Horse Stories

I always wanted to live on a ranch. Horses, chickens, pigs, ducks....any loving being who could not talk in words, I wanted to include in my menagerie. And, so it was that I bought my first home in Riverside County, California, where I could realize my dream.

First line of business...I knew I needed a dog, for protection and, of course, for friendship. Bear, a 6-week old Rottweiler, was to be my first born and my new, constant companion.

Since I had always loved horses, I decided that I would find a horse rescue and adopt a horse. The only question was, from which rescue? As I scrolled through the pages of the Internet, I came upon a Canadian Website, where my eyes were drawn to a Strawberry Roan Paint named Polka Dot Princess. The most beautiful horse that I had ever seen, she was about to be slaughtered, and for me, slaughter of a horse was the worst kind of crime. I rescued Polka Dot Princess from that Canadian rescue on that very same day, and, with only a picture and a prayer, hoped with all my heart that upon her arrival to my home, she would be okay.

In the still, blistering heat of a pale August eve, my Polka Dot Princess arrived. As the trailer pulled up, all I could see looking back at me through the tiny, trailer window were a pair of the biggest, brownest, sweetest eyes that I had ever seen. When she backed out of the trailer, though now, a matted mess, I could see that Polka Dot Princess had remnants of a soft, flowing, flaxen mane with a magnificent, proud flaxen tail, I looked her over as a mother would examine a new born babe, and sadly, counted the ribs of her body as one can count the beats of their heart.

I took her picture on that day, ribs protruding, mane knotted up, and a keen sense of wonder in her eyes. She lived with me on my property for several years and, though she did not grow much in height, she filled out most graciously.

As Princess grew older, I recognized that something was wrong. Sometimes, when she would lie down, it seemed to take forever for her to get up, her hind legs and tail-end dragging. After exhausting every effort to help her, eventually she would lift herself off the ground and then appear completely normal again.

After caring for my Princess for several years, on yet another hot, sweltering summer day, I let her run out to pasture after her morning feed. With all the earnestness of a thoroughbred at the gate, Princess kicked out happily, high in the air, and, as she whisked by me like a lightening bolt, she seemed to sense for that one moment, that she was absolutely free. When it was time for her to go back to her stall, she did so, reluctantly, but as always, with a fine sense of loyalty . I then went back into the house, satisfied that I could go about my day knowning that she was okay.

I got ready for the gym and as usual, glanced out in the back acre before I left. Much to my dismay, I saw that Princess was down again. I ran as fast as my feet would carry me and as I frantically approached her, I could see green bile draining from the corner of her mouth and knew that this time, things were different.

I ran back inside to call the vet. and then back to my Polka Dot Princess. I knelt down beside her and placed her head in my lap. Tenderly, she looked up at me, and, as if to wave goodbye, blinked her eyes for one last time and took her final breath. That was when I understood the depth of a broken heart.......

Horse Stories By Deborah Trendel-Leader, RN

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