Big Love: Pye, the Fire Horse

People often ask if Red Dog Ranch is a dog rescue. I explain what RDR Equine is and then I tell them it is named after our beloved golden retrievers and that we live with a bunch of mis-fits (rescue horses, donkeys, dogs—unfortunately only one at the moment—and cats) they typically reply “well I hope you at least have a red horse?” We did not…until 4.5 years ago.

I waited too long! I should have shared Pye’s story earlier…I thought about it. But doing so meant sharing tragic details that only a few people knew. Now that he has crossed the rainbow bridge I hope more people will learn about him, his strength, his perseverance and his ability to love…Big Love!

THE UNWANTED HORSE

It was late summer 2021. I ended my day at a boarding barn not too far from my house. Towards the end of our time together my friend/client, Clarissa (her name has been changed to maintain her anonymity), pointed out a horse in another dry-lot whom she was concerned about. By this time it was dark so the only light was coming from the dim outdoor barn lights. As I walked over to look, even in the dark, I could see a fragile looking horse with significant lameness…”neurological” I thought. The mud in the dry-lot was so thick the horse was struggling to move and visibly unable to bear any weight on his front left leg. As I leaned over the wood fence he came near and allowed soft stroking on his face and head. Soon, I was holding his head in my hands. He must have been so exhausted that he just needed someone to support the weight of his head for a bit. I leaned further over the fence and whispered in his ear: “I will do everything I can to help you!”

I turned to my client and launched into rapid-fire questioning about this horse, the owner*, hay supply, feeding schedule, barn management, etc. As we were chatting another person had just arrived and saw us with the feeble horse. He mentioned that everyone was concerned about the horse. Obviously! But nothing was being done to actually help the horse. The details of what happened next are foggy to me as I am writing this but before I left that night the plan was for this other person to get word to the horse’s owner through another boarder: this horse needed to be seen by a veterinarian! ASAP!

For the next month and a half this horse was my obsession. He was all I could think about and I did not even know his name.

He was eventually seen by a vet. Clarissa kept me informed about what was happening. The vet diagnosed an abscess, provided very clear instructions to the owner about wrapping the foot and caring for him while he healed, which included the recommendation of moving him into a better living situation where he had more access to hay since the horse he shared the dry-lot with was prohibiting him from eating. Excellent news! We were all so hopeful.

Until…Clarissa called to tell me that the horse had been moved to a new dry-lot, following the vet’s instructions. However, this was a small pen in an area of the property where he was all alone and had no sight-lines to any horses. I drove over to see for myself. Her description was correct. Small pen, all alone, could not see any horses, just cars driving by on the road. His one hay bag barely had hay remaining (would he be getting more before night-fall?) and he was calling for someone to respond….nobody did. I was besides myself! Over the next few weeks I saw him when I would be at the barn for Clarissa and her horse. Each time I saw him he was getting worse. He was losing weight, visibly stressed and out of desperation he was nibbling on arborvitae bushes leaning over the rails. 

I was desperate to help this horse! I came home crying to my husband, Tim, and he wanted to immediately go see the horse and the situation. Tim was shocked when we turned into the parking lot! Besides all the cursives directed at the owner of the horse and the barn management, his declaration that “you need to get this horse and bring him home” changed the course of our lives.

DEAR GOD IT’S ME SAM

How the heck do I do that?

My default action when I do not know what to do? Pray.

“Dear God, it’s me, Sam, if I am the one to help this horse you need to show me how. Soon! Please!” 

Every day my conversation with God went something like this: “ Ok God…if I really am the one to help this horse, please show me what to do today.” Some days I would follow-up with Clarissa to see if she heard anything about the horse or the owner. I asked her to try to get the owner’s phone number through one of the other boarders. I drove past the the facility every time I could, to see how the horse was doing, did he have hay and water, was there anyone visiting him? One day I was working with Clarissa’s horse and saw a pick-up truck pull up next the the horse’s pen. Someone got out unloaded a couple flakes of hay, tossed it over the fence to him. I sprinted to the truck before he could take off. Fortunately, he saw me coming and the first thing out of my mouth was “are you the owner of the horse?” “Nope,” he said, “just helping out a friend.” I asked if he knew the owner and he explained that he did. As we were chatting I was conducting a second internal conversation with myself…”I have got to find a way to get to the owner.” Before I knew it, I had blurted out “I am looking for a pasture pet for one of my horses. This one looks super nice and calm. Do you think the owner would be open to selling him?” “Might be” he responded. That was all I needed. I handed over my business card and asked the man to please give it to the owner. He said he would likely see the owner over the weekend. As the pick-up truck turned-out on to the road, I began to cry. “Thank you God!” I do not believe in coincidence. Only God could have arranged for that to happen! For the first time since I met this horse I felt some hope that, yes, I might just be the one to help him.

The weekend could not come soon enough! I was so full of angst! My husband, Tim, was not. He was fully confident that the owner would call. “You are offering the owner cash for an un-wanted horse” he said repeatedly. “They will call!”

HOW MUCH IS AN UNWANTED HORSE WORTH?

Saturday finally arrived. I do not know how many times I checked my phone that morning. By 12noon I felt defeated. Surely the owner should have called by now. Tim, however, was still 100% confident that I would get a call today. And sure enough…I did get the call mid-afternoon. The owner was pleasant and said that they were not looking to sell the horse. I repeated the “story” that I was looking for a pasture pet for one of our horses, included a few more made-up details and then asked if they would please consider selling the horse. We offered what we thought was a reasonable amount for a skinny, lame and unwanted horse. But the owner went on to say how valuable the horse was and what it took to acquire this horse in the first place, blah, blah, blah. So we countered with a higher offer but it still was not enough. Sadly we ended the conversation with no horse. My last words to the owner: “If you change your mind, please call me back. We will give him a wonderful home.”

I was devastated. Crushed. How could this have happened? We got so close! 

“God! WTF?!”

Tim, on the other hand, was again totally certain that the owner would call back. “We just offered the owner what amounts to a mortgage payment for an unwanted horse. They will call back,” he said emphatically.

Minutes later…they called back. We had a deal but we had to pick him up tomorrow, Sunday. I do not even recall how we cobbled together the cash because the banks had already closed for the weekend and there were limits on our ATM withdrawals. But we somehow got the cash and then kicked into high gear. We had to get ready to bring home a new and very un-healthy horse. I immediately called Scott and Karen at the Midwest Horse Welfare Foundation and they coached me for the next several months on how to support this horse on his journey back to health. I am forever grateful to them for their generosity of time and wisdom.

“Thank you, God! Please forgive my swearing.”

THE TRANSFORMATION BEGINS

The once “unwanted horse”, whose name was Pye, settled in to our place nicely. He was ravenous (of course!). He was sweet. He accepted rain sheets during the cold fall storms and accommodated to our daily schedule quite nicely. We also found out over time that he had horrible PTSD, severe damage to his ears and did not appreciate being touched or brushed. No worries. We had plenty of time. 

I had arranged for the vet who originally diagnosed his abscess at his previous boarding facility to come evaluate him. In addition to being concerned about his weight, we also had concerns about his hooves and dropped fetlocks. The vet was shocked by how much weight Pye had lost in just a month since she last saw him at the other barn. His body condition score (BCS) was a 2. 

Sadly, after this first vet visit he was diagnosed with DSLD (Degenerative Suspensory Ligament Desmitis), PPID (Pituitary Pars Intermedia Dysfunction). Over the years of the vet visiting Pye for annual shots and adjusting medications and trying to figure out how to support a big horse with tiny feet (and the effects of chronic laminitis), even repairing a 3inch open wound through his eyelid (no idea how that happened) we began to affectionately tease each other that she saved him the first time and we saved him the second time. But seriously, were it not for her, he would not be with us. I am ever so grateful to our vet!

BIG LOVE

As soon as Pye was ready, we introduced him to our little herd (Copper-a handsome buckskin quarter horse with the most beautiful amber eyes and Romeo-our scrappy and mischievous black thoroughbred). Immediately, Copper did what Copper does…ignored Pye and Romeo did what Romeo does…assumed Pye was his new best friend and playmate. He was! From that first day on the two of them were inseparable. Pye was always and I do mean always next to Romeo. They would play Romeo’s favorite game of chase: Romeo would nip at Pye and then take off running whereby Pye would then do what he was told and chase after Romeo. Some of Pye’s most glorious floating trots were seen while he was playing chase with Romeo. It was always Romeo initiating and never the other way around. Although, there were times that you could tell Romeo was tired of having Pye literally at his side 24/7…he needed some space. Romeo’s go-to tactic to alleviate this problem, which prior to Pye was 100% effective, was biting the other horse. A big bite from Romeo and any other horse would instantly be gone. Not Pye! I swear he thought those bites were little Romeo love-taps and would instantly be right back at Romeo’s side.

Of course, this was all a perfect arrangement for Copper, for he was no longer the recipient of Romeo’s bites or constant attempts to play chase. Copper, affectionately known as the “fun-police”, just assumed his role and would only interrupt their shenanigans if it interrupted his hay munching.

Pye was truly smitten with Romeo. They did everything together! Shared hay bags, napped in the sun nearly touching each other, kissed each other’s nose through the open window between their stalls. Every night he had to be next to Romeo when they came in the barn and at first he would try to follow Romeo into his stall. It took us some time to get Pye comfortable going into his own stall but eventually he would go as long as he saw Romeo go into his stall first. In the morning Pye would go out first and then wait for his BFF to meet him on the other side of the gate. Last spring Romeo had a reaction to his vaccinations, resulting in a bad colic. Every time I had to take Romeo out for a walk Pye would call and call and call until Romeo returned. We did everything we could to ensure that Pye and Romeo could always be together or at least be close to each other. 

Pye had a big spirit! He brought an energy to our lives that we did not even know was missing. You could feel it and sense it wherever he was. He was smart as whip or perhaps just gloriously funny. If we were not careful he would find a way to get out of the barn and we would find him munching on grass in the pasture. Or he would go into stealth-mode, sneak past us through the gate and we would find him standing on the other side of the barn on the hay mound reaching up for a special mouthful of hay. He loved playing with the water when he drank. He brought joy to our world and made us smile every day.

Pye never loved us. Well, at least not in the way most horse people want their horse to express love. For his first year here we touched him as little as possible, just when necessary. There were certain areas of his body that were definitely red-lines and we respected that. We paid keen attention to his communication and if we got a side eye or ear movement or a tail swish we stopped what we were doing and stepped away. We needed to demonstrate to him that humans can and will honor him. Over time and with care and consistency he began to trust us. After being with us for one entire year he finally approached me and asked for a neck scratch. That was so huge! We did not know much about his prior life but we always felt the he never quite felt safe in the world. It got to the point for Tim and I that it did not really matter whether or not he loved us or expressed it. We loved him! And what we wanted for him more than anything was to feel loved by others and for others and he definitely got that with us and Romeo.

THE UNEXPECTED

It was probably in Pye’s second year with us that we seemed to have achieved a healthy status quo. Fixing the angles of his hind hooves better supported his fetlocks, alternating between boots and glue-on shoes for his front hooves made him feel so much more comfortable that he was electing to go outside every single day (unlike his first year with us he would sometimes choose to stay inside all day) and his PPID was well managed with medication. We had a good feeding routine that included a small amount of grain to carry his supplements, tested our hay to ensure low sugars and did our best to balance nutrients/minerals. He received some bodywork and acupressure when he would accept it. I actually stopped being incessantly worried about him, his approximately 26 year old body was doing remarkably well. 

Unfortunately, that reprieve from worry did not last long. He started to cast himself in his stall. We could hear him kicking the barn walls from inside our house. The donkeys would run from the barn when he would do this. Luckily he was always able to get himself up and walk it off like nothing was wrong. Trimming his feet was becoming more challenging. As the trimmer for all of our equine, his inability to keep his hooves up longer than 10 to 30 seconds at a time made each hoof trim a marathon, fortunately he was good hearted about it, as long as there were treats. He was also moaning. He moaned when he would play chase with Romeo or making sharp turns at a walk and definitely when laying down or getting up. Making adjustments to pain management was a recurrent theme and a constant concern of whether we were able to manage his pain effectively. Six months ago was the last time we applied glue-on shoes. After a very difficult application they stayed on less than a week and I resigned myself to him being in boots permanently. Even the routine of putting boots on in the morning and taking them off at night was challenging. His ability to hold his feet up long enough for me to take them off was diminishing. Sometimes it would take 2-3 efforts to get one off. And, his ability to support himself on 3 legs was waning. I could see his support legs trembling. Unfortunately, I had horrible visions of him collapsing on top of me and so was doing my best to be speedy. 

The next part to the story…well, I’ve tried to write it several times. There is just no way to share something so intimate and so sad and so disappointing. I can hardly find the words.

Allow me to just convey that even with all of the above warning signs, the unexpected reared its head in the year of the fire horse. Over the course of a few weeks Pye experienced several very traumatic incidents due to his DSLD that required us to have the really hard discussions about quality of life and death. Tim would repeat the same question: “we saved his life, how is it possible that we have to now take his life?” I had no satisfactory answer.

Tim and I were distraught. For context, I should mention that all of this was taking place while my mom was in hospice and transitioning to the other side due to complications from Parkinson’s disease. Emotions were high.

I called our vet. 

YELLOW DAISIES

The day arrived. The night before I communicated with Pye. I needed him to know what was going to happen and why. I communicated the way we all “speak” to our beloveds in the moonlight while lying in bed, silently crying myself to sleep.

Part of me was relieved that we made it to the day without another horrific incident, but mostly I felt shattered…with just a bit more of a breeze I would fall apart into a thousand pieces. My original plan for the location did not work because it took Pye too far away from Romeo. In my head I thought it would be hard for Romeo to see everything and yet Pye knew best and he needed that connection with Romeo, even through a window. 

If you have gone through euthanasia with a pet you know it can happen fast. Our dear vet spent some quiet time with Pye (I still thank God for them everyday) and then it happened. Just like that (snap) he left us. I could not breathe. Our vet and the assistant wanted to be helpful and yet I did not want anyone to touch him. After hugs and sincere condolences they departed. I collapsed on his neck and just breathed him in…something I did every day, several times a day and I could not believe this would be my last day breathing his beautiful scent. Tim and I sat there crying, stroking his mane and hugging him for a long time. I could hear Romeo calling for Pye. His calls were becoming more anxious because Pye was not calling back. I took turns bringing each of the herd-mates out for good- byes. Romeo needed to come back several times. Eventually munching on the grass became more important to him and that’s when I knew he was ok to be turned out with the others.

Tim and I continued to spend time with Pye and held a ceremony, the three of us. Just like how it all began. I wanted to find some flowers to honor him during the ceremony and there were some beautiful yellow daisies still perfect from one of the bouquets sent for my mom’s passing. Little beauties that look like the sun, perfect for our Fire horse. I looked up the symbolism and read that they had to do with joy and devotion. Yes, devotion was the message. With sweet yellow-daisies tucked down his mane and one in each of his deformed ears, we told him how much we loved him, shared stories, read poems and prayers and then played the song “Down in the Garden” by Damh the Bard. 

Down in the garden,

Is a willow tree,

Its hair in the breeze,

Whispers to me.

A voice is calling,

From deep inside,

It's longing to find,

One of its kind.

For I am the rising sun,

I am the birdsong when the day is done.

I am the tear in your eye,

I am alive.

Down in the garden,

Where the mushrooms grow,

And the moss-covered stone,

Shows me home,

Wet soil on my fingers,

I draw back the veil,

And I say a prayer,

But I'm not scared.

Down in the gardens,

Leaves will fall,

Down to the ground,

Without a sound,

If ever you need me,

There's a willow tree,

It's hair in the breeze,

That's where I'll be.

It turns out that Red Dog Ranch needed a red horse and we did not know it until Pye showed up in our life. And now that he is gone, the missing piece of his big spirit is nearly unbearable. But, like the song we played at his funeral, we will keep looking for him amongst the giant Cottonwoods (we don’t have willow trees) at the back of the pasture, I know he is still here. 

Where would Pye go without his Romeo?

(*I usually refer to people who have horse(s) in their life as "guardians" and not as "owners". However, in this situation, I do believe the appropriate term to use is "owner". Sadly.)