How do you say goodbye?

On January 2nd 2010 HJC had a video day. All of our volunteers and students came out to film the skills they had learned at HJC. All of our horses were in attendance.

Our oldest man Taxi given to us to enjoy retirement and his golden years came in to greet the students but seemed quite unsteady on his feet. We put him in a stall for most of the day with soft hay and water which he seemed quite content to munch on while receiving cuddles from young horse crazy girls.

That night Taxi stayed in so I could keep an eye on him, I was worried that his unsteadiness may have been the start of some neurological problems.

A wind storm that had been predicted knocked out the power and as it came back on I could hear a crash downstairs in the barn. It was midnight and the wind was howling. The way Taxi had gone down was blocking the entrance into the barn - and from what I could see of him he looked as though he were already dead.

When you live alone and you're faced with a job that requires a certain amount of man power to deal with, you're very lucky if your dad lives just up the road. Lucky for me, not so much for him.

We got the door open wide enough for me to slip into the stall and get a proper look at my old man, he was down and looked quite defeated. I don't know how to describe the look a horse gets in their eyes, whether they are cast in a stall or under severe distress... it's like they know this is the end. My herd was in the arena, all eyes and ears perked in Taxi's direction.... they knew too. It took me longer to come to the same conclusion. I willed him for hours to fight and he looked back at me with the same tired old kind eyes, patient with me just as he was patient with all of the small children he had taught to ride. I finally caught up.

Making the decision is a necessary evil. I held his head as the needle slid into his vein, petting the fur so many had trying to let this part of my family know how loved he was. It was so peaceful. He exhaled his last breath and the vet who had been so kind closed his eyes for me. Taxi was gone.

I'll not talk about the hell and indignity that followed, taking a loved friend out of the barn in Canadian January, but I can say that it is the worst moment I've had in the horse business and ranks up there with worst days of my life.

So I began to make the phone calls to little girls all over the Island who had to know their best horse friend who had taught them so much was no longer with us. Over the next week cards and sweet words of support came in from all over. 9 year old children concerned for the other horses now that Taxi was gone. Wanting the contact so they could soothe away the pain the others must be feeling.

What I will take away from this experience most is how deeply these animals have the chance to touch us all in short periods of time. Taxi touched the people who worked with him and we should never forget what that contact means to people. The relationship formed between an animal and a person is deep even if only for an hour or two a week - Taxi touched lives.

I'll always be grateful for that.