in the way. He had to leave shortly after that, and it was just her and I and 2000 pounds of horse.

Let me digress here for a moment and describe how we get these horses up. When a horse has been down on one side for a while that side essentially goes to sleep. So we often try to flip them onto their other side so their stronger leg is now the down leg, as the down hind leg does the lion’s share of the pushing to get a horse up. As you can imagine this is not an easy task and it is a dangerous job. Some horses will react violently to being rolled, kicking and thrashing their legs. It takes careful use of ropes, brute strength, teamwork, and good timing to be successful.

So here I am, looking at a very large horse, who was in a very bad situation, and my only help is his rather little owner. I went to my truck to get some fluids, anti-inflammatories, and steroids, and to think about what to do. As I was getting things together a rather small woman came down the drive, past me and into the paddock. By the time all the meds were organized two more women had passed me. I knelt behind his neck, on a horse blanket someone put there for me, placed an IV catheter, and started his fluids. A hand reached out and took the first bag and began squeezing it in. More blankets arrived, someone fed the other horses, and when I asked for ropes I had six ropes in less than a minute.

When I looked up after giving all of the medications, I had six women in front of me. None were large women, and they ranged in age from early 20s to probably 50’s. They all spoke in first names, clearly familiar with and a fan of the large horse in front of me and his devastated owner. Some of these women were dressed for the cold, some had clearly run out the door not stopping for their Carhartts, and I realized the owner was still in her pajamas. I was not sure if her shaking was from fear, cold, exhaustion, or all of the above. Two women had their hands on the owner’s shoulders, two were petting the horse, and two had armfuls of rope.

We had our team.

We looped ropes around the pasterns of his down legs, put three women on the back leg rope, two on the front, and his owner to help with his head. It took two tries and boy did he kick, but six little women and I rolled that big old horse on to his other side. As soon as he was over they let go of the ropes like I had asked them to do and he made one really good effort to stand, and failed. Hay appeared for traction, he was offered grain and they tried to help him stay sternal. We yelled at him, we hit him, we poked fingers in his ears. We brought his friends in, we pulled on him.

And, I watched him give up.

Horses have a light in their eye, a glow from within. I have heard it called energy, life force, and many other things. But horse people know what I am talking about.

A split second after I saw it, his owner did too.

She stood up and backed away from her beloved horse, 15 feet away she turned away and her shoulders shook, for the first time all morning she cried. Her friends stayed with her horse, talking to him, begging him to get up. They wanted to save that horse as much for their friend’s sake as for his sake. But he was gone. He was still breathing, still following with his eyes, but he was gone.

One of the women, one of the younger women, broke off from the group and went to the owner. Her arms encircled her and they cried together. I gave them a minute then approached, putting my hand on her shoulder, tears running down my face. “I can’t beat a dead horse any longer,” she said. I told her she was right, he wasn’t going to get up and asked her what she wanted to do.

She wanted to be alone with him.

I walked back to this amazing animal and told the group what she wanted. Everyone bent over, patted him, and walked out of that paddock.

As I drew up the euthanasia solution I looked over at an amazing animal, in his final moments, with his head in the lap of his best friend. They both looked so vulnerable, so defeated by fate.

Then I looked to the right, and five women stood watching them, a cold, damp, and bedraggled colorguard.

When I euthanize a horse I gain comfort knowing that I have ended suffering, pain, stress. But I also know I have caused suffering, pain, heartbreak, grief, and loneliness. Horses and their owners are teams, and I have broken that team. I am leaving an owner alone with their grief and I feel so impotent and useless because I cannot help them. Vets are action people, and we are powerless to help our clients and friends and fellow horse people. It is absolutely the worst feeling. I felt all of this looking at this pair, but that group of women gave me hope. They would be there for her, they would grieve with her and for her. She would not be alone.

As I left I hugged that owner and told her she had an amazing group of friends. She nodded her head, choked up. I watched them walk up the hill together and I thought of all the groups of women I work with. Horsey friends are just not like any other kind of friend and are part of what makes being a horse person so fun. I thanked mine that day, and am thankful for them every day. So take a minute to acknowledge all the amazing women and men you have as horsey friends. They are a huge part of what makes this lifestyle so special. And to those five women who came to help on that cold sad day, thank you, again.