Picking Up the Pieces

I did not foresee the events of last week coming. Or maybe, subconsciously, I did…In my last post I talked about caring for our senior horse, Copenhagen. He was not just another animal, he was part of our family for the past thirteen years. He was, for a long time, my daughter’s whole world.

As that post sat in que on Friday night, to be posted Saturday morning, I was driving 2 hours to get home to see that very horse. Work had sent me out of town for 2 nights. I barely got checked into the hotel when my husband called me to say that Copenhagen didn’t come in from the field to eat his supper.

Immediately, a sinking feeling began in my stomach. I tried to reassure my husband and myself that Copenhagen was just walking slowly and would walk into the paddock just any minute. You see, the sun had already set and the sky was overcast. Out in the country, there is not a lot of light around the property. If there was a moon, I don’t remember it. The fields were very dark. My husband started the ATV to go look for him; he said he would call me back.

My mind was racing. How could this be happening while I was out of town? My husband is a big animal lover, but he has little experience with horses. Whatever was going on was more than he ever had to deal with, with horses. They are so big that you really have to be careful that you don’t put yourself in harm’s way. Horses are easily frightened, and at roughly 1000 pounds, especially if they are injured or trapped, they can easily hurt you.

After a few minutes, my husband called me back from the field. He had found Copenhagen lying down in the pasture. It looked as if he had been trying to get up. I could hear Copenhagen softly nickering, as if to say “Hey, I’m glad you are here. I was getting lonely out here by myself. I heard you calling me. I have been trying, but my legs just won’t support me when I try to get up.”

I was in shock, and possibly a little delusional. I called a neighbor to see if, together, they could help him stand. Maybe he was already too tired from trying by himself, or maybe his deformed knee just hurt too bad; I don’t know. The neighbor I had called is an experienced horsewoman, and she tried to prepare me; she suggested I call the veterinarian.

So I called the vet, checked out of my hotel room, and began the two hour drive home. It was a difficult drive on roads that I am unfamiliar with. I doubt I would have done much better on a more familiar road. Through tears in my eyes I could see a thunderstorm close to me. Occasionally, lightning lit up the road and light rain splattered on the windshield. At times it looked like I was going to drive into the storm, but thankfully, I managed to skirt around the outside edge of it.

Once the vet arrived, I received regular updates on Copenhagen’s condition. She tried valiantly to put a spark back into that old horse to get him on his feet. By the time I got home, I knew it was time to say goodbye to my beautiful old friend. He seemed comforted by my presence there stroking his head and telling him how much he was loved. I believe he passed in peace and feeling the family’s love for him.

This week has been a rough adjustment for all of us. The other two horses, Duke and Ben, had lost their herd leader. Ben took it the hardest; he had been with Copenhagen all of those 13 years, and they were buds. Duke has stepped up as the next herd leader. I don’t think he has ever been in this position before, but he seems to be taking his new responsibility seriously.

My tears come less frequently with each passing day. I mourn his loss, but I am no longer fearful of the cold, wet winter we are predicted to have. It is a blessing that he did not suffer through such miserable conditions. I like to believe that animals go to heaven. I can muster a smile by imagining that his brilliant copper color becomes a blur as he races across heaven. Perhaps Copenhagen is carrying Jesus on his back, as Jesus laughs with pure joy to have such a fine and loyal horse.

I will miss Copenhagen, but he is in good company with the many beloved horses who have gone before him. One day, I will hug his neck again, and walk with him in never ending fields of lush, green pasture as he frolics and plays in eternal youth.

2 Corinthians 1:4 He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.