R.I.P. Buddy

Its been such a long time since I've posted but I think, therapeutically, it'd be good for me to start writing again. Its going to take me a while to catch up on all of the things that have happened in the past year, but the most earth-shattering thing to say is that Buddy is gone. On November 9, 2011, he was fed at 5pm and by 5:20pm, the girl who was going to take a lesson on him that night went out to get him and he was running down the hill in his pasture and had slipped and fallen. He got back up choking. We aren't clear as to whether he choked, panicked, ran and fell, or if something scared him and he ran and fell, which then caused the choke. Over the next 36 hours I spent nearly every moment with him that I could, we tubed him several times but the choke had cleared within that first night. Because of the fall, he had aspirated into the top lobes of his lungs, in a place that couldn't be reached surgically without killing him. Even on antibiotics, he became septic by the 11th, and the Equine vet I work for referred us to the 24 hour Equine Emergency clinic 35 minutes away. My roommate, Emily, who's horse is Buddy's best friend, and my dear friend Megan who had just come into town from Chicago for a visit and came straight to the barn, came with me in my barn owners giant truck and massive 4 horse slant trailer. Buddy was scoped, ultrasounded, and had everything done we could. The vet told me that in 30 years of practice he had never seen a horse become septic so fast and once they get to the point where Buddy was, he had never seen a horse survive it. They slowly drowned to death in their own lungs. He said that even if we had rushed him to the emergency clinic the night he choked and they would've had him on constant antibiotic IV, with the location of the aspirate in his lungs we only would've prolonged his suffering and kept him alive for another few days of tortured breathing. At that point the damage to his lungs, trachea, etc would've been so bad he never would've recovered to a point of having any quality of life.

I knew what the right choice was. I promised Buddy years ago that I would never let him suffer in any way and always do whats best for him, no matter the cost to me. I called the vet I work for and told her what was going on, and she offered for me to bring him back to her property and have her put him down there so he could be buried. I decided that the most dignified thing for him was to leave him there with the professionals and have him cremated. He was wild until the moment he died and always deserved to be free. I couldn't bear the thought of him being stuck in the ground. As I got off the phone with Dr. Kim, Emily handed me her phone... she had called Jill, our coach and trainer from SIUC. I had already made my decision about letting Buddy go, but hearing those kind words from Jill that she knew what I was going through and agreed with my decision meant the world to me at that moment. She cried with me and wished she was there to hug me, but was grateful for Emily and Megan being my support there with me.

I said goodbye to my best friend and the love of my life around 10:30pm on November 11, 2011. I stayed with him through the whole process. I lead him out to the gravel spot near the parking lot and held him with all my might as he struggled to breathe and keep his head up. It was an unseasonal 60 degrees out with a clear starry sky above us. I just kept telling him how sorry I was for how it was ending and that he deserved so much more dignity in his passing. My hands shook so hard I could barely grab onto his mane as I cried into his shoulder for the last time out of hundreds of times before that. I reminded him that he was supposed to teach my nieces and nephews how to ride. We were supposed to grow old together and be crusty old hermits out in the remote woods somewhere. He was going to be my rock when I got another mustang and teach his new wild brother the ropes of how to be the worlds 2nd greatest horse. I kissed his face and handed the lead rope over to Dr. Baxter. Emily and Megan held my arms as my knees gave out on me. The technician warned me that they can't predict what a horse may do once injected, some flip forward or rear over backward, but the hope is they just fall straight onto their side. I told him I loved him as they injected my amazing horse with "the pink juice." He did the most graceful little half rear and shook his mane, then collapsed onto his left side. My knees buckled and Megan and Emily propped me up like crutches. Once he was gone, Dr. Baxter wiped the tears from his own eyes and told me how good looking of a horse Buddy was. He just kept petting his neck and remarking on how well built and handsome he was. I thanked him, and he and the tech told us to stay as long as we like with him.

I sat in the gravel, under that starry sky, petting his mane and telling stories. Emily, Megan, and I laughed and cried, braided his mane, gave him hugs. I recanted a night 3 years earlier when I stood in the pasture under a starry sky crying into his shoulder and telling him I promised to come back for him. That was the day before I left to transfer school down to SIUC, and I was completely distraught over leaving him. I made him a promise that night that I kept. I moved heaven and earth and rearranged my entire life to give him the best possible one. From the moment I met him 6 years ago, he has been the most important thing in my world and I always treated him as such. That night he left this earth I felt like my promise to him was broken. I promised to keep him safe. It wasn't fair to him to go out like that. He deserved so much more.

I'll write more about it later, but this is all I can muster for now. I haven't been the same since I lost him, and I won't ever be the same again. A huge part of me died that night and it has impacted me for the rest of my life.

"It wasn't long enough together, but it was long enough to last forever."