Passage in the Herd

Young Lor showing in hand

There was a transition in our barn herd this week. Lor had come to us a dozen years ago, semi-retired, no longer the prize show pony, past her brood mare era, and recovering from a bad suspensory injury. We rode her lightly the first few years, but her primary role was as companion — for whomever needed a friend in the barn.

She seldom drew attention, but she became everyone’s favorite pony. With a rider, she willingly ventured wherever we asked. Yet, in our wooded Maine pastures, she was at first timid without a herd buddy leading the way.  When I rode out on my mare, I would leave hay for Lor by the gate.  Routine was critical for her, and  she quickly learned that hay-by-the-gate meant we would return. She’d walk to that pile, and wait quietly until we returned. (Yvonne Barteau helped unlock Lor’s personality for me with her book, Ride the Right Horse.)

Lor showing as side-saddle mount

Lor comforted horses and read people’s thoughts. She knew other horses dare not bully her so long as one of us was near: she trusted us to protect her, and the herd knew it. When we weren’t there, she agilely evaded aggressive horses and, well into her twenties, jumped gates if she felt trapped.

In her final years, she took on the upbringing of my young Welsh Cob, who saw lions behind every bush, and heard dragons roaring in every new sound. Once, when I dropped a dumpster lid with a clang, I saw the filly bolt in fear, and race across the pasture to Lor, who looked up calmly and then resumed grazing. The filly stayed close, snitching hay from Lor.

It was hard to say goodbye to Lor. Other horses in our barn have had quiet or tragic endings over the years, but always there was a clear time to let go. It was different with Lor. She was warm and caring to the end, always, even on that last morning, her bass nicker when I came to feed, and her hearty appetite. But Cushings had caused dramatic weight loss, and winter is coming…  One morning a week ago,  she came in three-legged lame with an abscessed hoof. I’ve dealt with abscesses, drawn them out and worked with our farrier to heal them. But.   No.   This time I poulticed her, got her sound, then called the vet.

Lor as new surrogate "mom"

I’m not alone in having to face this time of decision in our horses’ lives. That doesn’t make it any easier. But this lovely Connemara leaves wonderful memories and lasting lessons. When the excavator rumbled into the pasture this week, I stood by my young Cob’s stall as she wheeled,  trembled and stared wide-eyed. Gradually she settled, alternately listening to my reassurances and nuzzling the swatch of Lor’s tail hung in her stall. When the excavator passed by her stall again, she stood stoically alert, and able to handle that dragon with aplomb.

One Response to “Passage in the Herd”

1. Rhonda Lane says:

   August 9, 2011 at 9:07 am

   I’m so sorry to hear of your loss. I’m glad Lor was a part of your life. She was lucky to be a part of your herd.

   Reply