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Westphalian Warmblood
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1977 - 5 October, 2008 |
In Loving Memory of Amadeous
The first day I saw you,
Amadeous, I knew we were bound to be together some way, somehow. Our paths
crossed by chance, really. I was not looking for a horse, but something always
drew me to look at you as I passed by your stable every weekend on my way
to my riding lesson. You looked quite a big horse from what I could see,
but you also looked a little neglected, not in the way of food, but in attention,
as you rocked endlessly back and forth, hour after hour. Then one day, a
dog drifted onto the road, and I stopped to catch him. I took him to the
house next door to you, and the owner was grateful. Seeing me in my riding
attire, he started to tell me about you. He then introduced me to your owner
who gave me permission to come and visit you whenever I wanted. From that
day on, I knew we were destined to be together, and each day I grew to love
you more and more.
At that time, you were
approximately 24 years old, and you had been retired for about three years.
You had been a jumper, apparently winning many ribbons, but it had taken
a toll on your legs. Your left-hind, which had previously been operated on
after an injury, was still swollen and calcification had set in around your
fetlock. You were also quite lame, and no supplements had been given to ease
your discomfort. You had been imported from Germany at the age of five for
$20,000, which was a lot of money at that time. You must have been a grand
young horse, because even now you were beautiful, with four white socks,
a star on your forehead and those big loving, deer-like eyes that made your
heart melt. I found out later what a big heart you really had and how your
will to live kept you going.
After taking care of you
for about a year, your owners decided to sell their home and asked if I wanted
to take you. Of course I could not say no, since I could not bear the thought
of you going to someone (or some place) that would not take care of you.
You were lame and of an older age, and I knew no one would want a horse they
couldn't ride, and the chances of you ending up at slaughter were too high.
And so, not knowing financially how I was going to take care of you, I decided
to take you. All that mattered was that we would be together, never to
part.
After about a year, with
the right supplements and acupuncture, you were fit enough to ride. You had
come a long way...you were now able to walk without any noticeable lameness,
so I started hand-walking you on the trails, then gradually got up to riding
you at the walk. You were so enjoying our little hacks and your new-found freedom from pain. You were looking so good, with your tail held high,
like the noble horse you were, that whenever local horse shows were going
on, I was asked if we were competing. That made me so proud and flattered,
because I knew how far we had both come and how good you now
looked.
We went merrily on our
way for several years without any incidents, and I was able to canter you
short distances on the trails on soft ground. I never asked you to do anything
I didn't think you could do, but you were always so willing and tried your
very best to give me everything and more. You never faulted when seeing new
scary things on the trail. And, even when an out-of-control horse came hurtling
by us, you stood perfectly still, like you'd seen it all before. You always
took care of me. I remember the day you took a tumble, and we both went flying
to the ground. It was fast, but it was also as if it was happening in slow
motion as our eyes met while all the time falling to the ground. For a second
I was afraid you were going to fall on top of me. But, no, you were watching
me to see which way I was falling so you could go the other way. That was
the bond we had together. We took care of each other always...
Then, the last couple of
years, you started to have on and off lameness issues. Then you didn't seem
to be shedding as well as you should. At first I thought this was because
of your age, since your hair had always been fairly long, or at least longer
than other horses. I didn't want to believe you had that dreaded disease,
Cushings. However, in the summer of 2007, your hair was even thicker
and longer, and the depressions above your eyes were no longer hollow but
filled with fat. After having blood tests drawn, it was confirmed that you
indeed had Cushings. So now, my poor baby, you had Cushings Disease, a heart
murmur (which you'd had when I got you), as well as the old injury to your
hind leg. At that time, I never really noticed any change in the appearance
of your fetlock from the way it had always been, and Degenerate Suspensory
Ligament Disease (DSLD) had never been mentioned or explained to
me. The summary of 2007 came
and went, and it wasn't until around February 2008 that I knew something
was seriously wrong with your left-hind leg. Since your hair was so long,
I had to clip your leg to see what was going on. To my horror, I could see
that your fetlock had dropped, at least a couple of inches, and your suspensory
ligament was enlarged and twice the size of the right. I knew then that we
had a fight on our hands. When the vet came out to look at you, he
told me there was nothing I could do to prevent your fetlock from dropping.
Again, the word DSLD was never mentioned, although I knew now from my own
research that this is what you had. I was also told to put you down because
you were not serviceable. Not serviceable, I thought to myself...like a machine,
a car, something you throw away when you have no more use for it. What a
sad way to think about you, my beloved Amadeous. I decided there and
then that as long as you wanted to fight to stay in this world, we would
fight every battle together.
It was shortly thereafter
that you started to get infection after infection. In a matter of two months,
you got three hoof abscesses, all of which were extremely painful; one more
so because it was on your left-hind, your bad leg. Then to top it all, you
got a very bad tooth infection (abscess) that came right through your bottom
jaw. Again, I was told to put you down because of all your other problems,
but I would not, could not, abandon my best friend. We tried antibiotics
after antibiotics, but it didn't clear up. I persevered administering antibiotics
to you for another two months because the x-rays had indicated the root of
your tooth looked fine. In hindsight, I found out that this was not the case.
I know you went through a lot, my boy, and I am truly sorry that I did not
send you to the hospital sooner. I was afraid, afraid you would not come
through the surgery with your heart; afraid you could not make the journey
to the hospital. I had many concerns about what was best for you. In the
end, when your abscess didn't heal, I decided to take the chance and send
you to the hospital, since the alternative of putting you down was not an
option for me. The very thought of losing you brought me much tears and
heartache.
It was now June and off
we went to the hospital. I had to hire a special trailer, one you could walk
in and out the same way, since you were unable to back out or turn around.
I wasn't even sure whether you would be able to endure the journey, and you
hadn't been in a trailer for years. But you were amazing as always, and stood
quietly for the entire journey, as I nervously watched from the mini-TV inside
the trailer. I also wasn't sure if you would be able to recover from the
anesthetic because of your heart murmur, but you pulled through like the
trooper you were and were back with me in a couple of days. You also had
your supportive shoes on your hind legs, and they seemed to be working well
for you at this point. The surgery was a success
and the hole in your jaw healed up perfectly. I was finally thinking it was
going to get better for us, but it didn't.
About a month later, you got a
really bad sinus infection. I was so worried about you, and when it didn't
clear up, I called the vet. Well, this vet took one look at you and said:
"You need to start thinking about putting this horse down." Again I was
devastated at the thought of losing you. Unbeknownst to me, you also had
another abscess on your hind foot and that's why you were unwilling to move
in your stall. But I just sensed something else was going on with you other
than it being a DSLD flare-up, and so I called out another vet for a second
opinion. This vet confirmed my suspicions, you had yet another foot abscess.
After treatment, both the sinus infection and the abscess cleared up. We
had again come through another big hurdle together. But I often wondered
how much more you could take? All the while your fetlock continued to
drop.
In the end, even with all
the problems you had, you finally had several weeks where you seemed so content
and happy, bucking and cantering in the arena on your own, to the point where
you wouldn't let me catch you; another time, running out of your stall when
I forgot to lock it. It made me so happy to see you like this, your young
spirit shining through. How wonderful it would have been to see you like
this all the time, I thought... Even with your fetlock nearly touching the
ground, you seemed to have found peace and adapted yourself to this debilitating
disease. I was always amazed at how you could walk quite normally. Because
of this, I thought (hoped) we had more time together, but I was wrong. After
your last corrective shoeing, you didn't seem as comfortable walking, and
your fetlock was now reaching the ground. I had a dreadful, ominous feeling
that my time with you was slipping away. Sadly, through my many
researches, I did eventually get in touch with a vet that had the experience
and knowledge of this devastating disease and who had applied slings to the
affected legs with some luck. It was only then that I also found out about
two other drugs that could have eased your pain. I say sadly, because it
came too late for you, my beautiful, brave boy. The day I found this vet,
you went down in the arena and couldn't get up. You were administered drugs
to try to give you the strength to get up, but your hind legs were unable
to support you as you tried and tried, but couldn't muster the strength.
I would like to believe you were trying to get up for me. I know you didn't
want to leave me, and I didn't want you to leave me. You nearly made it one
time, with me pulling on your halter with all my might, but it wasn't enough.
I had to let you go my brave, brave boy...I stayed with you all the time
and even when you were gone, I laid on your neck crying and crying.
I still can't believe you are gone and I miss you so very much. But I know
(I hope) you are in that place they call "Rainbow Bridge," and I hope you
are cantering free of pain and eating as much grass as you can eat because
I know that's your favourite thing to do. But one day soon, I hope you will
see me from a distance and come running towards me, as I will to you, and
we will be together again, never to be parted.
I always promised you I would
never leave you, and I haven't. I have your ashes with me, and we will be
scattered together in the green, green, fields of England, just like I talked
to you about. Until then, my sweet, sweet boy, I miss you with all my heart
and soul. There will never be another you. As every day passes, I realize
how very special you were, my brave and noble boy. I was blessed to know
and care for you all these years, and I will search the Heavens until I find
you, until we are together again.
Your Mommy
Amadeous 
