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Re: Death took my horse...



I was very sorry to hear about your horses death, what a horrible thing to happen.
 
its probably no conselation at all but your horse had a very good (albeit short life) and colic is one of those things which can occur out of no where for little discernable reason.
 
Tamara
----- Original Message -----
From: DebiG54@aol.com
To: ridecamp@endurance.net
Sent: Wednesday, July 25, 2001 1:17 PM
Subject: RC: Death took my horse...

Ridecampers:

I seem to need to "talk" about this with people who will understand.  My
horse, USA Maverick, died Monday after the most violent colicking imaginable.
 I got him to a hospital, tried surgery, but he had a 720 degree torsion that
had ruined too much of his intestines.  He was 7 years old and the first
horse I had bred and raised and then prepared for endurance competition.  
Nine days ago, in his second AERC appearance, he was third and best condition
at Elk Valley in Pennsylvania.  Those 50 miles put my career mileage over the
5,000 mile mark.  I just can't believe this happened.

He earned his name, Maverick, as a youngster, because he was not an easy one
to deal with.  Defiant and cocky, he wanted nothing to do with people.  He
became my project.  At around 3 years of age, he finally let me touch him
without recoiling every time.  It's the tough ones that challenge you.  I was
as determined to win his affections as he was to keep his distance.  As I
began to prevail, he started winning my heart.  An absolute natural on the
trail, he was the type to notice everything with a snort, but he never
unseated me.  I rode him on my home trails for years, slowly preparing him
for his debut.  Stunning to look at, he was almost 15' 2", a chestnut with
four white socks and a blaze on his handsome face.  I knew he would get
people talking when I started campaigning him.  And he did.

His first time away from home was a 50 mile research ride in Middleburg, VA
this April.  He was just wonderful there, finishing fourth and taking to
camping and all the rest with minimal fuss.  The Old Dominion 50 was next,
where we finished 4th out of 80.  The Elk Valley ride was 11 days ago, and I
started hearing people say his name out loud.  "Maverick looked great."  
"Maverick..."  There was something kind of cool about hearing people talk
about him.  He was so much fun at this ride--he was happy and content.  He
liked what he was doing.  We had become true partners.  I had so much fun
with him, and I was so proud.

Monday was just a regular day, although it was pretty hot.  It's always hot
in Maryland in July though.  I found him severely distressed at 7 p.m.  By
midnight he was opened up on the operating table.  I saw the lead vet shake
her head when she looked inside him.  There was no hope she said later.  And
that was that.

He had thrown himself down in my yard hundreds of times during his agony.  He
took me down with him over and over as I tried to keep him up or keep him
down.  I wasn't strong enough to keep him from hurting himself.  My husband
tried, too.  I've never seen such agony in a living thing.  I can't make
sense of any of this.  

He was a bright light snuffed out before he barely had a chance to flicker.  
When he was flailing with his pain, I said, "If he dies, I'm selling all the
horses and moving to a condo."  My horror and sadness is almost unbearable.  
His potential, his progress, his utter coolness are already memories.  Like
my daughter said as we drove home in the early morning hours with swollen
eyes and an empty trailer, "It hurts so much to be human."  

Maverick...it was just the best name.  By the way, his mentor, best friend,
and field partner was CBS Redman.  They were a lot alike in many ways.  

Debi Gordon





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