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MEMORIES
Blackie's gone now. He crossed the rainbow bridge on the first day of spring, 20 March 2003, and is waiting for us to join him on some far-off day.
This page, and any others that may follow, are my memories of my "old man". The lines are in no particular order, they're just the day-to-day things that people experience and file away, never to be remembered again. They came about through conversations with the wonderful people in the Hoofbeats-In-Heaven equine-loss support group. To those people, each learning to live without their own beloved children, my eternal gratitude.
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"Measure your life by loss instead of gain:
not by the wine drunk, but in the wine poured forth,
for love's strength stands in love's sacrifice;
and who suffers most has most to give"
Thankyou Jenna & Diamond
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Blackie was the first of our family to live in "the field". He was there, all by himself, for several weeks before any of the other horses moved in. The first thing he found was that there were cows in the field next door and they made pretty good companions. From that point on, he had a favorite spot - right next to them on his side of the fences.
Blue was Blackie's "tormentor" from the day they met. Blue's young and full of himself, Blackie was old and frail - the picture of poor health. As such, Blue never missed a chance to torment Blackie. And then came the day that the old man finally had enough, and shocked us all. Blue went running up to him and, instead of running away - Blackie let loose and kicked Blue right in the chest. We could hear the impact 100 yards away and Blue nearly fell. Poor guy, he still carries a scar (nearly a full year later) and I must admit that it's richly deserved.
Blackie might have been old and frail but he was also smart and observant. He always went into his mini-corral for feeding and I always closed the gate so he'd have peace and quiet. On most days he'd go in first, I'd close the gate and then go get everybody else ready for feeding. There were so many days, Blackie'd be in his corral, I'd get the others tied up and turn around only to find him standing 4 feet behind me. He got so good at opening his gate I had to put a lock on it to keep him in so I could get the bowls ready.
There was no doubt about it, eating was what Blackie was made to do. He had terrible trouble with hay, his teeth were so worn down he had trouble chewing it - so he loved to just pick up a big wad and throw it all over the place. Got a picture in his December album of just exactly that.
Treats! Say the word and there was Blackie, ready to go. The day came when he figured out how to get through the gate to the feed-shed. The gate doesn't go all the way from end to end and we have to tie a rope (old halter) across it to close off the gap, mainly to keep Cherokee out of there. Well, Blackie was skinny too; and he found out that he could simply step over the rope, duck under the door cover and have all the goodies he could hold. One day we came out to feed the guys/gals their breakfast and found the treats bottle in the center of the yard - torn to shreds, and empty. Blackie had gotten in, taken the bottle out and stomped it to share the treats with everybody. Talk about a bunch of happy horses...
One day we were doing a bit of work with "Blue" on carrying a saddle and Blackie was all interest - so we put a blanket over him, just to see what he'd do. His head came up, he braced his legs - he looked 10 years younger in just a split-second. Then we mounted a saddle on him, being very careful not to irritate his whithers (which were still rather pronounced). When we walked him around with the saddle, he nearly pranced! He was so fast!!!! We just walked him around for a few minutes but in that short time he was a completely different horse - full of energy, ready to go. He lifted his front legs high in the air, obviously remembering his training from years ago, and made quite a show of being worked a little bit. When we took the saddle off again and set it up on the fence he simply went over to it and rested his chin on the seat. I think that one day did more for his spirits than anything we'd done before or since.
Being black, the summer sun was something to be avoided for Blackie. Many was the day that we'd feed him and he'd go right into another stall - whereever we were sitting to get out of the sun - and just stand there, next to me with his head on my leg. He loved it when I'd just talk to him quietly and brush his mane or play with his ears. Talk about "quality time", an hour or so of just sitting there and being with him made my day!
He wasn't overly possessive, BUT... there were many times that we'd be working with another of the family and he'd decide it was his turn. We'd be brushing one of the guys/gals and suddenly he'd appear out of nowhere, ears back, head low, driving the others off so he could get our attention. There was one day that I was working with Max and in came Blackie. Once he'd driven Max off, he turned and walked right up to me - and then deliberately stepped on my foot to hold me still while he looked me straight in the eye. I can only imagine his thoughts ...
He wasn't beyond "biting the hand that fed him" either. One day, as I put his bowl down for breakfast, he simply reached over and bit me on the rear. I learned, that day, that even old horses can bite ... I can still feel it. That hurt!
I think the worst time we had with him was actually the first night he went down, 6 September 2002. I got the word at work that he was down and went flying out to the field to see what I could do for him. There he was, totally helpless, totally exhausted, just lying there. I got a pillow for his head and blankets to cover him, he never moved. After just sitting there, on the ground, for the longest time, he finally started to show some signs of life and lifted his head a bit to look at me. Then he did the most amazing thing - he laid his head back down on my lap and gave me a very long, very soft nicker. I was in tears, just stroking and talking to him, pleading for him to get up and be alright. I think God heard me that night - he finally did get up and we walked slowly to his little corral where I got him set-up with extra food & hay. Banjo stayed with us all night, keeping watch while I tried to get some sleep. Every time Blackie moved, Banjo would wake me to come and see. This was also the night that Banjo & I formed our first, strong bond. He was wonderful.
In the 10 months we had him, we saw Blackie in a full run just once. Usually, he was only slightly faster than the average turtle, he could take 5 minutes to walk 100 yards. One day, though, we went out to the field for breakfast and he waited near the front gate until everybody else was tied and ready to go, I didn't think he was going to come up for breakfast - and then he came tearing across the field like Blue usually does. He was magnificent!!!!!!!!
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