Our beloved friend and loyal
companion, Fury, has passed through the gate to greener pastures. He was
42 years old.
Fury came to live with
me along with his pasture mate, Lil, over ten years ago. I own
a place in Texas where I combine rescuing horses with a youth volunteer
mentoring program. We rehabilitate neglected and abused horses and ponies.
The kids that volunteer here learn all about the care of horses, how to ride,
and how to treat these magnificent animals that our Lord created with respect
and kindness.
Well, over ten years ago,
I was contacted by a mutual friend who was going through a divorce and
was going to be on the road as a truck driver. He had to do something with
his horses. He had raised Fury, a jet black gelding, since birth. Back in
his day, Fury was the most awesome horse on the trail rides and his owner,
Ed, was offered huge amounts of money for him. But Ed always smiled
and turned it down. When Ed left for the trucking job, he had given Fury
and Lil to a neighbor to take care of. Two years later, Ed returned to this
area only to find Fury a bag of bones and missing an eye, and Lil very obese
and out of shape. The neighbors hadn't even noticed Fury lost an eye! They
were feeding both horses out of the same pan and Lil, who was 15 years younger
than Fury, wolfed most of the food down and left him very little to
eat.
So Ed
contacted me and I agreed to take Fury and Lil to my place
where they would live out their lives with grace and dignity. He would
pay for their feed but I would do the rest. They were both senior horses
even ten years ago, Fury was 30 and Lil was 15...both needed equine senior
feed...I figured they would be around for maybe five years, or less. Well,
Fury and Lil were here much longer and became icons around the
place. Especially Fury. He was the equivalent of a very proud, but very rickety
old man. He always walked with his head slightly tilted to the side, due
to his blindness in that eye, like a little old man with his hat cocked slightly
to the side, displaying his tenacity for life...
Josh, a quiet, shy young
man who has worked here since he was 10, was Fury's most ardent fan. Josh
was loyal to Fury and vice-versa. They had a connection, an understanding
between them that was very obvious. Josh treated Fury with kindness and
gentleness, and in return Fury taught Josh the finer points of riding on
his strong back. Even at his advanced age, Fury was first at the gate, first
to try to get his head in a bridle, first in the trailer. Always up for an
adventure! Once, when we planned a ride at the beach, I told Josh that
since we were probably going to be racing, going up and down the dunes etc.
- cuz it's a big blast - that he could ride someone else instead of Fury,
since Fury probably wouldn't be able to keep up with the pace we'd be riding.
I'll never forget the look on Josh's face...he paused for a minute, eyes
cast upward in thought, and then he softly asked, "When's the last time Fury
ever got to GO anywhere?". I thought about it and shrugged my shoulders and
said, "I don't think he's ever been ridden anywhere but here on the
property since we've had him.". Josh then said, "I'll take Fury. I don't
really care if we race or not.". Now for a ten year-old boy to have that
kind of faithfulness, and make the sacrifice of staying behind while all
his friends took off in a cloud of sand and dust, whooping and hollering,
and coming back with huge grins, going on and on about who won etc., that,
my friends, is TRUE FRIENDSHIP and TRUE LOYALTY. Josh and Fury were a unique
pair. I feel honored to have been part of BOTH their lives for the last ten
years or so.
A few years back, we discovered
Fury laying in the mud in the pasture one morning when he didn't come up
for breakfast. He was alive, but signs of a struggle were apparent in the
muddy ground where he had been thrashing for who knows how long in the night.
He was literally exhausted, having no strength left to try to get up. He
had arthritis in his right hip and was laying on the right side, so he couldn't
get his right rear leg up under him enough to push himself up. He could get
his two front feet out in front and sort of sit up like a dog, but couldn't
make the final push to get up. I tried to help him, got more people to help
him, but we couldn't get a foothold in the slippery mud from an overnight
shower. I called a man with a tractor and he came with a gym pole attached
to the back. We made a makeshift sling and put it under Fury's belly and
hips. We got him up after a few tries. Once he was up, he was fine.
A few weeks later he was down
again. This time the tractor didn't work. He just couldn't get up. I called
the vet to come out and see if perhaps he might be colicking or maybe having
seizures. The vet just dismissed it as old age, and said that I should just
put him down. He would NOT come out, even though I begged him to. I resolved
myself to the fact that there was nothing else I could do. I talked to the
man with the tractor and we were discussing backhoes when I realized I couldn't
proceed with the plan to put Fury down until I called Josh's mom. I didn't
want to make the decision to put him down without letting her know so she
could make the decision on whether to tell Josh ahead of time and let him
say goodbye, or wait till it was over. At first, she said she didn't want
him to see Fury in this condition, and since he was in school, she would
just let him know when he got home. I went back to making backhoe arrangements.
Fury kept picking his head up and looking around, then laying back down with
a sigh, exhausted. I offered him some water and he took a few sips. I heard
something from up by the house and when I turned to look, I saw Josh's mom,
Cheryl, and a streak running through the pasture at lightning speed...Josh.
He came to a stop by sliding on his knees through the wet mud, coming to
a stop right by Fury's head. Fury picked his head up and Josh threw his arms
around his neck and buried his face in his mane. I knew Josh wouldn't want
us to see him crying, so I just turned around and spoke with Cheryl about
the plans. Josh heard me and begged me not to put Fury down. "I can get him
up! I know he'll do it for me!", he said. "Please let me try..." I asked
the tractor man if he would mind giving it one more try. (We'd tried for
over an hour, only making Fury more and more weak with each attempt.) The
man agreed halfheartedly to give it another try and got into the tractor
seat and started it up. As the pole tightened the sling around Fury's belly,
his body just bent like a willow branch and his head hung to the side, limp
and unresponsive. The tractor man shook his head and started to turn off
the tractor. Josh yelled, "One more try!". Josh put his arms around Fury's
neck and looked him square in the good eye and said, "Come on buddy...you
can do it...come on...TRY!" The pole came up, the sling tightened, but this
time Fury's legs scrambled frantically under him, slipping in the mud under
him, sliding out time and time again. Josh never let go of Fury's neck, yelling
encouragement to the old man saying, "Come on Fury! Get up! Come on!" With
one final burst of energy, Fury struggled with every ounce of strength left
and got his legs under him. We all rushed to his side and helped steady him
on his wobbly legs. Fury's body was quivering and his sides were heaving,
as he gasped for breath. Josh steadied him for several minutes, offering
him water in small sips. After about 10 minutes, I told him that we should
try to get him out of the mud and up to the house. Fury and Josh made their
way slowly and surely through the muddy pasture until they reached the gate
to drier ground. Josh made Fury his equine senior mash for breakfast and
Fury ate it in record time. He took a healthy drink of water and by the time
he'd finished with breakfast he was right as rain again.
We later found out that another
horse that boarded in our pasture had, for some unknown reason, run over
to Fury and slammed into him purposely, hitting him broadside and knocking
him down. Since Fury landed on the wrong side, the arthritic side, he couldn't
get back up. When Fury laid down on his own, he always laid on the other
side so he could get himself back up. The horse that knocked him over wasmoved to another boarding facility which solved the problem for
Fury.
In these last two years,
Fury had finally started to show his age a little. Prior to that, thanks
to good nutrition, you couldn't really tell he was old at all. Good muscle
tone, fat, shiny...people were always amazed when I told them how old he
was. He was always sort of a "loner" in the pasture...friendly to the other
horses, but stand-offish, probably due to his blindness in one
eye.
Two years ago, I rescued
two Quarter Horse mares, aged 21 and 20 from a ranch in Boling. They had
used these poor mares for breeding all their lives. They never were without
a foal by their side. Once they reached the age where they were no longer
able to produce...the ranch was going to simply shoot them! A secretary at
the ranch contacted me and begged me to come get the mares. I did. They were
in awful condition. Matted manes and tails, underweight, hooves that were
long overdue for trimming, cracked and split. One mare, Miss D, was in better
shape than the other one named Shadow. Shadow was scared, skinny,
her mane was one HUGE mat of hair, took five hours to comb it out, but after
tender loving care, she bounced back quickly. The mares had always been together
at the other place...they were inseparable. Unfortunately Miss D had to be
put down earlier this year in May due to a leg injury.
The amazing thing is that ever
since the mares came, Fury's demeanor changed. A bond had developed
between Fury and Shadow. Shadow was just as black as Fury, and she had developed
a shiny coat and gained all her weight back...she was really beautiful and
Fury knew it! He had always been the oldest horse out here and never really
bonded with any of the horses and ponies. I don't know whether it was due
to age difference or maybe because of his blindness in that one eye. But
when Fury first saw Shadow, it was a love connection. After Miss D passed
away, Shadow sought comfort from Fury. Fury never showed much emotion until
she came into his life. But once she became "his girl", Fury regained some
of his youthful spirit and attitude. I saw another horse sort of try to make
Shadow move away from Fury, and Fury spun around and with all his might,
threw both hind legs in the air, kicking the horse with both hooves. Now,
mind you, he only kicked the other horse about four inches from the ground...not
bad for an arthritic horse...but it was the effort he put into it. The belief
he had that he could still fight for his mare.
I loved to watch him after he
finished eating. I would put him back in the pasture and if Shadow was still
outside the gate eating, he would refuse to move away from the gate. If she
was put away first, he would stop eating and go to the gate to be let in
the pasture. Now, if you knew Fury like we did...he never left a crumb of
feed before. Now he would just walk away from a meal in order to be near
Shadow. They were soulmates. When we would take Shadow out to ride her,
he would nicker and whinny and pace the fence for her until she returned.
He had found love in his golden years. He was happy and very
content.
On Monday, July 28 of this
year, when I fed all the horses and ponies, Fury didn't come to the gate
like usual. He eats outside the pasture and is the only one who doesn't need
to be tied up. He's been around long enough to know where his food is....you
didn't have to open the gate for him. While you tied the other horses
up at their feed pans, you just left the gate unlatched, but still closed
and he would come up after the coast was clear and take his lips and open
the gate and walk over to his feed pan. When he was done, he'd push the gate
open with his nose and put himself away. After all, he was 42 years
old, it's not like he didn't have the routine down pat. You could
almost hear him saying in an old man's voice, "Sonny boy, let me tell you
about the good ol days, when horses were HORSES, not these high falutin'
sissy things with pedigrees and no brains....why when I was a young colt...".
I could just imagine the stories he told our younger horses and
ponies.
When Fury didn't show up
for dinner, I went into the pasture and looked all over. When I went to the
pole barn, Fury was standing just inside, head hanging a little, tongue sticking
out of the front of his mouth, like it had been doing lately. It only would
happen around feeding time, and he would drool as well. Poor Fury only had
about nine teeth left, hence the need for equine senior feed, wetted down,
it made a nice mash with all the nutrients and roughage built in so no hay
was required. He couldn't eat hay or grass at all. Of course, he always
tried...he would come up for dinner and before he took his first mouthful
of wet mash, he would spit an oblong, cigar-shaped wad of grass out, probably
having been chewing that same lump of grass for the past 20 minutes! He never
would chew it up and swallow it, but always had a plug of grass between the
cheek and gums....a true Texas steed for sure!
Somehow, this night seemed
different. I really didn't think he was seriously ill, as he didn't look
any different really than any other time. He didn't want to eat, but again,
he did that now and then when it was really hot as it was that day. Shadow
was eating her food and he was just standing by her, staring at his feed
bucket. He was breathing just a little bit fast, so I took the water hose
over to him and ran cool water over his back and under his belly. He sighed
a big one and got that happy look in his good eye. He stood there quite a
while enjoying the cool water. I talked to him and pet him while letting
the water run...for some reason I felt the need to tell him that evening
what a marvelous specimen of a horse he was, complimenting him on his shiny
coat, telling him I still have never found a horse with a smoother canter
than his. He soaked it up as always...he loved to be talked to and touched.
Shadow was done eating and I put her back in the pasture. Fury instantly
went to the gate which I had latched with the snap and gazed at me over his
shoulder, as if to say, please...I want to be with my girl...so I let him
in the pasture and they walked away side-by-side, tails swishing lazily,
as if two old friends were taking an evening stroll, talking about the good
old days. I went about the rest of my chores and finally turned in around
11:30 p.m.
At 2:45 a.m., I sat up in
bed with only one thought in my head...go check on Fury. I didn't really
understand why that thought came into my head. I hadn't had a feeling he
was sick or in any distress or might not make it through the night when
I'd laid down that night. He seemed fine other than not wanting dinner.
He'd turned down dinner or breakfast several times before and by the next
morning or evening, was back on track for food. So there was no
premonition...which I usually have when it comes to things like
this.
So why did I sit up and
have one thought, just one in my head? And why, after a really, really long,
hard, hot day, which left me exhausted....did I get up right away and get
dressed? Any other time I would have laid back down and not given it another
thought. I like to sleep...
It was a feeling that I
couldn't ignore. I had to see Fury. I walked out in the moonlit pasture,
counting heads. Hot Rod was standing by the round bale, Twilight was by the
far end of the pole barn, Shadow was laying just outside the pole barn, but
not asleep. Her legs were curled up under her and her head was up and ears
forward watching me approach. She never got up as I came closer which was
highly unusual for her. I looked just inside the pole barn and there lay
my dear friend Fury. Flat on his side, as if just totally relaxed and asleep.
I knew before I ever touched him that he was gone. It was as if God spoke
into my heart and said, "I've got him with me...don't worry Donna. He's right
here. He's fine."
I didn't get hysterical.
I didn't bawl like a baby like I have in the past when I've lost a horse,
or any animal, for that matter. A single tear went down my face as
I sat next to him and stroked his face and told him how much I loved
him.
Hot Rod, our 17hh Tennessee
Walker, came up behind me and softly blew his breath in my hair. His
eyes were wide as he saw Fury laying on the ground. He gingerly walked towards
my Old Man and sniffed his legs. He came back over to me and pressed
his head into my chest. I stroked his face and told him it was okay, that
our dear friend was young again, galloping in God's green pastures now. Then,
Hot Rod went over to Fury again, and put his nose close to Fury's and blew
a few gentle puffs of his breath into Fury's nostrils. I said, "He's already
gone buddy...we can't bring him back.". As if he understood, Hot Rod walked
slowly out of the barn and stood just outside. I looked over towards the
other end of the barn and there stood Twilight, one of our shetland
ponies. This little pony has always been shy around people and isn't
easily caught. She doesn't come up to anyone but her owner, Tiffany. I was
amazed that she was standing just a few feet away from me and not wanting
to run away. I turned to her and said, "It's okay, Twi, I'll step out so
you can pay your respects.". I walked out and as I looked back, I saw her
enter the barn, headed over to Fury.
Shadow never left where
she was when I came out there. She had stood up sometime during my visit,
but didn't move from where she had stood guard over her companion. I know
in my heart that she was right there with him in the final moments of life
he had here on earth. I hope that I am as lucky when it's my time to move
on.
I'm going to miss the "Old
Man", as I affectionately nicknamed him long ago...he was a great horse,
gentle in spirit and a credit to his breed. But I am ever so thankful to
our Lord and Savior that Fury was happy and healthy right up to the end,
having found love in his final glory days, and drifting peacefully off to
sleep at the place he called home...Ponyland. I know that as he opens his
eyes once again and sees the beautiful lush pastures of Heaven, seeing all
of it through TWO good eyes, feeling the stamina and energy of a young horse
come back into his veins, he's galloping off to find his old friends
who have passed before him, ready to tell his stories about life on earth
at Ponyland and about all the wonderful kids who loved and adored him.
And most of all, one very special young man named Josh...who gave him
a reason to live this long...
Fury 
