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Certified American Warmblood
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May 12, 1997 – October 12, 2011
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I have owned horses all my life and never experienced a death until Eden. As an avid animal lover, pet mom, county animal shelter volunteer, I never could have imagined the trauma of losing a horse. For the many tears that I have cried over past cats and dogs, a horse is totally different. More traumatic with Eden is that her death was totally unexpected. Here is Eden’s story:
I found Eden as an unbroke 2 year old for sale through a local paper. I went out to see her and knew immediately she would be my next equestrian adventure.
I was fortunate enough to have Eric Clarke recommended to me for her saddle breaking. Eric uses natural horsemanship in his training methods and it was an awesome experience to watch the process. The first time I was able to get on her back (saddle only, no bridle), it was one of the most thrilling experiences. As our training progressed and I was able to canter her for the first time, I was ecstatic. For a large horse, 17 hands, she had smooth gaits.
Eden and I eventually moved on after her training was completed. We had 4 wonderful years together and at the age of 6, I gave her away to a young girl who was looking to upgrade to a more challenging horse. My work had become so busy that I could not spend the time with her that I felt she needed. My goal was to have a competent person and who would take the best care of her.
The years continued to pass and I eventually regained some free time after changing jobs and found a nearby stable that had lesson horses available. I was thrilled to be able to ride again and enjoy the smells of a barn, horses and hay…there is nothing like it! I constantly thought of Eden and hoped she was doing well and was happy. Even though I wanted to try to contact the girl I had given her to, I was almost afraid to find out if anything bad had happened. I talked myself into “As long as I don’t ask, I will assume everything is good.”
In December of 2007, I decided one day to Google her name. I could not believe I had several hits returned! She was actually on several horse-for-sale websites. I was shocked, but thrilled! I immediately sent an e-mail through one of the sites explaining that Eden was once mine and that I had given her away and that I just wanted to know how she was doing and that she was being cared for.
Well, after many e-mails back and forth with the person who had her, she gave her back to me! I can honestly say that I have never cried so hard with tears of joy!! My husband walked into the room and thought some kind of tragedy had happened because of my crying. All I could do was point at the computer screen and squeak out, “I found Eden, these are happy tears!” I knew, without any doubt, I would never give her up again. I would care for her, love her, ride her, and spoil her for the rest of her life.
In early January 2008, we went to pick her up, as soon as I saw her, I called her name. She looked up immediately, ears perked. I don’t know if it is possible, but I really believe she remembered my voice! Eden was 10 going on 11 when I got her back; I never thought that we were only going to have less than a handful of years together.
Up until her death, life with my Eden back was great. We battled a few minor health issues, but overall she was in good shape. We would ride, play tag (she loved doing that with treats), I would give her “beauty treatments”, or I would simply brush and love her. Surely she would live well into her twenties, at least I thought.
On Tuesday, October 11, 2011, approximately 11:30 p.m., we were awoken by the door bell and our dogs barking up a storm. My husband went to the door. He came back to the bedroom and said we needed to go to the stable, he was told that the vet is there with Eden and we need to make some decisions. I was shocked and scared to death. This had to be a nightmare, right? I had been with her on Monday, she was fine, and how could anything be wrong.
Thankfully, I live less than 5 minutes from the stable. Eden was in the arena, head hanging from sedation. The vet had been treating her for colic symptoms for a couple of hours, but she was not responding. The ultrasound did not show anything specific, but the vet thought that she had a displaced bowel. Medication would not fix this; she would need surgery or put her down. So we loaded Eden into a trailer in the wee hours of the morning and headed for UW Madison vet school, about an hour away.
Now it is Wednesday, October 12, 2011, approximately 3:30 a.m., the emergency vet examines her and feels that the surgery had a good prognosis. We signed papers. The vet said that they would call me by 8:00 a.m., after the surgery and after they had gotten her back into a stall. I asked to see her before we left. By that time they had her in a stall with IV and fluids and prepping for the surgery. I told her it was o.k., momma was here and that the vets would make her feel better. I stroked her forehead, kissed her nose and told her I loved her. I did not think that would be the last time I saw her.
By 4:30 a.m., we were pulling into the garage from our return trip from Madison and my cell phone rang. It was the vet school and I knew it would not be good news. The vet explained that when Eden was opened up, they found a very large impaction, twisted intestine, and part of her stomach had burst. There was literally nothing they could do for her. I was numb. How could this possibly happen. 24 hours ago she was fine. The vet was very kind and asked if I would like a lock of her tail and mane and, of course, I said yes.
Over the next several days I received cards, flowers and condolences. The support was wonderful, but I needed something more. I did not want Eden to slip away from me without a proper ending. I searched the internet looking for horse memorials, horse statues, anything that might be the right fit. Then I came across this website. Thank you for letting me remember my horse and tell her story.
Eden, I will never forget you and will always love you. Someday I will be able to stroke your forehead, kiss your nose, and say I love you again.
Gina Ayersman
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Royal Gardener's Eden 
