The Val and Junior Journal

 

 

The Final Chapter

 

Val and Junior Journal

 

Day  982  edition 93    MBLS Day   564

 

July 8, 2006                   http://www.pipedreamfarm.com

 

 

 

 

 

Sir Valiant Too  (Val)  4/24/03    -   7/6/06      Only the Good Die Young

 

Damn, this is harder than I thought it would be.  I have been trying to pull it and myself together for three days now.

 

Lest yall that don’t know me think I am some sort of tender hearted weenie, I should say that in days past I have been know as a pretty tough hombre.  I have been referred to as the meanest little big man you ever saw.  I was an infantry soldier and only the brave and the stupid crossed my path.  I been shot at and missed and shit at and hit.  I have been a security guard, a bouncer, and a karate practice dummy.

 

I have had broken bones, chain saw cuts and been wrapped up in barb wire.  I have been stomped on, kicked on, beat on and gnawed on.  I have had more than one close call with stupidity and death. 

 

I don’t think anything ever hurt me as much as finding my blue horse dead this past Thursday morning.

 

It was a little after five a.m. and I was going out on my way to work.  I saw him lying in the pasture and wondered why he was alone.  This crowd was always together.  I whistled and he neither moved nor answered.   A sense of dread filled me.  I hurried to him to find him dead and stiffening.  Then the world fell on me. 

 

I looked around and all the others were in the stable.  All looked fine.   What happened?  There were no signs of anything.  No struggling to get up.  No obvious physical harm.  No signs of sickness or disease.  He had been fine the night before and his usual self.  

 

What to do.  Should I call the Vet.  They could not bring him back and having participated in more than one autopsy, I had no interest in doing that to my beautiful blue horse.  I had no reason to think the others were in danger and decided against that.  I later called the vet and without autopsy, they were unable to do anything other than express condolences.  I asked a few questions to which I already knew the answers. 

 

I could not leave him exposed to the critters and I did not want Marie to have to come home and deal with this shock.  I decided to try to find someone to bury him.  On the way to the house I flipped through the mental rolodex and determined who I would try to find.  I decided to try to reach G.R. Taylor, a local contractor down the road who has excavation equipment.  His wife was not very happy when I woke them at five thirty.  I honestly figured that I would have to call early to get him before he left for a job site.  G.R. said he would be here at about eight am and he was.   He did a wonderful job with efficiency and compassion.  I thank him greatly.

 

I spent the intervening time stumbling around here blindly and sobbing like a teenage girl suffering her first heartbreak.  That was the pattern for the rest of the day.  Doing what I had to do and trying not to cry or die.  Yesterday I only had one crying fit.  So far I have made it through this day without one, but writing this is testing my mettle.

 

After getting Val buried, I went to work.  I was not much good to them and while the folks at work tried to console me; I waved them off as I could not bear to talk or think about it.  I just knew that I could not spend that day here.  Toward the middle of the day I discovered that I was, in fact, dreading going to the stable that night to feed and do the chores.   I knew I had to but I knew that he would not be there.

 

I called Marie at work to tell her and only succeeded in ruining her day. I could not even answer her questions,  but I did not want her to come home and be distraught over her inability to find him.

 

Finally, at days end and after supper, I had to work up the courage to go to the stable and barn to care for Star Baby and the long ears and the cattle.  It was nearly as hard as I had imagined.  For nearly three years he has been quietly supervising or gently nickering instructions in evening meal preparation.  Junior and Star Baby were even confused about where to go to eat.  It was then that I realized that they missed him every bit as much as I did.  Junior has been his constant companion from the start.  But Star Baby is absolutely lost.  I think she is as inconsolable as I.  She is even a bit bitter about it.

 

And now I have not made it through this day either.

 

Friday morning both Junior and Star Baby in turn went to the site where Val died and is buried.  They sniffed the ground and looked around and stood for a moment and then came back to the stable.  Junior came in and put his head on my shoulder.  This is something he has not done in a long time.  Both yesterday and today he has followed me every step when I was within his range.   Star Baby will come to me but she is not easily satisfied and goes to stand in Val’s spot, looking out the back of the stable.

 

We will get through this, I hope.  He is gone and we the living must endeavor to carry on.

 

My cow vet was here Friday morning to drop off some health papers for the bulls going to test.  His wife is a Vet and their daughter is in Vet School.  They have walking horses and the daughter expects to be an equine specialist.    I have known Bob over thirty years.  I told him that I had fooled with animals all my life and that I have buried a good many.  Some with deep regret and sorrow and some that needed burying, but that I had never lost one that has made me come so completely unglued as this.

 

I must take time here to express my appreciation for all the messages of condolence and sympathy and support that so many of you have sent.  I can not help but be amazed at the quantity and the sentiment and genuine support that I feel so many have offered.

 

Much to my mother’s dismay, I am not a deeply religious man.  She raised me in the church and I believe in God and I know good from evil and endeavor to do good.   So many of you have offered to keep us in your prayers and I truly believe it has helped me.  I appreciate that so many of you could tell how special he was too me and how  big the loss is.

 

A few had special meaning.  Sugars Mom from the Mule Skinners Forum said something like God had a special child arrive in heaven and he needed a special horse for them and so he had to take mine.  Yeah, he was that good natured and beautiful.

 

Several of you have cautioned me not to beat myself up wondering what I did wrong to cause this.  I have already been through that process several times.  I honestly don’t think I could have done much better and still let him be a horse.  Hal from the Mule Skinners Forum reminded me that horses have heart attacks and aneurisms and such just as folks do.  I know he wasn’t sick and the vet had just examined him on the routine yearly visit six days before.

 

Terry Moss, who raises big jumping horses and who has had her own share of tribulations in the last few years sent me a lovely message that cautioned me against hardening my heart and enjoying my other animals less.  I didn’t think she knew me well enough to know my defense mechanisms .  All I can say is I will try.

 

And so this brings to a close the Val and Junior Journal.  Perhaps someday another journal shall rise from the ashes in another incarnation of inspiration and joy.  But it won’t be soon.

 

The others are still here and here they shall stay.  I will love them and care for them and try to do my best for them.  I am not riding off into the sunset.   I am not riding anywhere.   We will be here trying to stay alive and doing the best we can.  But for now my inspiration and my enthusiasm and too much of me went with the big blue hoss.

 

I will try to remember the good times with him and not dwell on his absence.  To rejoice in what was and not languish in what will never be.  When I named him he had a big name to live up to, but he not only lived up to it, in my heart he surpassed them all.

 

Goodbye my big beautiful blue hoss.   I fear I shall miss you for the rest of my life.