Freya

We put Freya down day before yesterday. Freya didn't come up for breakfast but we didn't worry as there's so much grass about she's been occasionally filling up on that and only coming up for tea in the afternoon. R was feeding up and W, who was visiting, and I went down to help. He told me I'd better have a look at Freya as she wasn't eating. She was standing in the yard and it was obvious at a glance that she was unwell. She was very tucked up below her flanks. She was tossing her head occasionally and pinching her nostrils. Went up to the house for the stethoscope and thermometer. Her heartrate was 54 (she used to be around the 34, 36bpm) and her temperature was 38. I didn't count her respiration. It was obvious she was breathing shallowly, almost panting.

For the past several months she's been having some diarrhoea. Some days were worse than others but it was common to find some staining on her hocks. That day she had manure coating the underside of her tail and thick streaks running down her legs. Called the vets and N got on to H for me. She'd be out within the hour.

In the movies almost all funeral scenes are shot in the rain. Suppose rain and grey overcast skies contribute o the mood. This day was no exception. It was grey, the ceiling was low and it was drizzling. When I rang the vets I told N to tell H to bring the lethabarb. Somehow I knew it wasn't going to end well.

H arrived and we all trooped down to see Freya. H had done some reading and went through all the types of cancers, bowel, kidney, liver problems she might have. But when we walked into the stall I could smell it. It's a smell once experienced never forgotten. Blood in faeces. Freya had had a big squirt while we were at the house. I scooped some onto a leaf and smelled it and then held it up to H to smell. The blood was invisible to the eye but not the nose. That clinched it. H had brought blood tubes in case we wanted tests done. She'd brought Flunixil and a/b's in case we wanted to give it a few days while we waited for the results of the tests. But there was really no hope. What had been chronic was now acute.

It seemed while we'd been away that the pain had eased. I suspect, like many gastrointestinal problems, it came in waves. She had another huge squirt of manure. She wasn't bobbing her head or looking at her flanks but her nostrils were still pinched. I'd led her out of the rain and into a stall. She never budged.

Luckily Dakota has been used to being on his own. Because we shut her up to feed her the other horses would tire of hanging around and go off to feed. When we led Freya away Dakota was down the hill and out of sight. He never saw her. She never called out for him.

We decided to take her to the dam paddock. Unfortunately we have to be rational and do things in a way that allows the front end loader access. Poor girl, she was very weak. I don't know how long she'd been suffering. It could have been 23 hours if the sickness had started right after feeding her the night before or in the last 30 minutes. Anyway, the dear soul followed me without protest. We made a sad line trudging to and through the dam paddock. W came as did R. The vet was right behind Freya and I. When we came to the ridge Freya hesitated because she was so weak. She was even swaying a little behind but I urged her on and after a moments thought she negotiated her way downhill.

I am so grateful she stayed calm and unafraid. She flinched with the insertion of the catheter but otherwise stayed still while H injected the lethabarb and I kissed her eyes and told her how much I loved her. She fell almost immediately. Even though she twitched I think she was dead by the time she hit the ground. H listened for a heartbeat and there was none.

And so ended an 18 year acquaintance. Freya was not an affectionate horse like Drifter and Balthazar are. She wasn't mean, she wasn't even offish. She tolerated caresses and kisses but didn't solicit them. She stood like a stone while I groomed her (and we'd nearly got all the long winter hair off her - she was looking very pretty that day) or untangled her mane. She'd nicker for her food but not as a greeting. Even so, she was my first endurance horse and she was game, brave and full of spirit. She did everything I asked her too and more. I retired her when I suspected she was becoming unsound and even though nothing was definite it was possible, the vet from UQ said, that she had some navicular issues. So I rode her for a year and retired her for 17. Not too bad a life I think. She had a honeymoon with a cute red stallion and lived with him for a couple of months, had Dakota at 14 and was an excellent mother. She kept the other horses in line with looks and pinned ears. Rarely did she resort to biting or kicking but wasn't afraid to impose her will by violence if she had to. Otherwise she was a graceful doe-eyed feminine and very beautiful lady. She will be missed.