Goodbye, Junior

Junior's brave battle ended today. For 11 days, he stood and told us he was willing to keep on keeping on, in spite of his grave injuries. When we saw that he was there in his appetite, his interest when someone opened the barn door, his spirit to fight in spite of his long odds, we fought along with him. We changed his bandages and administered his medicines, hoping against hope that this rangy old eastern Oregon steed could somehow muster the strength to beat his long chances of survival. 
He could not.

When we met him today at his stall, we knew it was time to call off this fight. He battled with the heart of a champion, or better, with the heart of a horse who knew the wide open spaces of eastern Oregon, the cold, rainy winters of western Oregon, and the warm sunshine spaces of both places. Junior especially found a home these last two years.

Junior meant a lot to me these last two tough basketball seasons. He saw me through last year, when I trudged through the fog and rain and frost and mist to feed him every morning. He whinnied softly when he saw me coming with alfalfa and grain. Junior. 

I know not everyone will understand, the connection between a quirky old rescue horse, and a sentimental old lover of horses, and dogs, and kids. Life on the farm and ranch is hard sometimes. We who love these characters face this inevitable goodbye. We have two choices: Love these animals without condition, knowing they won't last; or live coldly without their love, which only turns our own lives colder. I think I'll take the first.

I will miss Junior, but I will remember his spirit, the way he fought, stoically, the way he lived his days, quirkily, as a loner on this hill, how he zig zagged down to his alfalfa and grain. How he softened and warmed the cold winter days for me with a whinny and a stomp.

When I said my goodbyes to Junior today, he seemed to know. I rubbed his head, and he stood quietly, then rubbed his nose down my arm several times before resting his head quietly on my shoulder. Junior was ok. I like to say that he was a rescue, but in so many ways he rescued me.

Deep greens and blues 
are the colors I choose,
won't you let me go down 
in my dreams...
and rockabye sweet baby James.