Of Love and Loss...
Back in 2010 (has it really been that long?), my equine activities were the center of my life. Having earned a B.S. in equestrian studies, for many years I made my living by working as a trainer, instructor, barn manager, or in some other capacity within the horse industry. While employed at a Thoroughbred training & breeding farm, I acquired a recent retiree from the track: a 16.2 hand, 4-year old bay colt (soon to become a gelding) named Western Adversary. Wesley's story is one I hope to write someday; but for now, let it suffice to say that even when I had another job as my main source of income, I continued to give riding lessons part time and participate in all manner of activities with my equine companion and our "horsey" friends.
How quickly life can change!
One minute our feet are firmly on the floor; the next thing we know, the carpet
gets pulled out from under us. A major illness in 1999 made a shambles of life as I knew it. It took five
years and the help of some wonderful friends to help me get back on my feet...but
that too is a story for another time.
Fast
forward to 2009: I had my "horse of a lifetime,"
earning his keep and mine by working as live-in nanny and barn help for a friend. I was also earning some
pocket money as a data editor for the website "Horse Racing
Nation." When I started the blog, I
intended to put my observations about horses, racing, and life to print about
once a month, using my experiences with my OTTB and HRN as the basis. To my chagrin, I only managed to write a grand total of two articles (one which I later deleted), as it was almost more than I could do to keep up with the
race cards I was assigned for entry into the HRN database. So, for years my blog languished in cyberspace, all but forgotten.
Unfair as it may seem, experiencing a carpet-pulling once doesn't make things any easier when it happens a second time. In March 2011, once again my world was turned upside
down. It was my day off, so
while my friend Roberta (the farm owner) was bringing the horses in for
the night, I was in my basement apartment. My phone rang, and a frantic Roberta was on the other end screaming "Karen, come quick, there's something wrong with Wesley!"
I
grabbed a jacket, jumped into my barn boots, and rushed out the
door...to find my beloved 25-year-old Thoroughbred lying motionless on
the ground in front of the barn. He had galloped in from the pasture
for dinner and simply collapsed. He was still breathing, but his gums
were pale, and it was immediately apparent that this was the end. My
tears fell on his sweet face as I cradled his head in my arms. His
heart stopped, and gradually his eyes glazed over; the honest, willing,
kind, forgiving soul who was my "pretty boy" Wes...the love of my life
for 20 years...was gone.
