On
To say we are devastated is an
understatement. Skip was a part of our family. He leaves behind not only us, but
the other 4 horses, Finder's Dream a.k.a Kohl (Appaloosa), You Cant Imagine
a.k.a. Nutmeg and She's A Rainbow a.k.a. Annie (both Quarters Horses) and Indio
Joe (Paint Horse), all distantly related to him. He also leaves behind our other
four legged 'kids' Casey (our dog) and Presto and Shadow (our cats).
Skip came into my life in
January 1999 when I purchased him as a companion to my Thoroughbred mare, Cree's
Tom Boy, a.k.a Tomi, which ironically was just a few months before Tom and I
started dating. Who was to know at that time how much he would play in our
lives, but as the years passed, we found out.
Skip was a quiet gentle soul. A
very green 4 coming 5 year old, but he developed into a wonderful mount and joy
to ride. As Tom and I grew closer in our relationship I also noticed the bond
forming between Tom and Skip. Though Tom never had a lot of experience with
horses and was rather unsure of them, he spent time helping me, willing to
learn. He would help me clean the paddocks, feed them and even learned how to
muck stall. When it looked like I was going to have to move away in October
1999, as I had lost the rental at farm were I was at, Tom openly expressed that
he did not want me to leave. He was upset that we would not be able to see each
other that much if at all depending on how far away I moved and that his plans
were affected. It was then that he asked me to marry him. Tom got his parents to
allow for me to move into their house, and made comfortable arrangements for me
in the basement. He went with me to check out farms to board the two horses and
when I told him that I may have to sell Skip as money was getting tight, he
refused to allow me to sell him and stated he would help cover his board. He
became and active participant in the horses care.
I decided to give Skip to Tom,
as my wedding gift to him, as I had seen over time just how much Tom loved Skip
and vice versa. I had made the decision in the beginning May of 2000 as we had
planned on breeding Tomi, and everything was set on the breeding. I would have a
foal from her. She was to be bred to an Appaloosa Stallion named Sleepy Native
via artificial insemination. Everything was all set when tragically three days
before she was to be inseminated, she died of and aneurysm in front on my eyes.
I was devastated.
My dream of Tomi having a foal was gone and I was without a horse. Tom at the
time did not know I had decided to give him Skip and I would not take it back
now, Skip was his. I had not been
prepared for the loss of Tomi and though I had wanted to have her buried at
Skip continued to be a shining
star in our lives. I taught him to do lower level dressage, to jump and to do
western pleasure and trail. Tom learned to ride him in his own way and I never
once had to question if Tom would be safe on Skip – I knew Skip would baby sit
him. I took Skip to several shows over the years and he always came home with
ribbons. Tom came along always in the role of the proud father at the show. Skip
also became a great lesson horse, teaching many children and a few adults how to
ride. Tom and I went on several trail rides together after Joe was broke. Skip
even did "pony" rides along with Nutmeg one year for the Marines at
the Picatinny Arsenal. A student's father was stationed there and asked if we
could do it for them. Skip and Nutmeg never fussed for a minute as kids and
adults took turns for 3 hours that day.
Though Skip had had some health
issues, mostly allergic reaction to the yearly vaccines, he had always been an
easy keeper.
In August 2004 that was to change. That year I had attended equine dental school
in
Slowly as the month passed he
got better then without warning his injured the leg again in September 2005
while being turned out, even with sports medicine boots. Again I worked at his
recovery. The vet gave a guarded prognosis stating his sunken hind ankles were
not a good sign. I did not listen. For Tom and Skip I would not quit at trying
to get Skip sound again. Time passed and he seemed to recover, his legs got
better, but to prevent him from hurting himself again I would not allow him to
be turned out.
He was doing well until August 2006 when he not only injured the left hind leg
again but also severely coliced. The vet was pretty sure that part of his
intestine had flipped over his spleen. It was recommended that he be taken to a
clinic, but we said no, he was not a surgical candidate. Tom and I spent the
night with him, taking turns monitoring him. Skip magically pulled through the
colic, his intestine when back into place and he recovered beautifully but the
injury to the left hind leg involved the superficial flexor tendon now with a
horizontal tear involving almost 1/3 of the tendon. The suspensory tendon show
massive thickening. The vet discussed options on what we could do to keep him
comfortable, but he was slowly breaking down. Again I did not listen; I did not
want to give up hope for Skip or Tom. How could I tell Tom that his horse was
breaking down and despite all my efforts, I could not stop it from happening.
Again we went back to the
beginning on his rehab, he seemed to get better, and again I though Skip will
recover, but slowly he started to decline. It became hard for him to pick up his
back feet to have them cleaned, he laid down more, and he developed sores on his
elbows and hocks. He was not comfortable; he rested the injured leg more,
putting more weight on the better leg, though it too was showing signs of
breaking down. This past weekend he nose dived. He went lame on the leg again,
holding the leg up and favoring it.
The most painful decision could
not be put off any more; I had to tell Tom that Skip was breaking down, I could
not stop it and I needed his permission to put him down. My wedding present, my
third horse, given in love now had to be taken. Tom
was hurt beyond words, crushed that his Skip would no longer be a part of his
life. I asked him if he wanted to be there, he quietly said no. I did not ask
him what he wanted to do with Skip as accepting his death would be hard enough.
I too was unsure.
Making the phone calls Monday morning to the vet and to the transportation
company was hard enough. I did not tell Tom when it was going to happen, I could
not bring the words to tell him. My hope of having us Skip until a ripe old age
were shattered as well as my dream of taking him to any Appaloosa breed shows as
I had hope to once do.
I called a few close friends, those who had the joy of knowing us and Skip over
the years. We talked of Skip's life, his bond with Tom and how difficult a time
this was. One of our friends
stood by my side as Skip passed on.
Though his is gone on to be
with Tomi, he lives in our hearts as she does. His spirit will wait as Tomi's
does at the
Rainbow
Bridge
Just
this side of heaven is a place called
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet
goes to
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and
play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and
comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those
who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember
them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss
someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and
looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers.
Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs
carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you
cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses
rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once
more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never
absent from your heart.
Then you cross
Author unknown...
The
Horse's Prayer
To
Thee, my master, I offer my prayer.
Feed
me, water and care for me, and when the day's work is done, provide me with
shelter, a clean, dry bed and stall wide enough for me to lie down in comfort.
Always
be kind to me. Your voice often means as much to me as the reins. Never strike,
beat, or kick me when I don't understand what you want, but give me the chance
to understand you. Pet me sometimes, that I may serve you the more gladly and
learn to love you.
Make
sure that I am properly shod that I may serve you in comfort.
And
finally, Oh My Master, when my useful strength is gone, do not turn me out to
starve or freeze or sell me to some cruel owner to be slowly tortured and
starved to death; but do thou, My master, take my life in the kindest way and
your God will reward you here and hereafter. You will not consider me irreverent
if I ask this in the name of Him who was born in a stable.
Author
Unknown