For he was great of heart.

[glenatron]

For anyone who has missed out on me and Othello you can probably trace back through posts tagged about horses, but I will put a few chosen photos here, just to give you an idea of how things have been going until now:

The day he arrived, a bit sweaty and with room for a touch more condition.

A year on, he was looking a lot more solid and working a lot more softly, we had developed into a pretty cool team.

The two of us a month or so back, in the field after we had done some work together. He was totally free to go, but he just stood with me, his head resting heavy on my arm. After all the time we spent building that bond, it was a moment I will always treasure.

Trotting, a few weeks ago - it was my birthday and shortly after this was taken he took me for my first ever canter. It felt brilliant.

This is a totally average picture with not particular artistic merit. It is however, the last Othello portrait.

Sequoia had been invited to play in Toronto as part of Canadian music week, so after giving the ponies breakfast last monday we ambled off to the airport and flew to Canada.

On Tuesday our kind (and vastly experienced) friend who was keeping an eye on the ponies noticed that he had a bit of a shiver on and didn't seem interested in his hay so she brought him in to a stable and rugged him for the night. She phoned the vets who said he had a bit of a chill and she was doing the right thing.

At 4 a.m. (Toronto time) on Wednesday we got a call saying his condition had worsened- he hadn't eaten and was still shivering, when our friend asked him to move over he had almost gone down. She called the vet out immediately but as his condition deteriorated I think it increasingly became clear what was likely to happen. The vet thought he had probably suffered a major organ failure, but they could take him to the equine hospital and get him thoroughly tested to be sure. Given that he could hardly stand, he had never been a good traveller and that if any of the things they suggested were correct then there would still be nothing they could do it was clear to all of us, I think, what decision would be in his best interests. We gave the word for them to put him down.

That morning I broke more completely than I ever have before. I was fortunate that I had Lou there to handle practicalities because I was hardly coherent. The loss of a dear and honest friend, as fine a pony as anyone could ever wish for, cut me through and through and I felt that I had let him down terribly by teaching him he could trust me, building that bond up between us and then not being there at the end when really I should have been.

Lou disputed the latter point. She feels that as far as he could, he chose a time to go that I wouldn't be there. She observes that my last memory of him is pretty much his regular grouchy self.

Either way, I will miss him more than I can adequately express.

When I was small I used to do a lot of creative writing. These days not so much, but sometimes I find the discipline of writing metre helps me order my thoughts and I'm going to put this out here because it makes clear a bit about the relationship I shared with that pony:

The Teacher

The teacher inclines his head
Assesses his student and the summer sky
His school is sand and grass and wood
His student slow, but they always try
And his work is never done
Because his student always has something more to learn
Errors shown and then forgiven;
Respect is not a gift, it must be earned.

The teacher turns his head
Surveys his student and the autumn sun.
They are trying to understand
Every lesson is the most important one.
So he puts them through his paces;
Educates them in braces and evasions.
He thinks that maybe they'll come good
With a little time and a lot of patience.

The teacher bows his head
Lays himself softly down on the winter ground.
If his student hasn't learned
He's left the answers where they can be found;
Because at last his work is done
Although his student begs him not to go
And he thinks that maybe they'll come good
he's taught them everything they need to know
Now the sun is shining weakly
Every lesson was a gift given and received
The teacher lays down his tired head
Closes his eyes and quietly leaves.

In the end there is little I can add to the last line describing Othello in Shakespeare's play.

Othello, Dales Pony, 1994-2007: He was great of heart

My heart is broken.

Comments

[flangebeast.livejournal.com]

Dude.
Sympathy.

[life-of-tom.livejournal.com]

yeah. king of harsh.

[spoondog.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry sweetheart.

[spirithorse21.livejournal.com]

Oh no! What a terrible shock! I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm glad you had such a wonderful bond with him and that you got to know him. Again, sorry for your loss.

[ribenademon.livejournal.com]

Sorry mate. Sad news.

[glenatron.livejournal.com]

Thanks guys.

It's been weird cos I sort of got over things as much as I could when it happened but now being back and having to find his stuff and give it back to his owner and be back in the life where I belonged to him is very tough.

[silks-ic.livejournal.com]

Sorry to hear that mate

[kittyfantastico.livejournal.com]

Words cannot express my sympathy for you, my heart goes out to both of you, and Joe.

[chrissieangel.livejournal.com]

Am gutted for you. I loved reading your posts about othello, as the happiness he gave you showed in your posts.

hugs

[maluse.livejournal.com]

evil_c here.
I am so very sorry :-( *hugs* I know how much it hurts, he was so beautiful.

[markchadbourn.livejournal.com]

Very sorry, Ben. You're in my thoughts.

[springfire.livejournal.com]

I have no words that will help, only sympathy and the feeling that you gave him something special. Love. And that in the end, he didn't want you to see him hurting.

(fafnir)

[stu-the-elder.livejournal.com]

This from the Navajo war god's horse song:

" . . . My horse has a hoof like striped agate.
His fetlock is like fine eagle plume.
His legs are like quick lightening.
My horse's body is like an eagle-feathered arrow.
My horse has a tail like a trailing black cloud.

His mane is made of rainbows.
My horse's ears are made of round corn.
My horse's eyes are made of stars.
My horse's head is made of mixed waters.

My horse's teeth are made of white shell.
The long rainbow is in his mouth for a bridle.
With it I guide him.

I am wealthy from my horse.
Before me peaceful
Behind me peaceful
Under me peaceful
Around me peaceful
Peaceful voice when he neighs
I am everlasting and peaceful.
I stand for my horse."

Baa shíni, or in English, I feel bad about it. Sorry, Ben.

- Crump

[glenatron.livejournal.com]

That's awesome Stu. You know so much random stuff.

[littlesnowy.livejournal.com]

I'm really sorry for you mate. You obviously made each other very happy.

[shiva-matimbres.livejournal.com]

i wanted to find some words that were pretty and meaningful, but i didn't. I'm just really sad to hear the news. He was a great fellow, and a lot of that was down to the work you put in the and love you gave him.

[baddynono.livejournal.com]

Similarly I'm no good with clever words, but I do promise we will see you at some point on the weekend and give you a hug :)
... as long as you don't make that difficult by being somewhere other than your house or reading.