Sleep well beautiful boy . . .

I'm so sorry, it's always awful when its unexpected, look after yourself and don't worry if the smallest things set you off again weeks and weeks later- they leave too big a hole in our hearts 😢 Xxx
 
I know we do not see eye to eye on many things, but I am truly very sorry for your loss and I mean that with utmost sincerity from the bottom of my heart.

We have all been there, and it is horrid.
 
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I'm so very sorry for your loss. It's obvious from your posts that he meant the absolute world to you.

Look after yourself xx
 
So shocked to read this there's nothing I can think of to say ,
Coping with this is the price you pay for having that special horse
Xx
 
Unfortunately the more special they are, the bigger the hole they leave behind. The pain and grief you are feeling PolarSkye is testament to what a wonderful, unique and much loved horse he was. I hope that things become easier for you soon and you are able to accept what has happened - fighting against it alas will only prolong the agony. Take care of yourself.
 
Oh my gosh I'm so so sorry. I don't comment on that many posts but I read a lot and can tell just what he meant to you. Huge big hugs to you.
 
I'm so sorry. I have followed your stories of Kali from a couple of usernames over the years I've been lurking on HHO, and your love for him has always been blindingly obvious. I'm so sorry to hear this. Your posts were beautifully written and utterly heart-wrenching. Take care of yourself x
 
Once again, I need to thank you all. Your words mean so much more than you know. He has left a gigantic hole.

I have had to "adult" for the past two days - stepson (totally unhorsey/not really an animal person) arrived on Sunday and I had an important meeting on Monday . . . both were welcome distractions and I was very lucky to have two dear friends included among the colleagues at the meeting yesterday. I'm paying the price today though . . . the tears won't stop and I have a huge ache-y space where my heart should be. I think the reality that my reality has changed has kicked in . . . he isn't here. Any more. End of. Let me tell you, it sucks. As with any grief, it comes in waves. I can hold it together for a while and then it knocks me sideways and I'm on my knees. I went into Em's room last night to get a blanket and there was his tail - all plaited up by Zoe on the night he died - I almost vomited on the spot. OH and my lovely stepson left the house to go to Reading this morning - as soon as the front door closed I was howling - I hadn't realized how much I was holding in.

I know this is self indulgent, but grief is a journey - and if what I'm writing here helps anyone else with their own, that's wonderful. It's raw, and unpredictable . . . but, what's unexpected and a privilege, is that people are kind - it's amazing - even people you disagree with/haven't seen or spoken to for years . . . that has been balm to my soul.

I'll just put this out there . . . I got dumped by my fair share of boys when I was young and none of them broke my heart like losing Kali has . . . what is it about horses?

P xx
 
. . . and before we get carried away by "Saint Kali" he was an awkward so-and-so . . . he was definitely a diva. He was a total attention whore . . . absolutely got the hump if I dared to greet any horse on the yard before him. Would call the minute he heard (but could not see) my car arriving on the yard . . . if he didn't call when he heard the car, he'd call the minute he heard my voice or my step. He had the girliest neigh - it was more like a shriek. He was a restless boy - dirty in his stable because he shredded the poo - the only time I found whole poos in his bed was in his final days/when he was so poorly. He was a nightmare for fence running - and there was really no trigger - he stressed easily in the field and was like a toddler who can't calm down - the only remedy was to go in the field with him and reassure him - he never would calm down - would pace all day if you let him. He had a wicked spin/rear combo . . . and hated hacking (very nappy - we never did completely resolve this).

He was the most vocal horse I have ever met . . . he called or vocalized all the time. He was also unbelievably expressive and playful . . . I couldn't leave anything within reach/couldn't hang headcollars, hoofpicks, etc. up outside his stable unless I felt like picking them all up the next morning. Ditto rugs - those rolled around his mahoosive rug rail (only way to secure them) were fine, but anything on his door was fair game - either flung across the yard or dragged into his stable and trampled on. I used to watch him play with them/shake them. Anything else left lying around on the yard was a toy . . . the hose reel, feed/water buckets, were all there for him to toss, roll, empty, splash around in. When at my trainer's yard he started playing in the automatic waterer - he'd stick his whole muzzle in and blow bubbles and slosh it all around until his whole face was wet. In the absence of anything else to play with, he'd chuck his head around to make the clip on his leadrope jingle - he loved the sound. His favourite means of expression, though, was his feet - particularly his front feet. He'd paw the ground, bash things around, hook his front legs over his lead rope/over the fence, climb all over whatever was in front of him and then and turn and look at you . . . no panic, just "well, you coming to rescue me?"

He was a nightmare to tie up . . . generally fine if being treated (by vet/dentist/physio), but not always. He used to lick one bald farrier on the head every time he was shod/trimmed (also used to nibble his back) and once tried to pick another farrier up by his shirt - managed to get his head/neck damn near vertical with Matt's shirt in his teeth - thankfully Matt's shirt was very stretchy and Matt was very patient/kind.

I had one physio show up and be unable to treat him because he was tap dancing (a new arrival had just been led past him and he was outraged) - we turned him out in the school so he could move his feet/stare at his new paramour and he was fine after that.

More than once it took three of us to put a saddle on him at a dressage competition because he was being such a loony, he escaped from the lorry more than once (and we had to ask a four star eventer to let him run into the back of her very expensive horse to stop him once). We were asked to leave one venue because he was so badly behaved and he was eliminated at his very first show with us because he nearly sat on the fence judge's car/refused a fence a bazillion times. That he won any rosettes, never mind red ones was a miracle.

He jumped a real live duck once (yes really), made a dressage judge laugh hysterically (and the photographer, steward and all of us). He couldn't come down the centre line and half without immediately having a gawp or going "ta daaaaaaah." He was a kernobb cross country everywhere except Tweseldown (which he loved), but he gave every single coloured pole at competition a country mile - he was so careful. He hated the advertising hoardings at Crofton Manor (spin, rear, spin, rear), but he loved the big indoor venues.

He loved dogs . . . he'd let them mill around his legs - there was a lurcher puppy at one yard that used to swing off his tail when he was working in the school and he was always fascinated by my Daisy (who was terrified of him) - he was desperate to touch her, and she never did let him.

He loved little people too - was always very gentle with children, bless him . . . I would have let a four-year-old lead him on a piece of cotton (not literally, but he was that gentle and polite with small ones).

He was generally very polite . . . and was very aware of personal space/following the handler . . . a joy to lead and sort out gates/slip rails, etc. . . . he had to learn to be when he chucked me off and I broke my pelvis - had to learn to toddle around at old lady speed and not bump into me, etc. He could forget himself and give the odd nudge, but usually when he was behind his stable door and being impatient.

Knew exactly which rugs meant what . . . if the stable rugs came off and the turnouts went on, you'd better hurry up turning him out!

Made the WORST faces when you fed him . . . if you didn't know him, you'd have sworn he was vicious - he wasn't, it was all posturing. I could feed him and then go in his stable and change rugs and he wouldn't put a foot wrong . . . didn't do it often, liked to leave him to it once he was eating.

He was loving, affectionate, cheeky, kind, naughty, funny, arrogant, self-absorbed . . . he was difficult to manage, many yard owners despaired of his field-trashing tendencies. But he was so charming that most of them forgave him. He was never nasty to other horses - and he absolutely loved little ponies. He was very playful in the field as well as on the yard.

Can you tell I loved him? ;).

P
 
Oh P, no words to make your 'journey' any better for you I'm afraid and grief, it seems will take what ever time it feels is needed. I send only my sincere and heart felt sympathy to you, along with a few of my own tears thrown in for good measure and help share your sorrow. If only it were that simple. Please be kind to yourself.
 
What a lovely thing to read P, warts and all.

It does come in waves - I burst into tears during a client meeting the day after I lost my old horse (which was a shock like Kali) but roll with it - he deserves your grief.

The reason horses hit us harder than getting dumped by old boyfriends is that they were t*ts and our horses never are, even when they have their fair share of "warts". Mine makes terrible faces at me too but is gentle with children. They reach deep into our hearts.

Hugs
 
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PolarSkye said:
.

Can you tell I loved him? ;).

P
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Yes with all your heart xx as any mother would their 'baby' (be it human or animal) I smiled and cried through your post - mine are the same not perfect but mine none the less and I love them each for their personalities. He sounded such a character - understandably a huge hole has been left - hugs to you while you grieve x
 
I've been thinking about you since the start of this thread and I'm glad to see you posting about dear Kali with such good humour about all the sides of his personality. You can be as self-indulgent as you like on here ;)
 
PS, your last post makes perfect sense to us "horsey folk", its exactly why you loved him, he wasnt perfect, but he was your "not perfect". He had character, huge amounts of it if that post is anything to go by, gawd, Im not surprised you're in bits. And let me tell you, Ive shed more tears over dogs and horses than I have any man (except my darling Dad), there simply is no comparison!
 
Your post about your memories and grief really resonated with me. We are lucky to share our lives with some special animals and the price we pay is the grief we face when they leave us. We share so much time with them, we build our days around them and they are a focal point in our lives so when they go, they leave a very very big hole behind. Platitudes don't help, but I hope someone saying "I understand, and I have walked in your shoes" will. Hugs
 
I'll just put this out there . . . I got dumped by my fair share of boys when I was young and none of them broke my heart like losing Kali has . . . what is it about horses? P xx[/QUOTE said:
It's that they love you unconditionally - nothing better than looking into those deep soulful eyes (windows to the soul) and just 'getting them' IYKWIM.

Howl, cry, do whatever it is you have to do - it will get easier not straight away or anytime soon but it will.

You're lucky you have your lovely memories not many have had that privilege :-) xx
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