By: Deb Kitchenmaster
Seriously! Can a horse actually tell you “good-bye”? This one horse truly did just that. We had endured several months of questions, exams from professionals, and daily worked with this horse hoping to come out of this shadow into health and freedom surged with fluidity. This particular morning her appetite was good, her eyes were bright, and it appeared she was turning the corner to her previous days before this ‘suddenly’ happened. One day, she used all four legs with ease and was care-free. Then, suddenly, she could function only on three legs. We did detective work looking into stifle, abscess, hock, kick, snake bite, and whatever seemed a worthwhile piece to this mystery puzzle.
That particular early afternoon I knew in my knower that I needed to get out to the barn NOW. At first glance, I saw something was wrong. She was sweating profusely in her peaceful, fanned stall. When I began to hose her down she let me know, “NO! STOP!” I removed her halter and let her go. And GO she did, at full speed on three legs. In the barn, I waited and prayed. “God, whether she lives or dies, I trust you. I know you are with me, for me, and you are, indeed, a good and caring Father. I trust you.” In the darkness outside the barn, I heard the sound of hoof beats coming closer and closer. Together, we just were. The peace that overshadowed me is unexplainable, and there in the 12-foot alley she lay, unable to stand in her weakened state. Then her left front leg, hoof and entire leg, began gently moving up and down. She had eye contact with me with her left eye, as she continued to wave, telling me, “Good-bye.” She took her last breath.
The word good-bye originated in the late 16th century, and actually was a shortened form of “God be with you.” It’s a way of marking the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. Saying good-bye offers an opportunity to express our emotions and feelings. Saying good-bye is an invitation for others to react to your departure. It requires the person ending the relationship to fully engage with the reaction.
This good-bye took me down a time-traveled lane, back to the days that I was a tiny nine-year-old, living on a dairy farm. My uncle had given us a horse that had been worked in the coal mines. Because they started working him earlier than was safe for the horse, he had a sway back. His name was Bill. Horses are meant to ride, right? Well, what do you do when you’re too small and short to get on? You have a conversation, an agreement with the horse. I would go out and put the bridle on Bill, he would lower his head, I would get on his head straddled right behind his ears, he would raise his head and toss me back in his hollow back facing his butt; I would turn around facing his head, reach for the reins, and off we’d go. Until one Saturday, after my cereal, I headed out to pasture to get Bill. I found him. He was dead. That was a difficult time for a little nine-year-old to navigate the emotions and feeling of this loss. It’s amazing that this recent good-bye somehow reached back to a previous good-bye and the trauma that had been buried all these years, was released. You just can’t make this stuff up people! It’s real.
Be it a German shepherd, a golden Labrador, or a Morgan mare, what an honor when these 4-legged creatures love us enough to say good-bye. These cancel culture or cancel individuals are nonsense, unkind and brutal. Where’s the humanity? If we are willing, we can learn from the animals in our lives. A horse, a dog, a cat, a rat…forgive; let go of offenses, bitterness, and revenge. We are stronger together. Stop believing the lies, stop spreading lies, and stop the meanness. Who you seem to hate and judge may be one of your best friends and a connection to life, liberty, and your pursuit of happiness.
By: Deb Kitchenmaster
September 20, 2024
