(no subject)

[unarider]

Yesterday, my brother's first competitive showjumper died. He's always been prone to colic, and when Christian and I arrived at the pasture to bring him back inside, he was showing signs of exactly that. While our parents tried calling every large animal veterinarian in the area, only to be rewarded with answering machine after answering machine, the two of us walked him for hours. Not realizing that any efforts made to keep him from twisting a gut were fruitless at this point, because he had already done so, we did everything we could to keep him on his feet, including throwing buckets of water on him when his legs would buckle, and he would go down. When a vet finally made it out to us, he confirmed that the horse had twisted a gut out in the field, and that chances of him surviving were very slim. Nonetheless, we tracked down a trailer and had Zaire hauled from our place to Tallahassee, where an equine surgeon confirmed that he had an intestinal rupture and that the kindest thing we could do for him at this point was let him go. We led him out behind the veterinary clinic, to a pretty green paddock, peppered with oak trees. Zaire's face actually lit up a little bit when he saw it, and he stood quietly while the vet prepared the euthanasia solution. At this point, Christian, who has been this horse's owner for the last twelve years, couldn't watch anymore. He said his goodbyes to Zaire and left. I didn't really want to watch him die either, but I couldn't bear the thought of leaving him with strangers in his very last moments of life and stayed there, holding his head while the vet injected him. Two seconds later, Zaire was gone, and the world became a little bit bleaker, that being the case.



Zaire
1987 ~ 2007
A good friend to so many