The tragedy

Last night we had the most terrible storm. It took us twice as long to drive up to the farm, which included driving through floodwaters. (Big "no no", I know). We got to the farm very late, the eves were leaking in a couple of spots, our gumboots were full of water, and our back patio was a swimming pool. I heard a neigh, but since Dingo had been neighing out a lot recently, I chose to ignore it.

This morning, with rain primarily continuing, I ventured outside. I checked on the ponies in the power pole paddock, and saw a lonely figure lying down behind the fence line. My heart sank. The horse turned his head to look at me. Gally. A flame of hope still burnt in me that it wasn't too bad. Cautiously I approached the fence line - on the one hand not wanting to scare the horse, on the other hand trying to delay the inevitable.

I peered across the fence - it was worse than I had expected. It was worse than I had ever seen in my life. The back leg was broken. Half way between the hock and the fetlock. The bottom part of the leg was merely attached by skin and a piece of muscle. My brain fought hard at finding some way to fix things. I felt totally helpless.

I ran across the farm, screaming for my husband. The place felt totally deserted. I felt like grabbing a horse and just riding out, riding far, not returning for hours. Except that the horse I really wanted to ride way lying in the paddock. I wanted to scream, but was too scared in case Sabina would run out in a panic. I wanted to cry, but couldn't.

Finally I found my husband, and while he made a certain phone call, I chopped up carrots. I made up a tasty feed and took it out to Gally. He ate it gladly - he always loved his food. Then I covered him up with a blanket to keep him warm. I sat with him for a while, stroking his neck and singing him lullabyes.

After lunch I was milling aimlessly in the house. My husband called "Do you have any horses in that paddock where Gally is?", he asked. "No". "Well in that case, Gally is standing up." I threw my soaking coat back on and ran outside. Gally was standing up, head held proudly, ears pricked forward, a curious spark in his eye.

And I stood there in awe, etching this beautiful horse in my mind forever. His strenght, and his belief in me and that I could help him. Thoughts of calling the vet and having a prosthesis attached to replace the broken leg, rushed madly through my mind. In vain. I said my last goodbyes to Gally.