Death

There is little room in this job to get philosophical about things. And there's always the danger that if you do, your heart will break.

Some weeks are more full of death than others. Just when you feel like you've had a week of success, it's like God himself looks down and decides to remind you not only of the fragility of life, but of the limits of your abilities. Some cases you can't save, no matter what you do. It's a part of this job that you have to accept and embrace.

Death came storming through this week, and it had a vengeance. In a week and a half, we had six horses euthanized, and another that is on the schedule.

I sometimes wonder how horses would feel if they could see our schedule and see that their death is there, in print, destined to be carried out at 11:00 or 2:30, at the hospital or at the farm. I wonder what they would think if they knew how we picked our doctors to do the euthanasia, or that when we're told it's happening we just continue on with our day, death barely a blip on our radar.

This week we had a particular case that bothered me. A doctor and I went to see a 35 year old gelding who was reported to be colicing. When we arrived, the horse had a heart rate of 60 (normal is ~40) and was clearly bloated. Upon palpation, our doctor discovered completely dry feces filled with acorns, and felt several large and rock solid impactions.

The horse's fate was sealed at that moment.

I couldn't help but imagine this gelding's life. He was a pony, with one ear flopping listlessly to the side and fur matted with sweat and dirt. How many children had ridden him? How many carrots had he eaten, or kisses on the nose had he received? Was he loved? Was he used? What did he think of these strangers now at this point in his life, when he was alone and in pain, prodding and poking and bothering him? But most of all...

Did he know that someone was hurting for him right then?

Death can be ugly and death can be beautiful. There are two sides to the coin. When I see a horse in pain gently slump to the ground, and I know that their pain is over, I see the beauty in it. I see the beauty in holding them in their final moments, and letting them know that even if it is only in that moment, they are loved.

Once a spirit leaves a body, there is no more beauty in life passing on to something greater and better. The smell of death seeps into your very heart, and sometimes I'm convinced I smell it even after I've been home for hours and showered. Every death leaves a stamp on your heart that you'll never forget. I know the name of every single horse that has died in my arms - all 5 of them. So here's to my friends who have taught me lessons I will never forget. And here's to Death, for it is truly the great equalizer.

Buddy.
Poppi.
Helga.
Dusty.
Jett.