This morning my brother-in-law J. put down his horses. He drove them away one at a time, though he has a horse trailer for two, not wanting one to wait at the hospital for the time it took to euthanize the first. He took Lady first, the old dappled grey and white mare who hasn’t been able to take a rider for years but was, for a long time, healthy enough to keep Cyprus company. Cyprus, a chestnut gelding, whinnied the whole time Lady was gone; they have been constant companions for years, parted only when J. took Cyprus for a ride which he hasn’t been able to do for at least a year now. My brother-in-law drove him away about two hours after Lady. I haven’t seen him yet today. The whole family is torn up, but I’m guessing J. most of all. It’s a hard thing, to love an animal, to hold its welfare in your hands.
I’ve just got one poem for you this week, “The Love of Aged Horses” by Jane Hirshfield (from the Atlantic Online, February 1994).Poetry roundup | Comments (3)