For the Love of a Horse – One Year Later

Today is the one year anniversary of the death of my beloved horse Bigum, whose loss left a big hole in my heart. This is for him.

Bigum’s 25th Birthday – I brought him Carrot Cake

On September 6^th, 2008 I got a call around 9:30am. I saw that is was Susan, and I answered the phone with a little trepidation, but we had just talked the day before, so I thought maybe there was something else she needed to tell me. Whenever she called me, she would always start the conversation by saying, “Big’s ok, I’m just calling about” whatever. That was so I would know right away that all was well, and I didn’t have to worry.

I answered and said, Hi Susan, how are you? Is everything ok”? Her answer today was... “No Kelly…. Everything is not ok…Bigum died last night”.

“Died? Bigum Died last night”, I screamed. The finality of that statement hit me so hard. There was nothing I could do, I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t come to the rescue anymore. I couldn’t save him because he was already gone. It’s like losing a loved one in a tragic accident, and you don’t have the chance to say goodbye. To give them a hug, look in their eyes and tell them how much you loved them.

My husband, son and I made the 10 minute drive over to the property where my horse had lived for the past 3 1/2 years since bringing him on the long trek from upstate, NY to Encinitas, CA. He resided in a big pasture at the end of a long windy road in beautiful horse country. I knew I would never again drive that road in excitement to see my horse.

As we neared the end of the road I couldn’t look. I knew my horse would be lying there, and I could not bring myself to have that memory etched in my brain forever. I stared down and wept. We went through the gates and made our first left turn onto the driveway and drove up to Susan’s house. Her husband came out and gave me a hug and told me how sorry he was.

I stood there, not sure of what to next. I felt like I couldn’t look down the hill, because I was afraid at what I would see. But I knew I had to go to him. I was drawn there, and so as I walked down the hill, the hill I always had a big smile on because I knew my boy would be waiting for me, I saw my big beautiful horse, laying there. He wouldn’t come down to greet me today, like he had since I had ever known. He was lying in the hot sun, lifeless. Bloating. Dead.

I sat next to him and just wept. I was in shock. What had happened? He still had his fly mask and fly sheet on and I removed his fly mask to see his eyes. He didn’t look like the same horse. He wasn’t. His eyes were white and glossed over. I had seen so much love in those big brown eyes. Love that you know will never go away no matter what you do – so unconditional - I feel lucky to have been loved just so much.

Even as a young teenager, this horse had helped me get through the toughest times. We had a special bond. Through the years when I didn’t know where he was, and then, when I felt with everything I had that I had to find this horse, NOW. It was that bond that brought us back together. There was something very special about this beautiful animal that no one or no thing can ever replace. He made my soul joyful.
The days of the ‘real life’ gifts he would give me were over. Now all I had were memories, and so I was going to take my time saying goodbye.

My good friend Lynn came to be by my side and to offer support. She had loved Bigum too. She helped me cut some of him mane and tail to have forever. There were certain parts of his tail and mane that I wanted; the curly part and the gray part. I made it my responsibility to know every inch of him so that if anything changed I would know it. So if there was anything I needed to call the vet for, he would be called. In the end, I had no say, no choice to make.

Susan came down to give me a hug. She told me later on that he was the last horse holding her to the property that she was selling. That she now felt like she could leave more easily. She would have worried about him; he was special. They weren’t all like him, she said. He was smart. They say that horses can have the mental capacity of a three year old child. “Well”, she said “there are some really smart three years old children”. I found that poignant at the time, since I had a very precocious three year old at home, and when he saw how much pain I was in that day, he just seemed to want to comfort me. He was unusually patient and sweet the days following Bigum’s death.

When Ramone had come up to give Susan the news that morning, she had called my vet, who happened to live ½ mile away. He came over immediately and it was his opinion that Bigum had not suffered. It looked as if his heart had simply stopped beating.

I later spoke with him on the phone and he confirmed this as well, adding that he felt that I would have done anything to save him, even if he couldn’t have been saved. That he felt it would have been so hard for me to have made the call to put him to sleep, which is what so many horse owners typically have to do. He went on the tell me that in 17 years of being a vet, he had only seen a horse die naturally like this in the night, one other time. He felt that in some way, this was the best way he could have gone. I knew he was right and that having to put my horse down some day would have been overwhelmingly difficult for me, and I probably would have lived with guilt thereafter.

But when I had left him at 6pm the night he died, I had made sure he was set. Made up his bags of food with his supplements, talked to Susan while doing all this and had ironically asked her “so, how has he been the last few days?” It had been hot that week and I had come out to spray him off with water, but I hadn’t had the chance to spend a lot of time that week because I had just put my house on the market.

Susan later reminded me that I had asked that as it had some importance now. She felt he was doing fine. So I had rinsed off his legs that night and told him I would see him tomorrow. But, I didn’t say “I love you Big” like I had practically every time I had left him in the last years of his life. It was painful for me to think about that now.

After sitting in the dirt next to my companion, I finally got up and slowly walked to my car with my husband and son. I turned to look at him many times and recalled how much joy this animal had brought me just by the way he greeted me when I came to see him. Even though I knew it was just his body laying there, it was so hard for me to leave him. To see him for the last time. And even though those last memories are not pleasant ones, it was necessary. I don’t know if it was closure or just the reality and finality of seeing his body lifeless. I knew this wonderful period of my life, of having this horse in my life in one way or another for 22yrs…was over.

Now I needed to make another decision…

I had been riding my other horse Cory for the past 1 ½ years, and we had achieved a lot in that time frame. I had searched over a year for a horse to show again, and after spending a lot of time with vet checks and trials, he had shown up at my barn. The people he was brought there for decided against him, and that was my lucky break.

My goal was to win a year end award in my division, Adult Amateurs Hunters. The award was a shiny new tack truck, and I wanted to win this as opposed to buying one to replace my 20 year old plastic trunk. Cory had been my teammate in achieving that goal. We had shown quite extensively in 2007, but not at all in 2008 because of some health problems.

I had horrible fatigue. And with that fatigue came a lot of problems with my riding, and after having a few close calls I started to get scared. It had taken me most of the show season to get back to my former jumping height, and I had finally decided to take Cory to a show after nine months off.
That show started today. The day Bigum died.

I struggled with what to do. Cory was at the show; I had done my warm-ups the day before and done well. But I was an emotional mess. I kept thinking “I can’t do this”, but something inside me kept saying “you have to do it”. It was quite a strange internal conversation I had – and the fighter won out. I decided to show. I got there and was greeted with hugs, and I realized this was exactly where I needed to be. Amongst other people who knew Bigum, or who just loved their own horse. They understood what I was going through.

We warmed up over some jumps and then started walking over to the ring where I would show. Typically I would have been quite nervous, but my mind was on ‘other things’. I looked at my course and then entered the arena. I walked in the ring, got my canter and proceeded to jump my course. We had a great ride.

All those months of anxiety and worry about my distances and getting over the jumps seemed like a distant memory. We had a great go round and I came down to a trot. I heard someone yelling and I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I continued to break down to a walk, and then I heard “you missed you last line!” Ughh! I quickly picked up my canter and finished my course, but at that point, I would be out of the ribbons.
I came out and just had to laugh. It was like Big was there telling me – don’t take all this too serious. I went in for my second round and that time I didn’t miss. I nailed it and I won my class.

After I took Cory back and gave him some carrots, I went to the judge and expressed to her how much I appreciated that blue ribbon and to thank her. I told her that I had just lost my horse and I hadn’t thought I could ride today, but I did it for him and that the blue ribbon was for him. She was very gracious and gave me a hug. Then she told me I would have won them both had I not left out the last line.

During one of the most difficult days in my life, I rose up and fought. I’m proud that I didn’t go home and go to bed like I wanted to. I continued on with my plan and pushed myself through it. That sad day wasn’t all dark, there was one good memory of finishing my class and knowing that what I had worked towards wasn’t derailed and that I had that to celebrate.

The last year has been challenging, and there have been times when I wish I could go see my big beautiful boy and tell him about it all. I wish I could see that loving look in his eyes, ears forward, head down, walking as quickly as he could towards me.

Today, I went to church because I knew I needed to thank Him for answering my prayers that spring day in 2004 when Cindy answered the phone and told me that she had my horse Bigum. Because in finding my horse 4 ½ years ago after searching for almost 10 years - finding him in a front yard of a woman who had the grace to let me have him back – I knew there was a God and He was with me that day. I will never question that. Thank you.
The story of Bigum to follow…..