I went down to the barn this morning like always to feed our critters but my boy Shiloh was gone. He died, apparently peacefully, overnight in his stall. I wish I could stop crying. He was 17 and he was beautiful.
I am so, so sorry to hear about your loss. He was a beautiful boy and from the pictures it looks like you raised him for the majority of those 17 years. Did he have health problems leading up to this or was it out of the blue? 
Oh geez. I’m so sorry. At seventeen, you still expect them to be around and kicking for several more years, at least.
I’m sorry about your boy. 17 isn’t old, but I’m glad he went peacefully. Horses have a way of getting into your soul–my guy is 23 and I can’t imagine life without him.
I am sorry to hear of your loss. Sending supporting thoughts your way.
I’m sorry for your loss. I lost my mare (and her foal) to cancer. It sucks.
StG
Hey buddy, my wife and I used to drive back up 70 east from GJ through the canyon to that dirt road north that takes you to the top of the Book Cliffs and watch the wild horses run. We never did get tired of that and I’m sure a bunch are still around. Could probably even see your place from there.
Sorry for what you’re feeling right now. Hang tough.
What a beautiful horse! What type of coat is that, with the red brown body and the black stockings? Chestnut? Bay?
I haven’t spent much time with horses, but the little I’ve had, I greatly enjoyed. Wonderful critters!
I absolutely love the first picture, it gave me the impression of strength.
My condolances, El Cid Viscoso. Know that a lot of us understand and share what you’re going through.
Condolences from here, too. He looks like a lovely boy. If you can, take some comfort in knowing that he lived well with you and went peacefully.
Oh, he was beautiful. I’m sorry.
What a beautiful horse!
I am very sorry for your loss.
What a stunning horse he was. Those photos are magnificent. I’m so sorry that he is gone.
I am so sorry for your loss. I lost my “heart” horse last summer in a freak pasture accident, and it took a long time to be able to look at pictures of him and smile.
[hijack]
Phouka, Shiloh would be considered bay, having a dark brown body and black “points” (mane, tail, ears, lower legs, nose). A chestnut has “points” that are the same color, or a slight tint, as their body.
These horses can appear black but have some small areas of brown, such as on the side of their muzzle, when shed out. In most breeds, dark bay horses are much more common than truly black horses. Exceptions are Friesians, which are almost always black, and draft horses such as Shires.
Here is the Piko pony (pony! ha! I get on him from the fence), who is dark bay. These horses can appear black but have some small areas of brown, such as on the side of their muzzle, when shed out. In most breeds, dark bay horses are much more common than truly black horses. Exceptions are Friesians, which are almost always black, and draft horses such as Shires.
William, RIP, the big Irish beastie, was a bay, albeit unusually light in color for the US (he was imported from Ireland before my friend bought him).
Phinny, another friend’s horse (that’s me on top a few years ago), is a gleaming chestnut with “lots of chrome”, or 3 white socks and a white blaze on his face. The photo is coming out dark on my computer for some reason, but he is the color of a newly minted penny.
I would call it “blood bay.” “Bay” is any combination of brown body/black mane & tail, but blood bay refers to a deep red chestnut on the body.
He really was gorgeous, am I am so sorry for your loss. My mare (the “real” Hello Again) passed away in her pasture a sunny February afternoon in 2004. I still miss her all the time, but treasure my memories. Thank you for sharing your pictures of El Cid. I know he will be missed, but never forgotten.
He was a beautiful boy. I’m so sorry.
Thank you so much everybody. It really means a lot to hear from you. I just finished the evening feed after a day of “arrangements.” His body left the ranch at 3 p.m. with my friend Mel. And then there were five. It was truly sudden.
An old friend said “the hard thing about animals is you’ll probably outlive them.” What we get from them after they’re gone is just as important. Tonight his daughter lingered at my face and we breathed (I sobbed) together for some time. Then she went and ate.
That should be “tonight Shiloh’s daughter Summer lingered at my face . . . Then she went and ate.” Oy.
Now I’m going to go eat.
Sorry for your loss…
After a pretty sour night’s sleep I went down to the barn this morning and everything’s pretty much how I left it last night. Five horses hoof-side down, three kitties tail-side up. I spent a little time raking over the barn-aisle drag marks and putting away my tractor. It’s funny how everyday actions become imbued with stark finality at a time like this.
I was blessed with Shiloh almost 10 years ago when his owners, my wife’s family, were about to give him up. He was too big, too imposing, too powerful and everybody said he was trouble. Always a fan of the underdog, I loved him immediately. Little by little we figured it out and for the first time in his life he bonded with a man.
Shiloh was a reluctant mode of transportation but he thoroughly enjoyed work. His energy was limitless.
My good friend lieu is right on the money; should I ever look for another horse I’ll start at the wild herds on the Bookcliffs. After all if I were Shiloh, that’s where I would go.