Honoring My Sassy Mare Companion

Honoring My Sassy Mare Companion

A horse owner’s nightmare...

It was a Monday morning when my daughter Hannah called to tell me that Peanut Butter was having trouble. Hannah had been walking her – dragging her, actually – around the paddock for twenty minutes, but my horse of fourteen years just wanted to lay down and roll.

I held my voice steady as I asked Hannah questions, then told her I would call the vet and head out to the ranch, which was thirty minutes away.

I took a quick shower, jumped into my barn clothes, and carefully backed out the driveway. It was a beautiful sunny Colorado morning. As I drove down the highway, I had to remind myself to breathe. I repeatedly expressed gratitude to my Angels and God for carrying us all, for giving us strength and courage, for holding us in the light, and for dispelling our fear.

I took over for Hannah when I got there, walking Peanut Butter, keeping her from going down. When the vet arrived we brought Peanut Butter into her stall so she could be examined and given fluids. After delivering the devastating diagnosis – colic – the vet intravenously administered Banamine, a drug that would help alleviate her pain and stress.

Colic is an insidious condition in horses. It can cause great pain and discomfort while affecting the integrity of their gastrointestinal tract. The anatomy of a horse is really not conducive to effective digestion. Digested food leaving the stomach enters the intestine which makes a loop folding back in the opposite direction before continuing on with its coil of sixty feet.

Colic forces the horses’ digestive system to back up; food becomes impacted, the impacted intestine restricts and begins to twist. The blood supply to the intestine becomes cut off, causing that section, or sections, of the intestine to die.

Most common causes of colic are an abrupt change in food, moldy or tainted food, ingesting sand, not enough water consumption, stress or a drastic shift in weather.

Some of the signs of colic are pawing, rolling, bloating, stress, uneasiness, absence of gut sounds, and the loss of interest in food and water.

When colic is caught early there are treatments that can usually relieve the discomfort and support the impaction to move through and pass. Some horses are candidates for colic surgery, though it is invasive, very expensive, and requires lengthy stall recovery. For many horses, however, colic progresses so rapidly that the damage is too great for them to recover.

It took me over an hour to locate someone available with a horse trailer to transport Peanut Butter down the hill to Littleton Equine Medical Center. Though drugged and uncomfortable, my sweet mare willingly followed as I slowly led her to the back of the trailer. After just a hint of hesitation she stepped in. As I closed the trailer door I was consumed with a wretched heaviness.

I knew this was to be Peanut Butter’s last ride. I sensed too, she had already said goodbye to Blondie, our other horse, and to the ranch that she loved.

Celebrating my 50th…

Looking back, I realize that not only were Peanut Butter and I destined to meet but that she came into my Life at exactly the right time. It was the months leading up to my fiftieth birthday and I was reflecting, as I do each year, upon my Life to that point. I realized that this milestone actually felt quite significant, so I looked within to see how I wanted to celebrate me. I clearly received a message to gift myself with a new horse partner.

Wow, what a bold idea! Being a horse owner is a huge, long-term commitment, both in terms of time and the money it takes to finance their care, training and shelter/board. This is no deterrent, however, for one who knows that there is nothing more sacred, gratifying, and fun than traveling in relationship with a horse.

It was so fitting that my mother accompanied me on my equine search. Mom was raised on an Illinois farm and had always loved horses. She’d also convinced my dad to let me get my first horse, Ginger, when I was twelve. Preliminary online research had led us to videos of some horses, then to the ranch south of Denver where they lived. As Mom and I headed to the ranch, we were both filled with excitement at the prospect of meeting these horses, with their unique movements and personalities, and hopefully to meet the horse meant just for me.

Mom set up camp on the porch of one of the ranch outbuildings. She sat in a rough chair and had her book to keep her company as I paraded back and forth on the various horses I was “trying out.”

The two geldings I rode were nice enough, but I was looking for a horse with a fiery yet gentle spirit, a horse who was feisty, fast and ready for adventure, a horse who could make my heart soar!

“What about Peanut Butter?” Mom asked, and something inside me quickened.

Peanut Butter was a five-year-old mare, registered half-Arabian, half-Quarter horse. She was a beautiful chestnut with a gorgeous Arab head and large expressive eyes. I was enchanted by her energy and grace, yet I also felt a bit threatened and small in the shadow of her presence. Mom was convinced she could be the one I was searching for.

I ran my hand down the side of Peanut Butter’s leg to ask for her foot so I could pick her hoof. She gave me her foot and at the same time turned her head around to assess me. I worked quietly as I introduced myself, picking her feet, brushing her hair, and combing her mane.

Several times she and I connected, both of us conveying curiosity as well as caution.

The first time I mounted her and sat in the saddle I noticed how slender her barrel was between my legs. I felt her electrified energy pulsing in anticipation underneath me.
I felt absolutely exhilarated. She made me feel alive!

 Flanked by two horses ridden by ranch hands, Peanut Butter and I rode out over the bridge. As we rounded the ditch bend, I saw the dirt road in front of us rise up to the top of a bluff.

As the three horses trotted in unison at the base of the hill, I suddenly sensed Peanut Butter’s anxious impulse to break free and run. I felt a flash of panic, then something incredible happened – I let go! Like a bullet she exploded forward, moving with such grace, power, and speed. Focusing on my breath, I released my resistance. We moved up the hill like a flash leaving the other two riders stunned and their horses in a cloud of dust.

Out in front I relaxed, giving Peanut Butter her head and relinquishing any control I might have had. We moved rhythmically in sync, scaling the top of the bluff with ease.

Somehow, I came back to earth to skillfully rein her in, having her make circles and finally come to a stop. Alone on top of the bluff, Peanut Butter and I stood as one, heaving breaths and snorting.

Eventually she allowed me to move her back down the hill at a pace at which I could recover.

I leaned forward with my hands on her neck and spoke quietly when I asked her if she wanted to come home with me. She clearly responded in a way I could hear. Not only had I chosen Peanut Butter as my new partner, she had chosen me as well.

Lessons from the heart…

As I said earlier, Peanut Butter came into my Life exactly when I needed her. In addition to it being the advent of my fiftieth birthday, it was also the summer before Hannah started eighth grade and an especially tumultuous period as she negotiated her adolescent identity. Though our relationship was still challenging, we found we connected over our love of horses.

 Peanut Butter came to teach me important Life lessons about boundaries, myself and relationships. She reflected in her behavior my attitudes and emotions. I often had to shift my perspective to see what I was offering that Peanut Butter was acting out. Many times she reminded me that I was pushing and controlling in asking for what I wanted.

She also emulated my daughter’s obstinate creative spirit. Like Hannah, Peanut Butter was so darn smart and clearly independent in choosing how and when to cooperate. She’d argue my decision to cross an old suspended bridge when the ground below was easily traversed. And when it came to crossing water, she’d cleverly maneuver around it or jump it every time.

Peanut Butter’s acute hearing and smell were always the first to alert us of something on the trail. Given her head, she could pick through any footing, leading the other horses on the safest route.

Over the years I spent hours grooming Peanut Butter. It was one of our favorite times of sharing.

I would groom every inch of her body, stroking, brushing, detangling her mane and tail. This process somehow smoothed out the messiness of Life and soothed my own needy energy to rush.

In her focused singleness of purpose, I learned to allow myself to just be, soak in the gifts of the present moment, and savor the knowledge of being enough…

I spent several hours this early evening out at the barn with Peanut Butter. There is something so calming, so grounding about grooming her, allowing her to graze on the new spring grass and watching her just be a horse, content, present, massive yet gentle.

This evening was especially reflective for me. Our daughter, Hannah, graduated from college this morning. Her father and I, her Aunt Lynnie, and boyfriend Shaun all joined her to witness and celebrate this great achievement. Both my sister and I cried, missing Mom and Dad, knowing how proud they would have been.

As I finished combing out Peanut Butter’s tail and scraping the dried mud off her back legs, I stood upright and leaned into her, placing my arm over the top of her back, feeling her body.

I spoke with my Angels and asked for clarity and creativity; to be accepting and at ease with myself and the rhythm of my Life. Slowly I positioned Peanut Butter along the inside rails of the round pen. Then with the flexibility I’ve had since I was a kid, I slid my leg over her back and hopped on bareback.

We rode along together for about twenty minutes, leg yielding, spiraling inward one direction, then the other. Together we glided quietly around the pen as deer picked their way through the pasture below and her herd, stood quietly in the early evening dusk.

This is heaven, I thought.

And I heard my mother say, “Yes, it is Jani. It is heaven on Earth.”

Life cycles forward...

We moved Peanut Butter and Blondie to our ranch three years ago last August. For Hannah and me, it was the realization of a shared dream of being able to care for our horses at home. Hannah immediately took responsibility for the morning feed, which she did before work, including in winter when she had to brave subzero weather and use a flashlight to navigate the darkness.

Peanut Butter and Blondie settled into their new home and routine, and the four of us were thrilled to be able to ride in the neighborhood and around our property. We made big plans for all the rides we were going to take. And all the while I denied my growing awareness that Peanut Butter was slowing down. It wasn’t until that awful Monday morning that I was forced to face the truth.

It’s been almost eighteen months since my precious Peanut Butter left this world for a higher path. And though I accept that her physical Life is over I am still able to travel with her in so many ways. Even so, I felt it was important to have a piece of her here in the physical world.

Her ashes rest in a beautiful cherry wood box at home under her saddle stand in the tack room.

Peanut Butter, you have been – and continue to be – my sassy mare companion and my sweet spirited, sensitive friend. I will love you always…

💜 Today marks 3 years since my Peanut Butter transitioned to greater pastures.