Jericho
Well-Known Member
After a 16 months of trying to get my boy right and sound and happy I have finally made the decision that I knew I would have to make eventually and he is being PTS. He is only 13 yrs old and I only had the priviledge of knowing him 2 years and riding him for 6mths but I am devestated and there will be a huge empty space in my heart this time tomorrow.
I knew after the initial diagnosis of navicular, soft tissue damage as well as problematic back and hocks (basically lots of problems that are all linked that will always cause him mild pain) that he would never be anything than a light hack so he became a companion to my mare. It became increasingly obvious he didnt like being a companion and wasnt settled and worries about everything, he loses weight at the first sign of rain and is miserable when he has to be rugged as he hates them being taken on and off and the pressure on his neck and back. He hated being groomed, having his feet done, being left when we went out for a hack. He hated the hard ground, the mud, the flies....
To avoid THE decision which I have never had to do with anything before, I tried to bring him back into work a couple of months ago with the view that he could go to someone on loan as a light hack and to give him more of a life but it was clear he hated every second of being ridden, was kicking and biting before the saddle even went near him, napped, reared, paniced, shook his head every time I sat on him. I could never ever have trusted anyone else with him in case they hurt him more or if he hurt them (which he increasingly seemed to want to do)
I certainly didnt want him to spend another winter being miserable so with my heart in my mouth I rang the kennels and tomorrow he will run free living the life he deserved and wanted, running with the herd with the sun on his back with no flies, no worries, no tack, no horrible farriers and no pain. I feel horrible, like a traitor, I cant bear to look at him and I just want to bury my head in pillows until it is all over but I know I owe him more than that and I will be stuffing his face with treats and scratching his neck (the one thing he did love!) with all my might tomorrow. The worse thing is that he looks majestic, wonderful and noble and like a horse in his prime (until he moves and then he looks like a right old crock three times his age) and I have had to play God with his life.
So to Hawkins, while you are still here, thank you old man for all the happy memories, you are very much loved and you will never be forgotten and Ihope that your last couple of years with me were at least sometimes happy.
Thanks for reading if you got this far, its helped a little to write out how I am feeling.
I knew after the initial diagnosis of navicular, soft tissue damage as well as problematic back and hocks (basically lots of problems that are all linked that will always cause him mild pain) that he would never be anything than a light hack so he became a companion to my mare. It became increasingly obvious he didnt like being a companion and wasnt settled and worries about everything, he loses weight at the first sign of rain and is miserable when he has to be rugged as he hates them being taken on and off and the pressure on his neck and back. He hated being groomed, having his feet done, being left when we went out for a hack. He hated the hard ground, the mud, the flies....
To avoid THE decision which I have never had to do with anything before, I tried to bring him back into work a couple of months ago with the view that he could go to someone on loan as a light hack and to give him more of a life but it was clear he hated every second of being ridden, was kicking and biting before the saddle even went near him, napped, reared, paniced, shook his head every time I sat on him. I could never ever have trusted anyone else with him in case they hurt him more or if he hurt them (which he increasingly seemed to want to do)
I certainly didnt want him to spend another winter being miserable so with my heart in my mouth I rang the kennels and tomorrow he will run free living the life he deserved and wanted, running with the herd with the sun on his back with no flies, no worries, no tack, no horrible farriers and no pain. I feel horrible, like a traitor, I cant bear to look at him and I just want to bury my head in pillows until it is all over but I know I owe him more than that and I will be stuffing his face with treats and scratching his neck (the one thing he did love!) with all my might tomorrow. The worse thing is that he looks majestic, wonderful and noble and like a horse in his prime (until he moves and then he looks like a right old crock three times his age) and I have had to play God with his life.
So to Hawkins, while you are still here, thank you old man for all the happy memories, you are very much loved and you will never be forgotten and Ihope that your last couple of years with me were at least sometimes happy.
Thanks for reading if you got this far, its helped a little to write out how I am feeling.