The Moon

I was quite sore on Monday from my expedition with Shadow, telling people at work about my exciting ride. I always felt like a little girl when I talked about my horse, perhaps because the little girl who asked for a white cowgirl suit with white leather boots each Christmas is still inside. That evening, as I was feeding, I stood with Shadow for a while in the barn. I stroked her mane and kissed her nose as usual, and told her how pretty she was, especially her strong legs. As I was walking out, I turned back to look at all the animals and Shadow was looking at me. I walked back in and climbed over the gate to give her one more kiss and hug, and to tell her once again how much I loved her. Then I walked home with the joy and comfort in my heart that she and the other animals bring me.

When I came in the house, I added a few logs to the fire because it was one of the most frigid weeks we’d had since spring. I noticed the moon rising over the trees along the ridge behind the barn. I was pulled to the presence of the moon, feeling a sense of awe at the size and brightness of the object. When Danny came in from work, I asked him if he’d seen the moon. Of course he had, it was hard to notice that evening. We discussed how weird things happen on full moons, with both people and animals. The next morning, as I followed my routine in feeding the cats and stoking the fire, I commented to Bo and Luke how bright the moon was shining into the kitchen. Quickly after, the eerie feeling the moon had brought me the night before began to make sense to me.

The phone rang around 6:45am. We assumed it was one of Danny’s guys calling about work. How I wish it was, but instead it was the dispatcher’s office calling to tell us that one of our horses had been killed on Buck Mountain Road. No, that couldn’t be right, not our horses. Our horses are in the barn, as usual, waiting on their grain. I ran half-dressed, as I was getting ready for work, to the barn only to find that it was empty, and my stomach immediately tied itself into a knot. Danny could tell by the look on my face that they were not in their usual spots. We decided that I would go on to identify the horse while he finished feeding the other animals. On the way, our friend Dave called me to let me know that it was Shadow that was killed, although I knew in my heart and gut all along that it would be my dear horse. I started imagining the worst possible scenario so the reality wouldn’t shock me as bad. It didn’t help, because I physically felt my heart break when I saw my horse lying on the side of the road, lifeless and broken.

It was the first time I’d ever seen her lie down because she was always so alert and frisky. She was full of life and spirit, and a Chevrolet truck had taken it away in just a matter of seconds. All the dreams I had with this horse quickly vanished, as I ran to the ditch to do nothing other than just sit next to her and pet her nose and cry over the loss of my first horse. Friends quickly arrived to help us handle the situation, leading the other horses home and providing the necessary equipment to load her on a trailer and take my baby home. Apparently, all four horses had gone up to the corner ridge of the property, a place they only traveled to if we were on their backs. Whomever went through the gate last, probably on a four-wheeler, had left it open. The horses made their way down the mountain out on the road, where the accident occurred. Why they were there will remain a mystery, although I speculate something wild spooked the horses and made them run up the mountain and off our property. The horses had not been out in over two years, so I see no reason as to why they were that morning, unless something forced them to do so.

Regardless of the reason, Shadow was hit by a young man we hear was late for work and didn’t bother to allow his windshield to thaw. Danny and I had talked the next day after my ride about putting Shadow and the little colt we had off another mare in the lower pasture across the road. Shadow took up time with this little guy, “showing him the ropes”. He adored her, so we felt they’d be good in a separate pasture while he was weaned off his mother. We decided we would do it the upcoming weekend when we had more time. Just two days after deciding to put Shadow in the lower pasture, we did just that, except it was without her little buddy, the colt that had grown to adore her. We laid her to rest in the lower pasture on December 5 around noon. Ironically, it was the same hole we had dug for our cow, Georgia, which mysteriously died in September. We did not bury her because we opted to have an autopsy done to determine her cause of death. But, in my heart, both of my precious animals will always be remembered in that spot.