We had to put my namesake, the spavined gelding, down tonight. He was a good stout old style bulldog quarter horse with out pretence to a pedigree, a red sorrel, about 15 hands, no face marks and a sock on his left hind foot. A good solid saddle horse, willing and with good manners. Both our daughters learned to ride with him and both girls took him to the county fair and 4-H camp. His name was Rocky. We have had him for just 20 years and he was probably about 30 years old. For the last few years he has been going down in condition. It has been a struggle to keep him in good flesh even though he has been fed grain year round. He had also gone lame in his left hind leg, thus “the spavined gelding.”
When I came home tonight he was standing alone, away from the other horses, dangling his hind leg but not in obvious discomfort. When I whistled the horses in for evening feed he did not move. When I checked him it was clear that he did not want to take weight on his bad leg. When I lifted his foot I heard the bones crack and grate in his hip. His hip was broken. There was no obvious sign of trauma. It may have broken spontaneously, like and old lady with osteoporosis. In view of the bad leg this is the mostly likely explanation.
In any event there was nothing to do but put him down. The is no healing a broken boned horse. Sooner rather than later he would go into shock. I couldn’t shoot him. That would be too much like “Old Shep.” I called the vet and a friend with an end loader. The vet confirmed my finding, gave him and injection and it was over. We buried him in the barnyard where he lay.
The girls did not take it well when I called them and neither did my wife. They were pretty upset, and frankly I have a bellyache. This, however, is one of the responsibilities that come with owning animals. You have a duty to treat them decently during live and when the end comes a duty to make sure they go out with as little pain and struggle as is possible. He was a good using horse and I’ll miss him.
He was a long-time friend of the famiy, it seems, and helped raise your children in a way. Perhaps I’m a softie, but I see pets as part of the family…the grief must be very painful.