Goodbye Old Girl

   In 1984 when I first moved to Connecticut as a 19 year old,  I fell hard for a farrier and a filly.  Not long after, the farrier flew the coop, and that was a good thing.  The filly stayed with me, though,  and she has remained on the edges of my life ever since.  I bought her with a saddle that no longer fit my needs and money I had saved which should have gone toward my education,  although this mare GAVE me an education.   We were both green… she was not yet broke and I was broke but not yet knowledgeable in training a young horse.  We learned together and we did just fine without fancy trainers or an expensive lesson program. Many an hour was spent on the trails, with some ring work to fine tune the rough edges… although ringwork has never been a passion for either one of us. 

   As the years rolled on and my family grew,   I rode deeper in to the horse world and wanted a more athletic horse that would help me expand my horizons.  I wasn’t ready to let go of Kid, so I found someone through a mutual friend who would lease her on my little farm.  H and I became great friends, and she soon came to love Kid as her own.  Eventually, she bought Kid outright and has loved and cared for her ever since.  This has not always been an easy feat… Kid was a MARE.  And if you are a horse person, you know what I’m talking about. She was the little girl with the curl.  

   Sadly, at the age of 28, Kid’s medical issues have taken their toll, and H had to make the very difficult decision to let her go peacefully, rather than suffer a winter of discomfort.   She was laid to rest yesterday on the farm she has called home for the past few years.    H has written a tribute to Kid, and I’ve posted it below the photos….

 She was an appaloosa that never broke out in spots –
Our first Hunter pace, in 1988

My wedding day, also 1988

College girl at the age of 3 brushing Kid

College girl and Kid many years later…
H with Kid at one of our favorite trail destinations…
and in her last year.

 Sad to see her go… but comfort in the knowledge that this mare had two women to love her all her life, something I wish could be true for all horses. 
H- thank you for giving Kid a wonderful second half.
Good-Bye, Kid
12-16-2011

Sometimes you have to let go of a dream…and it is not done easily, or lightly. Especially when that dream weighed upwards of 1,000 lbs. and carried you down sunlit trails, through rushing streams and over any number of immoveable objects along the way. With the slightest squeeze on a rein, the light tap of a heel on a flank, off you’d go for the day’s ride. You and your constant companion, your loyal friend…your horse.


In my case it was an Appaloosa mare named Kid – a proud, headstrong girl with a mind of her own. She would argue with me over which trail to take for the ride home (she was always right), and let me know if there was a snake or, heaven forbid, a cow within 50 yards. She would go over or through anything – even if she was afraid – as long as I told her it was OK. She was brave and curious on the trail, stopping in her tracks if she thought there was a monster in the bushes…then slowly creeping toward the scarey thing because she just HAD to know what it was. She would bang her nose on her feed bucket at dinner time, and tell me when she’d had enough brushing and primping (not a girlie girl, that one.) In many ways she was more like a cat than a horse, allowing me to get close and pet her when she was in the mood. But when she’d had enough…I was told.


And getting her to respect my authority and my space, well, that was an ongoing challenge. Every day we’d have the same discussion. Me: “No, you cannot step on me or push into me. Your space is THERE, my space is HERE. You move YOUR feet. I don’t move mine for you.” Her: “Oh, really? Are you sure I can’t push you…just a little?” Me: “Not an inch, not a chance, not today, not tomorrow.” Her: “Seriously? I just thought maybe…oh well, all right (as she lowered her defiant head down and let out a sigh) HER: “I guess you’re the boss (today, anyway.)” And so it went, day after day with this independent, strong- willed, proud creature who would do anything I asked that was physically possible….but I had to win her over every single time.


But she had her gentle side, too. She would carry a child with the utmost care, or slow down if she felt you were becoming unbalanced. That’s not to say that she didn’t have a buck in her…oh, yeah, she could give you the ride of your life. I remember a wonderful trainer asking her to canter and she just kept trying to get him off her back (he was kind and gentle – she was just testing and being lazy.) I heard him say “Give me whatcha got, Grandma”…and boy, did she. She was eighteen at the time.
And now she is 28, and feeling old and tired and just not her feisty self. I have watched her health slowly decline, piece by piece, with her dignity and pride being chipped away. I did my best to keep up with each change, making adjustments in her feed, exercise and care to keep her well, happy and comfortable. And she kept going strong for many years, working and playing with me, and enjoying life. Until too many uncomfortable things started to pile up and her expression slowly began to change. Finally, one day she looked at me with tired eyes and didn’t want to move from the spot she was standing in. And when she did walk, it was with deliberate, painful steps…and then I knew. No more tests, medications, or supplement concoctions to make her comfortable. We were past all that, and she’d had enough.

So I made that saddest of all calls to my equine vet, who knew Kid well. I told her all the reasons why I thought it was time to let her go, and she understood right away. I felt guilty, sick and grief-stricken, and when I put down the phone I wanted to call back and cancel. But this was not about me.

I was with Kid every day from the time I made that phone call…walking her if she was up to it, letting her stand in the sun when she needed a rest, and giving her pieces of her favorite treats. When the final day came I brushed her one last time, and hugged her neck, which she allowed me to do without an objection, just this once. I chose a photo of the two of us to bury with her, and on the back of it I wrote her a note:

“Good Bye my strong, proud, wild girl. I loved you so. Rest well and be free from pain. I’ll always be with you, and you will always be in my heart. You lived life on your own terms. Good Girl, Kid. Good Girl.”


47 thoughts on “Goodbye Old Girl”

  1. I'm so sorry for your loss, Karen. How lucky you both were to experience that love and commitment to each other. She was a beautiful girl. RIP Kid. Hugs, Deb

  4. Why, why, why, can't the animals that we love live forever? It is so painful to lose one. You have the memories and the certainty that she had the best life an animal can have – love and care. Thinking of you. Bonnie

  5. So hard to lose those good ones that have lasted an eternity with us. I have a lump in my throat as I feel your sadness. She had a great life and was a beautiful horse.

  6. You've had me in tears two days in a row now. This one is such a touching story … one of great love. H is right, it's not about us … this reminds me so much of Emma's last days. For Kid, even at age 28, sometimes it's just not enough time.

  7. Twenty eight years. That's a long time to love a horse. I am so sorry for your loss as well as H's.

  8. It is so incredibly hard to say goodbye. Sometimes we just have to do what's best for them and we are left with our tears. There are times I can barely speak about the animals I've had to say goodbye to. You did a very nice tribute. Hugs to you.

  9. I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, but a smile in my heart for the beautiful tribute to Kid. She was truly loved and truly loved back. I am so sorry for your loss.

  13. Well, that was a tearful read, but a special one. And Kid sounded like a special girl who was well loved.
    You can't ask for more than that.

  15. Animals who have become a part of the family are always hard to let go. It's difficult to remember that it's not about us – who would like them to live forever – it's about them and their well-being. I'm so sorry for your loss and for H's.

    My 85 year old neighbor had to make the same decision on the 14th about her 26 year old Thoroughbred. He was suffering from a heart condition that she found out about a week prior. He seemed to be doing OK but then all of a sudden, he went down and couldn't move. She didn't want him to suffer. It's tough!

    My thoughts are with you during this sad time.

  17. I am so ready to cry…I almost didn't read your post because I knew it would do this, and stay with me.

    I am so sorry for your horse. Kid gave and received a lot of love. I wish I had known her after reading this. She was really beautiful. Take care, Karen.

    XO,
    Jane

  20. Well, the first part of this post was hard enough but now that I finished the second half I am bawling right out loud! I know the pain of losing one that is so much a part of your life. xo Diana

  22. Have you ever wondered how it can hurt so bad to do the right thing? I certainly have, all the while knowing my sacrifice was in the best interest of the other, who was suffering. It didn't help me to suffer any less. In fact, I still suffer. However, I know the one I still suffer for will never have to endure pain and suffering again, ever. They have earned peace.

    I'm so sorry for your loss.

  23. Sorry for your loss Karen !!!!!! Sounds like you did everything you could and you stayed by her side the whole time you did your part

  24. So sorry for your loss. Such a beautiful animal and it's so sad when they just wear out–just like we do. Reminds me of our 16 yr. old cocker spaniel mix when we had to put him down. My son who loved him dearly said "Prince is just worn out"–one of the hardest things we ever had to do!

  25. Awww, so hard to do, I am so sorry, and I really hope you will be comforted that she is in a better place, running free and feeling good!

  26. I am so very sorry for your loss Karen. I, too, am in tears after reading this. Blessings to you my friend. I sure do hope she is pain free and in a better place now.

  27. Well, now, I'm just a bucketful of tears too. I know what it is like to lose a loving horse. But, I always remember the good times we had together. What an amazing tribute to her!

  30. Oh, so sad reading this Karen. My eyes are crying and my heart is aching. But the JOY you gave each other and the JOY she brought to others? Priceless and I know you know it. She was a lucky filly to be loved so much. ♥♥♥

    Oh and about that farrier? (He never knew how lucky he was, huh? Twice!)

  31. Having grown up with horses I know the pain you both are feeling. I'm so sorry for your loss, and you can take comfort in the fact that you and your friend gave her such a wonderful life full of love!

    Kat 🙂

  33. Aaah, the holes left behind from all of the animals we have loved!

    I am going to show this to my sister who loves horses (and owns) just as you and your friend do.

    I loved reading this.

  36. I'm so sorry Karen. But I can't help but feel this is a wonderful love story…full of happiness despite the current sorrow.

  37. So so sorry for your loss Karen. Sharing a tear with you.
    Only the thought of having to let one of our bunch go makes me feel incredibly sad and I do hope that time never comes (again). But I know it will *deep sigh*.

    A big virtual hug for you and everyone who loved your beautiful Kid.

  38. Oh Karen – it's never easy to say good-bye; I am so sorry Kid is gone. My belief is, she's waiting in heaven. The Lord God who loved them enough to create them AND share them has taken her for His own.

  39. Oh Karen, I'm so sorry! My eyes are welling up with tears right now! It's always so hard letting go! She sure was a beauty inside and out… remember how special she was and what a good life she lived! Sending you hugs…

  41. As the tears run down my face, I want to say I am so sorry for your loss. What a precious girl who was so lucky to have two women (three with the college kid) in her life who loved and cared for her so deeply. She was a gorgeous girl and like all good girls had spunk. She will be in Heaven waiting for a ride one day, of course, she will pick the trail! Praying for you.

  44. Oh beautiful Kid! So sorry for your lose. These are the hard times we must endure in order to have these beautiful relationships with our lovely dogs, cars, horses, etc. So painful, but you can rest in knowing what a wonderful loving life she had.

  45. Karen, What a lovely tribute. I am sure the pain of losing such a beautiful animal that has been with you for so long is hard to bear. My wife and I are grieving the loss of two of our dogs this year. At 15 1/2 and 16 years old, but still, it's so hard to let them go. I thought the picture of Kit in her last year was especially beautiful. My condolences, Best Wishes, John

  46. Both you and your friend H did a marvelous job of capturing Kid's spirit and putting it into words. I'm so sorry….. It's hard to lose a beloved pet and one that is such an integral part of who you are and where you've been.
    Grace

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