Many of you already know, but for those who don't, much has happened over the last 12 months. I have not blogged much, but did tell you all about my blessed Karly (with a K). Unfortunately, on Saturday, March 13 - just two days before I had surgery to repair a torn rotator cuff - Karly died. She was a young and tender 13.
I got the dreaded call...."R, Karly is down. Hurry up and get here". I ran~ I was there in about 4 minutes...about as long as it took me to throw on my mucking boots and rain coat and speed there. It was POURING rain for the third day in a row and bitter cold. When I got there, there was only the barn owner's 18 year old son, Justin, keeping Karly on her feet. I took over. However, she was throwing me around - literally - like a rag doll. My sister Terri, Raechyl and I did our best to keep her on her feet. She would pull me anywhere she wanted while I desperately tried to keep her on her feet. 2000 pounds versus 140 pounds - you do the math. It was NOT pretty. You can't let a colicking horse go down...you walk them and walk them to prevent them from going down. This went on for over an hour until the owner and help arrived. The vet was not far behind. We had SO much medicine on board that she should have been paralyzed, but the pain was so intense it barely affected her. We had no choice but to race her to the hospital.
In the end, Karly lost the battle at nearly 9 pm that evening. It is something I could never describe to anyone what it is like to see a 2 ton creature that 6 hours ago was lively and fine covered in mud (my white horse) from head to toe, writhing in pain, unable to stand, lose the battle of her life. The 2000 pound nearly 19 hand beautiful white Karly staring me in the eye on the floor of the stall in the hospital begging me to make the pain stop....and I could do NOTHING but watch. I prayed, we medicated her with enough medication to put four horses out of pain and she still writhed in pain until she could finally take no more. And at about 9 pm that evening, she died.
She was my first horse. Yes, I have Buddy, but he is leased and isn't technically mine though we are all he knows...Karly and I took months, hours each and every day to build a friendship...a relationship where she could trust me. One where, in the end, she would come the minute she saw me in the pasture. One where she trusted me, and I trusted her. One where she knew I was hers, and she mine. One that, unfortunately, ended before it began. My Karly...gone.
I had her cremated. She is now in my living room, a small token of the first horse I ever actually owned...the first one I took the time each day with to build a trusting friendship that was give and take. She gave love like no other horse I know. Her giant black eyes. She would put her nostril up to my mouth to smell my breath...she would inhale long and stare right into my eyes as if to say, "Yup, it's you allright. The one I trust". I cut her mane that night. I have the braid on her box of ashes with a frame and three pictures of me and her. Me and my Karly.
Karly never did get to come home. Now, I look out back at my new house and see the barn that Karly should have called home. I see the pasture out side my house that Karly should be in. But the Lord did not see fit for that to be. I have learned these recent days that I must trust in the Lord. His plans are best. So for now, I have only a braid, a box and a frame to look at, but inside I have the love of a giant gently draft horse that changed this girls life forever.
My Karly....She is very sorely missed.
Until next time...
