HIGH RISE moves on.....
Forward: for background to this article- see my previous story titled A Bloody Miracle
The picture to the left is of High Rise and me on his last birthday celebration. Every year, we would have a theme and you can see from our outfits, what the theme of this party was!
Little did I know that July 9, 2009 would be the last time I would ride High Rise.
I got on his back and said “ I am on top of the world, who needs Everest when I can be here. This right here, right now, is the best place in the universe.” I thought things a long these lines every time I got on him, but that day I said it. Rides on High Rise were always good, always fun and oftentimes spectacular. That day turned out to be one of those spectacular rides. We did some dressage, and he just felt nicely put together, had nice suspension in his trot, and his canter was developing more and more jump. We popped over a couple of jumps and it was, as usual, a blast. My traditional thought about jumping him was this is so much fun it should be against the law. We finished the ride with some beautifully uphill balanced canter- walk- canter lead changes on the straightaway ending with a perfect halt. I hopped off him and praised him, told him what rock star he was, how much how I loved and gave him a kiss on his forehead and in on that special place on a horse, that little indentation on the side of their muzzle right above their lips. That has got to be the softest, sweetest place in the world. Walking back to the barn I told him again, “I love you so much, I know you know that but it just makes me feel good to say it.” I cooled him down, turned him loose and off he went galloping and bucking having a grand time. That day he got his routine acupuncture treatment, and spent the afternoon grazing with his friend Beamer.
That night I was out in the barn until 10 PM cleaning, and just making the barn neat and tidy. The horses came into the barn and just hung out with me for a while. All was well. In their presence was peace and contentment. As I left the barn I gave them each a treat, said good night and all was well with my world ….until the next morning.
The next morning High Rise was sick. It was clear that he needed help beyond what I could provide for him at home so I wasted no time getting him to Alamo Pintado Equine Medical Center. At first I thought he might be a surgical colic, something we all hate to think about. However, he was diagnosed with anterior enteritis, an inflammation of the proximal small intestine. All that could be done was aggressive intensive critical care, which is what he got.
For the first 48 hours he responded well, and it looked like he might be coming home with me in the next 24 hrs. On the third day, things started to deteriorate. On the fourth day he developed a fever and got progressively sicker. I was hoping that this might be as bad as it gets, and that given another 24 hours things would start to improve. I sat with him most of that day into the night, and my mantra was “you are big and strong and loved.” I kept repeating that anytime a negative thought would creep into my head. At 6AM on day 5 he seemed like he might be a little better. That glimmer of hope was short lived. Between 7:10 and 7:30 AM he went from a sick horse to a dying horse. The endotoxins from his inflamed gut had taken over and there was nothing left to be done. I had no choice but to him down. I thank God I was able to be there with him.
I was fortunate enough to be able to bring him home and lay him to rest in the only home he has ever known. That evening I went to his grave with my husband Carl, and had a glass of his favorite- raspberry beer- of all things. I poured the rest of the bottle over his gravesite and left the bottle where his headstone would be, a fitting tribute.
The next day Carl and I spent the day making him a lovely gravesite. We made up a planter with flowers, picked out a headstone and a magnolia tree. During the day I was thinking about how much time and energy I was spending on this. I thought this is crazy, but then I realized this is normal. It is my daily routine to spend most of my time and energy with my horses, or doing something that will ultimately benefit them, and hence me. This is what makes my world go around.
The next evening our friends Rod and Maggie came out to pay a tribute to High Rise. Rod has been treating High Rise with acupuncture every 5 weeks or so since he was a 3 year old. Maggie complements the acupuncture with a Reiki session at the end of each treatment. She often commented on how peaceful his energy was. I think she may have gotten more out of treating him then he did! Seemed like he would always make her smile. She would comment on the lovely purple and green colors she would see when she treated him. In fact, when she reikied his spirit after he died, she saw what she described as a beautiful ball of violet light that was so peaceful and joyous, that even then still made her smile.
We all went out to High Rise's grave, and toasted him with his second favorite, rasberry champagne. I poured the remainder of the bottle over his grave, and left it next to the beer bottle . Maggie gave me a lovely wooden box with some crystals in it, and an acupuncture needle that Rod had, left over from his days 25 years ago while learning under his master in Sri Lanka. She wrote a lovely poem for him to go along with the box of crystals.
Without High Rise there is an enormous emptiness in my soul. His presence brought me such joy, his absence such despair. I know that on some level he will always be with me. I just need to get used to what this new level is. Going to the barn which normally made me so happy, right now just feels terribly empty. Even though I cannot see that face, those eyes, that beautiful dappled grey color and that ginourmous ass, I have to believe his spirit is all around me. His color was such that many commented that it looked like he was covered in stars. We joked that he was his own galaxy. He was certainly vast enough both in spirit and stature to carry that off.
High Rise was fun, laughter, joy, birthday parties, extravagant costumes and love. I feel that our time together in this world was cut short for some unknown reason. I have to believe that it is not the length of time that we spend on this earth, but the quality of the time spent. That being the case, High Rise lived his life well, and if his purpose was come here to give me joy and love, then hid did a damn fine job. Our relationship was such that there are no regrets. How many times in life do we get to say that?
I miss everything about him so much that I can barely breathe. Time they say will make things better, and there will come a time when I can remember him and smile instead of cry. I just desperately do not want to forget what he felt like to touch, and how much fun he was to ride. He taught me so many things, one of which was how to be a better rider, and I was just now starting to get it figured out.
Because he was so big I often got pulled out of my place, so I really had to pay attention to staying in my place through transitions, not an easy task. I also just recently figured out how to sit his trot.... what a kick!! We also had come to a new place in our jumping. I was a little timid about jumping, but bless his heart, he never failed me. We had gotten to a new place where I had so much more confidence in myself, that now we were starting to just go for it. We had finally figured out the amount of energy and push we needed to float over a fence. It was just so much fun. He was, so easy, so uncomplicated, so much fun, Training him from the ground up was such an easy task. I would just ask for something and he always tried to oblige me. Yes, there were times that he could not do what I asked, either because he did not understand the question, or did not have the strength or tools to carry out my request, but he would always try. He always made me look and feel good. His headstone reads:
High Rise
Feb. 2, 2000- July 15, 2009
Your sense of fun, joy and love were bigger than you were.
You were magical.
You were, and always will be, simply the best.
Afterword: It has now been over 3 months since High Rise died. I still miss him terribly, and suspect I always will. I have been looking for a new horse, not an easy task. When I find that horse, I trust that what High Rise taught me will guide me in my new relationship. I do believe that when I find that horse, I will have a party to welcome him into my life. High Rise would like that!
|
