Making the decision to euthanize a horse, or any animal, is a deeply emotional and vulnerable time for an owner. Whether the decision has been planned in advance, or is made suddenly in a time of trauma, the pain and grief is immense and very real, even if it is the best option.
With horses, there are also the logistics of getting the veterinarian on the farm and a backhoe operator to assist with burial, sometimes on holidays, weekends, or in the middle of the night. It can be overwhelming for someone who is grieving.
I’m reminded today how blessed I am to work in several mountain communities with decent, caring, and sensitive businesses and individuals that regularly offer their equipment and time to help their grieving neighbors, sometimes with little notice. I think we all have little opportunities to improve the lives of those around us, if we’re just willing to make ourselves available.
Published by Justin Jornigan
1987 model, gently used, a little rusty. Husband to Megan. I have the best dog in the world – a mutt named Tucker (Tuck, or Tucker J). We have a farm with 3 horses, 2 barn cats, and 2 house cats. I was born in the most beautiful place on earth – the mountains of Western North Carolina – and have returned here. First generation college graduate. I’m an introvert with a very extroverted job. Large animal veterinarian. I enjoy playing piano, quite walks along the creek, craft beer, life-giving conversation, scuba diving, riding horses, and mowing. I like to write, but don’t get to do it enough. I enjoy non-fiction, biographies, and progessive Christian thought. I hate the texture of most soft things – think dryer lint and cotton balls and ridiculous fleecy blankets. I love the smell of silage, horses, a leather shop, and the hardware store. I live for moments of unexpectedly laughing to tears and crampy cheeks, and to feel and smell the cold air right before it snows.
View more posts
windshieldrambling.com 