My Horse Soul Mate, Race
After the loss of Stacy Westfall’s lovely partner, Roxy, I thought it would be a good time to start my new forum on how to cope with the loss of a beloved horse. I thought I would call it the “Equine Grief Relief Forum” I’ll start it off with my own tragic story.I bought Racing On By, aka Race, when he was 6 months old. I had been barrel racing very successfully on Chachi, then 10 years old, and thought it was time to get a youngin’ started to replace him when his competition days were over.
I bought Race for $1500.00 in 1993. At that time, that was the most I had ever paid for a horse! He had superstar written all over him. He was a grandson of Dash For Cash, and looked almost identical to him. His momma was a Merridoc mare and very successful in the racing world also.
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| Race as a handsome colt |
I fell in love with Race the moment I saw him. He looked a lot like Chachi. He was a deep liver chestnut with a perfect blaze and white socks on his hind legs. He was stunning, even as a baby.
I started him slow, made sure he had impeccable ground manners and that he was easy to handle in every-day situations. He was a love. When he was about 18 months I decided I should get him gelded, I didn’t need a stud horse. Just before his appointment, I got news that his sire, Buy For Cash had suddenly died. I debated on keeping him a stud to continue the line, but thankfully, good sense returned and we went ahead and gelded him. He was a good boy before, but after he was just amazing!
I started him on barrels the end of his 3 year old year. He was a fast learner and I was excited about his potential as a really excellent barrel horse. Unfortunately, I just never could get him finished. He was too smart; he figured he didn’t need to wait for my cue to turn the first barrel. We struggled for a couple of years and then after realizing that even though he had all of the physical attributes he needed to be a star, barrel racing was not his destiny.
So, I decided I loved him much more than I loved barrels, so I stopped trying to force him to be something he wasn’t. That was the beginning of the most wonderful journey I had ever experienced with one of my horses. By taking away the pressure and frustration that obtaining MY goal was causing and just stepping back, I saw what a true blessing just having him in my life was.
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| Portrait I had done of Race by Cindy Price |
We started just hanging out and learning to be connected. I went to a couple of Natural Horsemanship clinics and liked the results I was getting by using some of the methods that were being taught. I’m not a groupie of one particular clinician, but I like to take bits and pieces from all of them and blend their techniques into a method that works for me and that my horses appreciate.
We were enjoying life and each other. In 2004, we moved to the Dallas area. I took Race and my son’s mare Baile with us. It took us 4 days and 3 horse motels but we finally made it, we also had 2 dogs and a cat with us. We were quite a sight every night as we unloaded and settled the horses then hauled the rest of the critters into the hotel room.
At first everything seemed to be going well in our new home. We had 3 acres of pasture, which in Idaho would have been plenty of pasture for 2 horses…but not in Texas. After about a month we realized the horses were losing weight at an astonishing rate. I didn’t understand, there were lots of fat healthy horses in Texas. After endless research I realized the Texas pasture grass just didn’t have the nutrients that my horses needed and were used to, in the lush, irrigated pasture grass in Idaho.
I started on the long and very expensive road to put the weight back on them. Even though I was feeding the horses what seemed to be an immense amount of extra feed, they still were not doing well on the coastal hay and supplemental feed. My daughter is an equine veterinarian in Oregon and finally after listening to my rants about the horrible grass and hay in Texas she just said, “Can’t you get them alfalfa”? That was what they were used to and evidently that’s what they needed. She said “Feed them steak, (alfalfa)…a diet of all coastal hay was like a diet of straight mashed potatoes.” So I found alfalfa hay that had been shipped in from Wyoming and started them on the road to recovery. They were so happy, their eyes and noses knew exactly what we were stacking in the barn.
The return to health was happening. They were both gaining weight and their coats were returning to the glossy shine we were used to. A couple of weeks later, I had been working Race on every other step lead changes. One day, down in my neighbor’s arena (Texans really are nice and generous people), I had Race doing these lead changes the entire length of the arena. We had been playing at bridleless riding also and everything was grand. He was doing so great and it was such a beautiful autumn day, unseasonably warm, but not hot, I did one more round of lead changes and headed home.
After giving him a much deserved bath, I just hung out with him around the house loving on him. The next morning, October 1, 2006, I went out to feed Baile and Race. Baile immediately came into her stall for breakfast, but not Race. I found him standing behind the barn, very lethargic and low headed. I led him into his stall and offered him some pellets. He wasn’t interested.
I called my vet, who was also my next door neighbor, but he was out of state at a conference. He gave me the emergency clinic’s number and I called them and told them we were on our way.
It was an hour drive and by the time we got there Race seemed a little better. The vet on call was fresh out of school but seemed competent. He couldn’t find any obstruction but said Race was severely dehydrated so they would keep him over night on IV fluids and he would probably be fine by morning and we could come back and get him then. He gave me his cell number and said he would answer right away if I wanted to call back later and check on Race.
I patted Race on the neck and told him I would see him tomorrow… I called about 6:00 but no answer, so I just left a message and asked if Race was doing well enough, maybe I could come back and pick him up that evening. The vet called me back at about 8:45 and apologized for not answering. He said they had another colic come in and that horse was not doing well at all. He said Race was great and just resting in his stall and that if I still wanted to come get him I could. Since it was an hour drive and close to 9 pm, I said that we would just come as planned in the morning.
I was so relieved and my spirits were high. I thought everything was great and looked forward to seeing Race in the morning.
My phone rang at 10:30pm and I knew immediately I didn’t want to answer. My stomach sunk, my hands were shaking, I knew something had happened. The vet said “Susan, I am so sorry, but Race just died”. . . As I am recounting that horrible night nearly 6 years ago, the tears are streaming down my face and I feel sick all over again. The rest of that night is a blur…my husband and son trying to console me…me trying to make sense out of it.
The next morning my husband went back to the clinic to pick up the trailer and make the arrangements for Race. The reason for Race’s death was never determined. He had a tear in his stomach, but no explanation of why. I thought about back when Race was a yearling and his sire suddenly died, could there have been something genetically wrong? We will never know.
Still, to this day, I wonder if I did something to cause his death, that one last round of lead changes, was it too hot? Did he need water during our ride? Were there signs of distress after we got home that I should have noticed? I felt my world had just come crashing down, I just could not get over it. After a while people started saying “You have to move on, he was just a horse.” And that was just it, my family was happy and healthy, the rest of my pets were happy and healthy, life was good, as the shirts say…so why was I still so sad and depressed? What kind of therapy did I need to help me move on? I didn’t want another horse, I wanted Race.
Every time I looked out in the field, there was Baile, head low, she was just as sad and brokenhearted as I was. Baile was a yearling when I got Race. She and Race had been together for 13 years and now she was alone too. As I struggled to recover, I kept thinking of Race and all of the other horses I had loved in my life. The more I thought of them, the more it seemed like I had some kind of responsibility to tell their stories.
So, I started my memoir, tentatively titled “The Horses I’ve Loved”. It seemed to be the therapy I needed. As I wrote, I cried. I called old friends to clarify memories and that helped too. Finally, I could see the light. But Baile wasn’t writing her memoir, she was still sad and alone in the pasture. So to make a long story not quite so long, I decided to get Baile and myself a new horse.
I tried finding a Dash For Cash, but realized none of them were going to be good enough. So, I shook up my horse ideals and bought an off the track thoroughbred. White’s Bonus Time raced for 3 years and has one “Win” photo to show for it. I guess that’s why he is off the track :) I bought Bonus when he was 5 years old, he is now about to turn 10. He may not be Race, no horse every will be, but he is a beautiful, wonderful horse and through his challenges and love, Baile and I have returned.
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| Race's Headstone |
So please, if any of you are going through this same terrible time in your life, give yourself time to heal… you can, I promise, and you will love again.
Naturally,
Susan
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