In the aftermath of so much equine death in my immediate circle I am just not ready to lose Willie. Having been there for three deaths and burials, spending hours on the phone with Laurie from The Vineyard Mini Horse Rescue as one of her ponies, Peppercorn, faded away from some still unidentified abscess infection, my heart needs a rest. The other three were very old, surrounded by beloved friends, and it was just time for them to go. It is amazing how many friends a horse can accumulate in a lifetime, all three were over 30 years old. We had just enough time to say good-bye, and they were gone.
Willie was found unconscious six days after Jaime's death. He was down in his stall and we couldn't wake him, though he was still alive. There were five kids from the Dynamy program and three of us Eye of the Storm regulars present. Thanks to an unfinished sling I had made years ago, the eight of us were able to hoist Willie to his feet and attach him to the ceiling. He hung there like a dead spider. The vet was on his way.
Thinking he was dying, I brought Junebug, his very best friend, in to say good-bye. And - he woke up!
Since that day Willie has never laid down again on his own. After six days he's so exhausted that for some reason he develops muscle spasms in his "bad" hind leg which causes him to spin in a circle. He continually hits his right eye on whatever it is he crashes into. He's also a very picky eater, although he really wants to eat hay and he just can't anymore.
No one can accuse us of not trying to help him. We had his head x-rayed so the dentist could float his teeth properly, that is, the few he has left. He's had acupuncture, a chiropractic adjustment, steroids, pain meds daily, and buckets of loving care. He's very thin and looks like a plucked chicken. But Willie wants to live! He's really a horse though he's only 13.2 hands tall. He sparkles like a bright red jewel. He glistens with health and he heals practically overnight. His original name was Diamond Jim, we have recently discovered. He had a catastrophic tendon injury to his left hind leg leaving him, basically, three legged. No one in his past wants to take responsibility for hurting him, of course. But now he's with us for the rest of his life, and we love him.
We have become quite adept at plunking him down on a memory foam mattress so he can sleep without getting sores on his poor little bony parts. (See the photo.) After some hours we hoist him to his feet in the sling. In a few minutes he walks off, gets a drink of water, poops, pees, and dives into his food, totally refreshed for another few days. Then we do it all over again. We have changed his feed to Blue Seal Senior, which basically dissolves in his mouth and he's gaining weight.
One day recently I found him lying in the mud mashed up against the gate. He must have slipped and fallen. I ran next door and got three big men to come help me drag him through the gate and out of the mud. These awesome guys just roll their eyes when they see me coming and say, "Oh no, what's happened now?" Other than the horrible and constant noise they make, it's quite wonderful to be surrounded by heavy equipment operators, as there is always someone to come running. They all love animals and have different and very good ideas on how to help at such times. I love them all and can't thank them enough.
Though we again helped Willie to his feet, he had not rested, as he felt very exposed and afraid out in the open. So two days later we laid him down on his mattress in Faith's "cabana," a 14'x14' screen house with rubber walls, floor deep bedding, and his 4 inch memory foam mattress with fleece blankets to lay on.
He still could not relax. He kept trying to get up. Every three minutes Catherine and I would find ourselves standing outside to watch him. Cassie, his stall mate, parked herself just outside. She held vigil, refusing to eat or drink. I said to Catherine, "I feel like he's calling me, I just have to keep coming to him." Catherine said, "Yes, I feel him, too!" As did Cassie, apparently. We didn't want to go in and bother him, we wanted him to sleep. So, after due consideration, we gave him one mg of Xanax. In 15 minutes Willie was sound asleep.
Willie has taught me that undisturbed REM sleep is essential for old horses. They need a place to feel safe and comfortable, where no other horse will bully or harass them. They want to know there are others nearby to protect them from predators. Willie sent us all a clear message of "Help me, I can't get up and I'm alone." Catherine and I went in and lay down on the mattress with him. He wanted us there. We held him and petted him. We whispered to him. He slept surrounded by our love.
Late that night, after Xanax for both me and Willie, who now rested comfortably with his back against the cabana wall, I also tried to sleep. I could not. My mind would not let things go. I decided that if Willie could not get up on his own, tomorrow would be the last day of his life. I just couldn't do this anymore. I prayed, "Jehovah, you entrusted the care of Willie to me, but both he and I belong to you. Let your will take place in our lives and please let us both get some sleep. In Jesus' name." And we slept.
Next morning I found my Willie standing in the midst of chaos. He had eaten most of his grain, drank water, peed, and had just finished pooping on the edge of his mattress on which he as standing! The extra mattresses and blankets were strewn about and mashed into the mess. Evidently he had been up for a while and had been very busy. But he had gotten up alone!
I waded through it all and with tears of joy I threw my arms around him and thanked God for this gift! Kissing and kissing his beautiful old silken, shiny pony face, I feel I experience the resurrection of the dead with him over and over again!
How can we know when it's time to make the awful decision to euthanize them? Often it's obvious. Jaime was never getting up again. Buttons, Pepper and Bess were not going to make it. Snowdrop was living with endless unmanageable pain with no hope of relief. But, what about Willie? He's a tired old man, exhausted at times, yes, with muscle spasms at times, but he's not suffering. I watch him hobble around with his two friends, Cassie and Junebug, tossing his head like the stud muffin he thinks he is and I know he's happy to be alive. It's frustrating and inconvenient for us on the days we have to lay him down and help him up, but how much longer is he going to live anyway?
When life is no longer fun for him, he'll let me know. It will be his decision, not mine. I'm so glad. I don't know why I think that it's up to me anyway.
My sweet beautiful jewel, Diamond Jim Willie, kisses for his nose, another day, another gift of his presence. Maybe tomorrow will be his last day, but today is not.
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