A Natural Goodbye
by Robin Davis
The spring day dawned clear, calm and sunny over our Colorado ranch, Mustang Hollow. The sun was a
welcome break from the cloudy and windy days we had recently experienced. As I walked toward the horses, a couple of them nickered at me in anticipation of their morning food. I scanned the paddocks to make sure everyone was doing well. Most of them were quietly, soaking up the sun with eyes closed, a few were watching my progress with impatience.
I gave them all a “good morning” and opened up the hay area so they could enter for a morning munch. I then switched my attention to the Arabian mare named Gypsy. She looked to be enjoying the sun warming her body.
Gypsy was one of our long term boarders. At 25 years old, she had been with us for 8 years and was always a lively and beautiful horse. She had recently been diagnosed with an inoperable fatty tumor that was blocking her small intestine. At this point we were doing all we could to keep her comfortable and feeling like she was still part of the herd until she decided to give up the fight.
At Mustang Hollow we do holistic horsekeeping on 80 acres in the plains of northern Colorado. We host a herd of 15 horses of all shapes, ages and sizes. Our complementary care includes whole foods nutrition, herbal supplements, homeopathy, and acupressure treatments among others. This along with the way the horses are allowed free choice grass hay, and given plenty of chance to move about on the entire acreage generally finds the entire herd in a very happy and healthy state through even the worst of storms.
This spring morning found Gypsy looking fairly comfortable and relaxed. I greeted her and offered her some warm water and a warm beet pulp mash. Even though she looked more comfortable than she had most of the previous week she refused both food and water. “Aren’t you feeling like eating this morning, Gypsy,” I asked.
Even with the blockage and the pain she had to be enduring, her appetite had been pretty good over the week. Her lack of interest in both food and water this morning had me a little concerned. I hoped that her morning dose of pain medicine would encourage her to eat. I administered
the medicine and placed the food and water in front of her where she could easily reach it. After spending some quiet time with her, I left her to enjoy the sun and to allow the pain medication to kick in while I continued my morning chores.
By noon, Gypsy’s look of sun worshiping comfort had changed dramatically. I went into her paddock and ran my hands over her body. It was quite obvious that the pain medication was not doing much of anything for her this day. She still had not eaten nor drunk anything and her abdominal muscles were very tight. She was just beginning to break into a cold sweat. It was beginning to look like Gypsy might be ready to leave this world on this beautiful spring day.
Gypsy’s owners had wanted to give her every chance to recover on her own if it was meant to be. Euthanizing her before she was absolutely ready was not an option. They had discussed my willingness to support them in hospice care for the mare, and I agreed to honor the journey that Gypsy was on.
Standing next to Gypsy, I called her owner, Stephanie. Stephanie had purchased Gypsy 8 years ago, this was her first horse. Stephanie had had the dream of owning her own horse ever since she had taken riding lessons while she was in college more than 20 years before. Her lifestyle of small business owner and mother of 3 made her put off the joy of horse ownership for many years. She was thrilled when she was finally able to have a horse of her own.
Gypsy was her dream horse.
Devin, Stephanie’s 9 year old son, had been looking forward to using Gypsy as his 4-H horse that year. The week of Gypsy’s illness and now her imminent death was very difficult for these two.
As I shared what I was seeing, Stephanie agreed that is was time to call the veterinarian. She said she would be right out after she pulled Devin out of school early. He wanted to be involved with all the decisions for his 4-H horse and Stephanie wanted to make sure they could all be together if it was time to say goodbye.
Stephanie, Devin and the Veterinarian all arrived at about the same time. After a brief examination, it was agreed that it was time to help Gypsy pass on. Her heart rate was rapid from the pain, her breathing was shallow and her responses were minimal at best. Stephanie and Devin said their final goodbye’s and thank you’s before Gypsy was euthanized at approximately 4:30pm on March 11, 2009.
After the vet left, we all gathered around Gypsy’s body and began honoring her memories amongst ourselves. Stephanie shared many special moments. This first horse of hers left an indelible mark on her heart.
When it was time, we began to discuss the logistics of what to do with the body. We knew that we would not be able to take her body to the crematory that evening because of the late hour, not to mention I wanted to allow any of the horses who might need to, the opportunity to see her before we just hauled her away.
We were in no way prepared for what happened next.
We had closed off the paddock where Gypsy was to afford us privacy for the exam and subsequent euthanization. When I went around and opened the paddock gate, Soleil, a big black thoroughbred, drifted in right away. His curious nature and genuine like of people seemed to draw him almost immediately. Soleil has only been at Mustang Hollow since the first part of December and was still feeling his way around about fitting into the herd. He had been kept in a large pasture with only one horse just before coming here, and before that was always stalled separately.
Soleil approached us to say hello until he noticed Gypsy lying on the bed of straw just inside the shelter. He approached the body with his head low. It was apparent that he knew something was very different about Gypsy.
He approached a little cautiously but also with enough sureness that he wasn’t jumpy. Once Soleil was able to put his nose to Gypsy’s, he looked a little confused. He then moved Gypsy’s lips and nose around with his own. When Gypsy’s lips were opened, Soleil breathed a large puff of air right into Gypsy’s mouth, and then once into her nose. When Gypsy did not respond, Soleil just stood and looked at her for a moment. Then he stomped his foot and squealed. He dropped his head to sniff Gypsy’s lifeless body once more.
We stood at a respectful distance to give him his space. After a short time, Soleil went back to the hay area to continue his dinner.
All of the remaining horses continued to eat for a few more minutes until I asked them to leave the hay for their night time grazing time on the pasture. Generally, when I ask the herd to leave the hay for the pasture, they gallop directly to the west so they can spend their time out in the back 40 acres. Not tonite. It was very clear that the routine was changed. As I sent the horses out, they filed in a very orderly manner in a path that took them right by the paddock in which Gypsy was lying, directly opposite of their normal path. I don’t know if they really had known that something was amiss, or if they were just curious about the different type of human activity that had been going on.
It was interesting to observe how this community of horses acted as they filed past. Much like in a human funeral during the viewing, some kept their heads straight ahead but walked more slowly by the body. Some kept walking but turned to look. A few stopped for a brief moment and looked but did not approach.
This organized and respectful parade had such a different feel to it, we humans just stood out of the way to see what they would do next.
After the entire herd paraded by, three mares went directly into the paddock to see Gypsy. Our 26 year old retired school mare, Cherry, Moka a 3.5 year old bay quarter horse filly and April an 11 year old grey mare.
Cherry and Gypsy had been the best of friends. Cherry went directly over to Gypsy without pausing while Moka and April followed a bit more hesitantly. Cherry lowered her head and blew into Gypsy’s mouth and nose just as Soleil had done. She looked at Gypsy’s lifeless face with curiosity. She then began rubbing her head up and down Gypsy’s neck.
Moka and April pricked their ears, stretched their necks and looked like they wanted to come over, but Cherry kept them back by pinning her ears and swinging her head at them. She seemed to want her private time with Gypsy. Once the other mares offered a bit more respectful space by backing up a couple of steps, Cherry went back to rubbing her entire face and neck on Gypsy’s lifeless neck.
We humans couldn’t help but dissolve into tears at the obvious respect and love these mares shared. The awe we were all feeling made us continue to give the horses their time and space by standing outside of the paddock in which Gypsy was lying.
Cherry finally stepped back a bit to allow Moka and April to come over together. Moka and April are very close and do everything that they can together. They both breathed into Gypsy’s nose and mouth together, paused, then stepped back a couple of steps to allow Cherry to move in closer again. All 3 of these mares then just stood with heads lowered over Gypsy’s body.
The rest of the herd had not wandered far. They had circled in a large circle and were drifitng slowly back in the general direction of the mares and Gypsy. Once they were all within about 20 yards of the scene, Windman, our big grey mustang who is without question the leader of this herd, walked with purpose directly into the paddock with the mares. He tossed his head with lowered ears at the mares. This sent them away so he could investigate.
Cherry, Moka and April moved back to a respectful distance. Windman approached Gypsy with his lowered head and purposefully began by moving her nose and lips with his own. He then began blowing into her mouth and nose. His blowing seemed to have much more purpose to it than what we had seen from the previous horses. He didn’t stop after only one or two breaths. He kept blowing for several minutes while the mares watched. It seemed almost ceremonial.
When the blowing ceremony was done, Windman then did something very startling, he threw up his head and galloped out of the paddock directly to the rest of the herd where they had all remained grazing on a patch of grass. Windman galloped right up to them, he then stopped suddenly and proceeded to toss his head in very interesting ways while he trotted in place. He did not vocalize anything that we could hear. After a couple of moments of this “dance,” Windman spun and galloped back to the fence line of the paddock where Gypsy’s body was lying. He stood at the fence and looked directly at her, then he looked back at the herd. A couple of the horses had moved a bit closer, but it was not enough for him.
Windman wheeled around and galloped back to the herd and did his head tossing “dance” again, before turning around and galloping back to the fence line where he again looked intently at Gypsy’s body. This seemed to finally receive the attention that he had wanted it to. The herd began walking with trepidation over to the paddock.
Our black lead mare, Auris, was the first to walk over and enter the paddock after Windman had seemingly called the community in. She was followed closely by Winter, an 8 year old Hafflinger. Auris and Winter approached together but then Auris pinned her ears and tossed her head at Winter. He stood back so she could have her look first. Auris sniffed and blew once into Gypsy’s mouth, she then moved over a couple of steps with her head lowered over Gypsy’s body to allow Winter to approach. Winter followed the same ritual as the others, he sniffed and lipped and blew at Gypsy’s mouth and nose.
Cherry, Moka and April all continued to keep watch from their nearby spot, allowing enough respectful distance to let the other horses approach but not willing to leave their friend.
The rest of the herd was by now filing in with respect and order. Senator, a 12 year old chestnut quarter horse, Lady, a 22 year old quarter horse, our black appaloosa, Sheba, Aria a 4 year old black mare, Cooper a 7 year old grey quarter horse, Annie, a 10 year old chestnut thoroughbred and Soleil. Each one took their turn to lip and smell and blow into Gypsy’s nose. There was no crowding or pushing. They each took a bit of time and allowed another to approach with respect. Some squealed, some stamped, some spent a lot of time, some spent as little time as it took for them to fully realize that Gypsy was gone. This entire scene went on for more than 2 hours.
We humans were so awestruck we seemed to be stuck in place until they finally began to drift out to graze for the night.
When the sun began to set and most of the horses had moved off to graze, we regained our voices and our ability to move, so we began discussing what to do for the night. We decided to put up some dog kennel panels to surround Gypsy while keeping her body safe from the coyotes.
Moka and April had by this time joined the rest of the herd on the pasture. Cherry continued to stay close and watched our efforts with interest. She was still not willing to leave her dear friend’s body.
After we had things secured, Stephanie and Devin went home to get some rest before they had to come back to help with taking Gypsy to the crematory in the morning.
My husband, Jay, and I continued to check on the scene all through the night. Generally, we would see a few of the horses near the enclosure where Gypsy was laid out. Near as we could tell Cherry never left and a sporadic rotation of different horses came and went. They seemed to be taking turns filtering in and spending time as they needed to.
In the breaking dawn of the next morning, we were surprised to see the entire herd gathered around the panels encircling Gypsy’s body. We approached with that continued state of awe that persisted through this entire experience. We took away the panels and each horse moved in closer to say a final goodbye by sniffing Gypsy one more time. No one blew in her nose this time, they seemed to just sniff her body with curiosity.
I opened the hay feeders so they all eventually drifted that way. Finally, Cherry drifted onto the hay with the others. They seemed to know that it was time to transition into normal life routines once again.
Stephanie, Devin, and Stephanie’s husband, Chris arrived bright and early. We were not bothered by any of the herd as we removed the body and took it away for cremation.
Not one of the horses called for Gypsy after she was gone. They had all had an opportunity to mourn and say goodbye in their own way.
This experience really helped me remember that our horse herds, no matter their make up, or their way of being kept, are community. They all know and respect one another. Many love one another. We feel very honored to have been a part of a horse funeral and to have had the opportunity to make this transition as natural and peaceful as possible for both horse and human.
In the photos below: Gypsy, Cherry, Cherry, Windman, Lady and Senator, Moka, Soleil, Auris
