I don’t talk a lot about other horses at my stable, even the ones I interact with a lot, just because their owners didn’t ask me to, and I don’t feel the need to drag them into my little piece of blogland. Except for one. I dragged one in. Because she was special, and she belongs to my best friend.
She’s the closest thing O has ever had to a best friend. That’s probably because they are both super opinioned mares, and no one else wants to deal with them. But it’s still cute.
On April 27th, Honey started exhibiting very unusual and extreme symptoms out of nowhere; she struggled to stand, had fluid leaking from her ears, and held her pretty face with a tilt. With neurological issues raising flags all over the place, our vets banded together to come up with a very aggressive plan. While she improved and could leave her stall for hand walks within a week, things didn’t keep getting better. She fell one day, with my friend leading her. And then again, and again.
She started to shake in fear of things that she saw every day. To look in her eyes, was to know that she didn’t recognize or understand what was happening to her. They battled for almost a month, but yesterday my friend made the call she hoped she’d never have to.
Honey will no longer be in pain, or fear of what is happening. She will be at peace, racing across the fields like she loved to do. Even just a day or two ago, somehow through it all, she still recognized O, and they would wicker and snuffle at each other with the stall between them. Maybe it was their way of saying goodbye too.
Honey just turned 10 years old. She was a Thoroughbred with a gorgeous face, a tricky right lead, race wins under her belt, a super cute jump, and a heart of gold. She carried my friend through her pregnancy, recovery and was a true part of their family.
She will be missed terribly. The only words my friend wanted to leave here was the simple reminder, always, always cherish your rides, you don’t know when they will be your last.