After I had taken that first overdose after my summer at the farm, a few things happened. Buddy was re-homed to a lady in Wales who was going to attempt to cure him of his navicular using barefoot trimming, which at the time was one of the hardest things I had had to do. I really loved that horse and wasn’t particularly stable, but I got through it.
The rumours that I had supposedly spread about my being ‘raped’ were finally proven to be started by the bloke I had been friendly with – it turned out that his girlfriend was soon to return from America and he wanted me off the scene, he didn’t want to get caught out messing about with ‘another girl’. Initially I hated hilary for dumping me like that, but in time, I accepted her apologies and we became friends once again.
A few months later, I decided I was ready to have another horse, so using the insurance money I had received from buddy (I had a special policy which paid out even though he wasn’t put down) I went out and bought myself a horse called Jack. I moved him to the same yard where Hilary had now moved to (she had consequently fallen out with the owner of the yard and left her position as yard manager). At this new yard, the manager was called Gillian, and similar to hilary, we became close. Yet again, looking back in this, it stinks of me searching for that elusive mother figure. This relationship also later broke down when he fell out, leaving me again feeling dejected and Abandoned.
Despite other things going on in my life (I have covered these in separate posts) I kept Jack for several years, he became my everything. When I went to university, he came with me, I lived and breathed him. He had several injuries in the time that I had him, but these were resolved without much problem.
After I finished university, I started working for the family company, and still had Jack. I was living with Jean at this point, and she had her own horse, as did her husband, and her two children shared a pony. In fact, I met jean because we kept our horses in the same place and I suppose we initially got on because we had the same interests.
When I became Ill 18 months ago, I began to lose interest in Jack. I still loved him with everything I had, but was psychically unable to look after him. For those who don’t know, looking after horses takes several hours of every day, normally early morning and late evening, including heavy manual labour such as shifting hay, straw and poop. When I stopped caring about life, I stopped caring about Jack too.
My parents suggested that I gave him to a lady they knew, called Clara. Clara actually works for the family company, has a daughter who has her own horses, and lives on a farm with her husband. Clara told me that she would give Jack a lovely home, he would be ridden gently every day (by this point he was now 15 so ready for a quieter life) and looked after with as much love as I would give him. It sounds terrible to admit it, but at the time I couldn’t bring myself to care about what happened to him; I didn’t care about myself and what happened to my own life let alone anything else.
So, I gave Jack to Clara. I also gave her all his tack, rugs and accessories (altogether this was probably worth about £1500 ($2000?) but it wasn’t about the money, the least I could do for jack was send things with him that would keep him warm and comfortable. I didn’t ask for any money for him, it took everything I had to keep focused on making the arrangements for his move anyway, and on the day he was picked up, I look an overdose. I never ever thought I would be without jack, and definitely not in those circumstances. I knew I would still be able to see him but it wasn’t the same.
Or so I thought. Three weeks after Jack had moved, I received a Facebook message asking me why I had put Jack in the trade-it (it’s like a free advertising paper); when I looked, there he was, in black and white, for sale for a large price, pictures stolen from my personal Facebook advertising him as an eventer /hunter (definitely not the quiet life I was hoping for him). If I could bring myself to feel anything at this time, it was to be devastated, angry and to feel so utterly heartless, selfish and deceived.
As far as I am aware, Jack was sold to a riding school, and currently I am not sure of how he is. I probably cold find out, but I am too selfish; it hurts too much to even think about Jack. Every now and again I look through all my old pictures of the time we spent together, all the good times he gave me, and I try to be positive; but I know I let him down in a big way. I know horses don’t have thoughts and feelings like humans do but I didn’t do the best for him like I should have done; as the owner of an animal we have a responsibility for them, and I failed him in that.
Take Care. X