2003-2024

Red Dun
 

Jaz Poco Goldun Blue

X

Doryaires Poco Koko

(by Poco Diego 007)
 

I've known for quite some time that this day and this deed were coming, and that it was my job to do it. However, I've struggled with this one, both in my head and my heart. Before my struggles though, I'll tell you ol' Zoey's story.

Years ago, mom and I ended up with the old stallion CE POCO CARA BLANCA, Zoey's sire, and I'll bet you can find his story if you put his name in the search bar. He was a fine old gentleman horse who found his way to us, and we were glad to have him. Soon after we announced his joining our program here, a lady called my mother and asked if she wanted a good daughter of his. Of course, mom said no, but they talked a while longer and it became clear that these good folks were retiring from the breeding business and really wanted us to have the mare. They agreed on a delivered price, which we know now was a song, and Zoey came to live with us. Despite mom having said no originally, she became quite fond of Zoey and was often found just hanging out with her, scratchin' and lovin' on her as they formed a Mutual Admiration Society. Zoey's first foal by Winston was a red filly and then she had a bunch of red dun fillies in a row, for so long that it was just what we expected, even though the odds were against it. We even kept one of her fillies who is now a mare in our program, earning her keep by having her own foals. Zoey's last colt was the red dun Raffle Colt we had this year in 2024, which benefitted the local Community Hall.

Zoey was a steady-eddy of the brood mare band. Never traveling far fast, she was always there to bring the energy down and keep things quiet. I appreciated the solid foundation build she added to the program, but mostly I appreciated her easy going nature. I've had mares I liked better, but not a lot.

Now I'm going to tell you about the not so glamorous part of life on the horse ranch. Ol' Zoey came to us having had an old injury where she'd been caught in a closing gate and so she had scars and muscle depletion on both sides of her body, behind the front legs. It made her slow moving and a little bit "off" in her movement. This last year it had gotten quite a bit worse, and so I didn't put her back out to pasture to be re-bred, we just kept her at home and let her have less distance to travel between grass and water. I knew it was something I'd have to face "later" and for the summer & fall, I didn't think about it much.

The signs have been showing themselves more the last couple of weeks. She'd been moving less, and when she did it was with more pain. It was getting harder for her to get back to water when she went out to join the others for hay. Having the benefit of having seen and sensed horses through all life's ages and stages, I can sense a little change in the way their eyes look... in the way they carry themselves... in the tenseness of their skin, and the way they hold their mouth. For so many reasons, because Zoey had been so good to us in her production over the years, and because my mother loved her, and because there's getting to be so few animals now who knew her and are still here with me and my family - it makes it harder in my heart to do what I know I must.

But - today was the day that ol' Zoey just told me she'd just had enough. I went, by myself as I usually do, and she and I took a long enough walk down into a ne'er used coulee where she got to eat some oats and have me brush her and talk to her and coo over her like my mother did. Somehow, this time just before death holds an intimacy I can't explain; there's something about caring and grief and seeing an animal in your care through to the very end!! And the finality of it that I can only call intimate. I told her what a good ol' gal she was and we communed about her time on the Fleetwood ranch, her foals, and how she'd go and mom would be there waiting for her.

Then I put her down.

And that was it for ol Zoey, she didn't know anything other than that I was being kind to her. Hard for me, not so much for her. I had considered all the other options for this grand old matron, and came up that this one was the kindest. It pulled on my heart strings and caused distress in my head to have to make this decision for her, even knowing it was best. And it was my job to do - to see her through, all the way through, as her keeper. My last prayer was to mom to be ready to receive one more up there with her, and I'll bet she was already waiting.

After all, she's the one who taught me.