All of us, that love and care for horses and all animals, have experienced the loss of same. These times usually come with gut-wrenching decisions, emotional highs and lows and heartache that is as big as the pastures in which our beloved four-legged friends run. I would like to share with you a tribute of sorts to those that have passed from my life.

A heavy heart accompanies me this cool summer morn – attributed mostly to the inevitable passing of time. An unexpected and very sudden death of a much-loved mare left all involved in my quiet little barn shocked and saddened – after weeks of anti-biotic injections, given to help treat a bad case of cellulitis, her body, swollen from the accumulation of all past injections reacted to this, the last shot, and died. Reactions from this sort of penicillin are common – death from such is rare. I think she could no longer fight all her body was battling and she simply gave up – I don’t blame her – it was a long and painful illness and one that seemed determined not to let go.

My barn, an unobtrusive realization of a childhood dream situated down the hill behind a small, quaint village in upstate New York, resembles more an extended family than a business. Throughout my tenure here relationships have been forged, cracked, repaired or let go of as is true in most families and as is true with the inevitable passing of time. Most of the folks and horses for which I am entrusted to care have been here for many years. I have had the pleasure of watching teenagers grow into young adults, colts and fillies mature into lovely riding partners and middle-aged horses in their prime turn into grouchy old equine citizens – a title and attitude which I would never begrudge these dear old beasts.

All sorts of animals have blessed my life throughout the years. My mother raised her children to respect all life and taught us that we, as humans, just because we can, really do not possess the right to ‘use’ animals for our own purposes. But since we, as a species, have taken the outrageous liberty of domesticating their dear influences we, the caregivers, do now have the obligation to take good care. These values, well learned and firmly ingrained into the fiber of who I am, traveled with me during my life’s journeys - serving to keep my somewhat arrogant confidence from steamrolling all those in my path. Many believe that animals have no souls. I firmly disagree. Centered in my gut, down deep into the pure core of my being, is the unwavering belief that animals are our souls and heaven without animals is, indeed, no heaven at all.

Without the varying assortment of fuzzy, cuddly, sleek and graceful creatures and their all embracing, humbling, unconditional love, humans would have long ago succumbed to their greed and self-serving purposes. Animals anchor us to home and hearth and ultimately to each other. Often, as their first lesson in gracious sharing, children are given pets to love and nurture. What would have become of some of us if we did not have these first precious lessons of sacrifice and love?

One of the most important lessons animals teach us is that of death and loss. Pets often expose us to our very first experience with grief. We learn to mourn, we learn to cry and most critically we learn to appreciate those we love while they are here with us. Animals very rarely live as long as their human partners and in spite of that agonizing fact, or maybe more precisely because of it, we dedicate ourselves to their care. Pets extend life, exhaust our wallets, entertain us, trust us (sometimes without good reason) and look to us for all of their needs.

Animals are our conscience – our lifelines – our partners – our souls – please! please! handle with care.

Each time we lose a horse the process of moving on includes the retiring of the feed buckets that bears the name of our departed equine friend. Scrubbing with cleanser and steel wool I try to erase the years of molasses stains that impregnate the rubbery plastic inside and out. It is a grief-stricken job but one that holds a bit of magic as well – each time, even after a really tough scrubbing, I fail, quite thankfully, to eradicate the bold black letters, written in permanent marker, that loudly and unmistakably proclaim whose feed it contained. Without a doubt in my heart I believe that those markers quite purposefully refuse to be erased. Not a line or smudge budges. Not the proud names of each majestic, soft-eyed beast and certainly not their precious memories. No! Not one little speck of those “magic” markers ever fades. The marker is clear – a last bold declaration that these and all of our soul mates will live on, forever, in our hearts – running, nostrils flared, ears flat against the wind, limbs stretching and pulling their smiling riders and their very grand magnificence forth and up the hill for all of time.

Our friends are always sorely missed – but never forgotten – and those remaining will undoubtedly continue to impress their unique magic upon us each and every day they are here – marking time as it passes and continuing to define our souls through all of said time.