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01/28/2003: "Transitions"
“The only sure thing is change,” as the old saying goes. And, I suppose it’s true - comforting when you’re in a bad situation, not so comforting when you desperately want to keep the status quo. No creature lives forever of course, and horses have very long life spans compared to cats and dogs. Still, their lives are regrettably shorter than a human’s. Even though we know this going in, the time is always too short and the grief overwhelming. Still, life must go on…
I rode DJ within the week after I bought him. I’ve had Indy since May and haven’t ridden him yet. Sure, there have been “circumstances.” I wanted to give him time to settle in, and then he had all those castration complications that nearly cost him his life and cost us at least three months of time. I was at the point of saddling and bridling him - and even putting some weight in the stirrup - when I realized DJ’s girth was never going to work for Indy. Because of the unusual way my saddle is rigged, I had a problem finding the kind of girth I wanted in a short enough length. By the time I got the girth, it was winter and bitterly cold.
Yes, there were all those things. But there was also me - who hadn’t ridden another horse in 20 years; who had cried all day at the very thought of never riding DJ again. I needed time. Time to make the mental transition before I could attempt the physical transition of actually sitting on Indy.
I’ve been trying to figure out why the transition FROM DJ has been so much more difficult that the transition TO DJ. DJ was my second horse after all, and I loved my first horse SO much…
I was one of those kids who was born with a big, gaping hole in their heart that only a horse could fill. I was 33 before I managed to fill that void. His name was Sirron. He was a coal black 15.1h Quarter Horse. He was 16 when I bought him, but you would never have guessed it. He was as fit and frisky as a youngster - except he was well trained and new how to take care of a timid adult novice. Everyone who’d ever known him thought he was exceptional, and he surely was. He taught me to ride. We did everything. He was truly a dream come true, and God, I loved him.
We had a precious five years together before the unthinkable happened. A routine Coggins test came up positive. We thought it MUST be a lab error because Sirron had NEVER shown ANY signs of illness, but it was not. We ran three more tests, and they all came back the same. I had two choices: life long quarantine or euthanasia. Actually, since I boarded him, I didn’t have two choices. I only had one…
One of my friends at the stable managed to give me that other choice. He had a friend who had a remote cattle ranch in west Texas. He was willing to take Sirron and let him live out his life there. My friend assured me that Sirron would be well taken care of. I would still lose Sirron, but he would be alive and certainly, HE would be very happy.
The more I think about it, the more certain I am that this is the reason I could go ahead and ride and enjoy DJ so much sooner than I’ve been able to with Indy. Sirron was ALIVE. Sure, I missed him - terribly - but I knew HE was happy, and that made all the difference in the world. No matter how much I assure myself that DJ is happy where HE is now too, it’s not the same.
There is the time period involved as well. I loved Sirron as much as it’s possible for me to love, but I only had him for 5 years, and I had DJ for 20. That HAS to make a difference. That’s a big chunk of my life, suddenly empty. SO empty.
But it will work out. During this time, Indy and I have been establishing a relationship, so it’s hardly time wasted. Indy is SO darling - so sweet and funny. Every day I can feel him burrowing deeper and deeper into my heart. Soon, spring will be here, and we’ll be riding. I have NO doubt that he will be a wonderful partner. He won’t be DJ, and that will hurt, especially at first. But, the day will come when it will be okay not to be DJ. He will be Indy, and that will be MORE than enough.
I love you, Indy.
