Inquiring Minds Want to Know

The overwhelming loss of Bay will be with me for some time, and it is still hard to talk about. Interestingly, it is as hard for me as the loss of Juno, my constant companion. I was reflecting today that those animals were part of me, just as humans become part of you, and letting go is saying goodbye not only to them, but a phase or part of your life. I have nothing really to keep of Bay, save his blanket, to remember him by. I was so hoping he'd respond to IV treatement, that I didn't take a lock of his tail. I guess I do have his bridle, likely not to be used again. I was thinking today, however, if I reach down inside myself, I can feel him. He's part of me now, and I don't need anything physical. I am that.

Many people don't know about horses and what happens when horses die. It isn't something pleasant to discuss, yet, it is part of life and perhaps it is my task in life to connect people to things that aren't known anymore in our suburban lives. My horse, Smokey, when he died, weighted 800 pounds, and died at home. We were blessed with a neighbor that is an excavator and felt bad for my girls' loss. He brought over a bulldozer and buried Smokes in the back pasture after we dragged him there with the tractor. (You should have seen the looks on the faces of the horses in the pasture!)

Bay, on the other hand, died at the hospital, and weighed in at 1200 pounds. He could not be brought back without considerable expense and effort. So, the question I keep getting is what happened to his body? Well, there is a service here in our horsey state, and whether at the hospital or home, they'll come get the horse. They arrive with a big truck, which likely already contains the remains of other horses from prior stops. Most likely, they take these horses all to a processing plant, and the sad reality of it, is that they use the meat for feed (dog food, etc) and hooves for making glue. I don't know what all they do, but that's as far as I'm willing to educate you. Google it if you must.

I comfort myself knowing he's not there, and best that his body goes to good use. I am going to get a small plaque for my flower garden for him, and remember him strong.