Introductions and departures: the ups and downs of horse ownership.

Some of our followers have noticed, and maybe you as well, that I’ve added a new member to my furry crew at home earlier this year. He’s a cute, sweet, well-mannered, Dutch gelding yearling. I did not anticipate adding any new members to my little group, but life had other plans, and sometimes you just have to roll with the punches.

This is certainly not a post I thought I would be writing this year, to be sure. It’s taken me a while to find the words to bring it all together, and I think I’m finally there. As a lifelong equestrian, sooner or later, you have to deal with tough choices and even harder decisions. I live my equestrian life fairly publicly on our social media pages. I try to include just about everything life throws my way, both relatable and mundane, on our platforms. Horses are humbling, and I think it’s important for me to show that transparency in our accounts.

In February of 2025, one of my geriatric retirees had slowed down dramatically and, for the first time in her pony life, had become indifferent to food. She had been diagnosed with a strangulating lipoma in 2023 at 22 years old. We made a plan that she would be with us for as long as she was happy and comfortable. I watched her closely and soon after, on an unusually warm sunny day in late February of 2025, Miss Maggie, aka Magpie, let us know she was ready to move on. As hard as it was, I’m a firm believer in letting them pass on a good day instead of waiting for their worst. She came to me from friends, and she left surrounded by friends.

It was a sad day for sure, but I was prepared, as she had lived 2 years longer than anyone anticipated she would, and I knew the day would come. Magpie didn’t make too many appearances on our platforms; she’d been retired for probably 10 years. You’ll see her in some group shots and one from 2023 where I got her to pose with a Santa hat on. She was content to just be and not be fussed over too much. She is buried down by my ring near her good friends Ladybug – Oliver’s Dam/Lego’s Granddam and Emily – Oliver’s full sister/ Lego’s Dam. One expected departure is enough for anyone to have to deal with in a given year. I had no idea that 8 weeks later, another tragedy would strike.

Since I was down to three, Oliver, Lego, and Secret (aka Spicy Secret), I moved Secret out with her Bff’s Oliver and Lego. Secret had been keeping Maggie company, but with her departure, the boys were thrilled to have her back in their turnout group. Spring arrived and bringing muzzle season with it. Secret had a past founder history, let the muzzle shenanigans begin! There are several posts featuring her and her muzzle games throughout our accounts.

She’s always a good sport about her muzzle at meal times. I’d take her muzzle off for meals, and she would stand patiently after her meager mealtime handful and await her ‘muzzle tax’. She’d get a small crunchy cookie in her muzzle as tax for not hassling me when putting it back on.

She came to me as a jumper project in 2018, whom I had intended to either breed ( she was a beautiful blood bay with 4 socks and a big blaze, and a lovely mover with tons of scope) or flip after figuring out her quirks. I did a bunch of research and was able to determine she had 7 owners in 3 years. I made several attempts to talk to all of her old owners, most of whom couldn’t be bothered to give me any of her history. I decided it was likely that her quirks were well-earned.

After working with her for a few months, she really reminded me of my very first horse. Between her markings, personality, and quirks, I quickly decided my place would be her final destination. She became a frequent face on our social media pages as she was VERY SPICY but loved to model. She hated any kind of ring work; she would break out in a cold sweat off the trailer at a horse show, but she loved to fox hunt, hunter pac,e and trail ride, alone or in company.

After trying all the things for 2 years to get her to enjoy the horse show scene, I decided she was never going to work through whatever anxiety the show scene caused her. Since I’d already decided she wasn’t leaving my possession, it made no sense to continue to push the issue. We learned to Fox hunt together with Goodwin Hounds, had fun on the hunter pace circuit, and would often meet friends at state parks for trail rides.

She never really outgrew her quirk for bolting backwards when getting off the trailer, but we compromised with a wider trailer she could turn around in and walk out of peacefully. Much to everyone’s relief in the hunt field! My goodness, she would make such a ruckus backing off that trailer; it sounded like she was stuck under a divider. Nope, just Secret stomping her way backwards like a rocket.

She loved modeling products for ‘How-to’s’ and blog post demos. Her top clip is demonstrating how to fit a hackamore bridle on TikTok & Youtube. She was such a good sport and so patient with repeated takes and my tripod trying to tip over every 3 seconds. LOL, That’s pretty much her job these last few years, doing demos, modeling, trail rides, and the occasional hunt.

All of which was brought to an abrupt end this past spring. I went out one morning to feed about 2 months after Magpie left us. Secret was quietly lying down about 20 feet from the gate. Quietly, just watching me bring breakfast. Make no mistake, this girl was a chowhound for her handful. So I knew immediately something was off. She stood up and walked up to me. I fed the boys and brought her up to the barn, where she promptly lay down in her stall, again quietly. Not thrashing around, but she was flank watching (when a horse turns and looks at their side). At this point, all the red flags are flying. Her pulse and respiration were elevated, and she had what I call her “worry eyes”. Wrinkled eyebrows and nostrils were usually a good sign for her that she wasn’t feeling her best.

I called my vet, who is also a good friend and my husband at work ( also a vet, but 1 hour away). At this point, I wasn’t quite sure if I was dealing with a reproductive issue – she had a history of large inovulatory follicles, or a colic. I was advised to hold off on the Banamine until she could be worked up. Vet arrived within 30 minutes, she got up reluctantly, and was given a full exam. After the rectal exam, my vet asked me if she was a surgical candidate.

My heart dropped. I was not expecting colic, and definitely not a colic requiring surgery. My heart screamed yes, but my gut immediately said no. I looked at my vet, and we went over her medical history. She’s 19, she had a founder history with mild rotation of both coffin bones. What are the odds that at her age, with her founder history that surgery would lead to a successful recovery with a decent quality of life? Reality being what it is, I have to think of her first over what my heart wants. I absolutely do not want to put her through surgery just to have her founder again and lead us down the same path.

There was a slight chance we could turn it around by running fluids on the farm. We made a plan to try fluids and see where that took things. A catheter was placed, NSAIDs were given, and I went to the vet’s office and picked up 30 liters of fluids. I started the fluids around 11 am and ran the last bag at about 3:30 pm. (For context, I was an equine vet tech earlier in life; the vet knew I was knowledgeable enough to do this unsupervised.) Secret lay quietly in her stall while the fluids were administered. As each bag ran through my heart sank a little more; she was not responding as hoped and showed no interest in getting up.

At around 4 pm, with a full bladder, she stood up and gave me ‘the look’. If you’ve seen it, you know. I refer to it as the “please hit me with a bat’ look of defeat. After she urinated, probably 25 liters of the darkest urine I’d ever seen, she indicated she wanted to lie back down. Knowing exactly where in this game we stood, I kept her up. I called my vet, and we made the slow walk down to what has become the cemetery for old friends. She passed quietly and quickly, knowing she was loved, and I knew I’d done the right thing. It did not make it any easier, but she was ready.

The lack of preparation for her passing left me completely blind sided. I knew Magpie was living on borrowed time, but I expected to have Secret at least another 10 years, figuring she and Oliver would retire together at some point and live out their days in the back pasture. Oliver and Lego were equally devastated and screamed for her for a few days following her passing. It broke my heart to hear them call for her, but only time was going to close the gaping hole of her absence.

It was very quiet around the farm for the first 6 weeks. Secret was the leader of the pack. She decided where they would graze, when they would drink water, which shade tree had the most shade, etc. I could see that Oliver and Lego were absolutely lost without her. Truthfully, it was the first time in a long while that I no longer had a mare on the farm. Maybe that’s why they seemed so lost?

They seriously seemed to have no idea what they were supposed to do at turn out anymore. Plus, the boys were becoming increasingly herdbound. If you have two, you know how it can be to want to bring one to a lesson or a show. The one at home is usually very unhappy about this. Since I was dealing with the post-Helene barn rebuild, I was taking a break from showing anyway. The plan was to wait 3 months and just wait for the right mare/situation to arise before adding a new member to the herd.

Things were moving forward, the barn repair was mostly done, just waiting on little things like electric and gutters. The boys had settled into moping around the field and occasionally staring at my neighbors’ horses grazing. The sense of loss was palpable, and I had not even thought about how I was going to tell anyone publicly about her departure; there were just no words. Then one morning, while doomscrolling my personal social media, I saw a response to someone’s ISO horse request. Poster was ISO a green project. The responder had a yearling whose kind eye caught my attention. The OP passed as it was younger than she wanted.

I found myself messaging the owner asking for more information about this little gelding. I hit it off right away with the owner, and we talked at length about my experience raising and producing young horses. We discussed what plans I had for this little guy if the fit was right, and long-term goals. My theories and experience aligned with hers, but when it came to price, he was just too far out of my price range once I added commercial shipping to his price. Because, of course, he’s halfway across the country and a 4-day round-trip drive is just not something I can pull off at the moment.

A month went by, and to my surprise, the owner reached back out, asking if she could meet my offer, was I still interested. Let me tell you all the thoughts that went through my head. Do I NEED a yearling? He’s a gelding; I really wanted a mare; I’d really been looking for another thoroughbred mare. This little guy is a warmblood and a gelding. In the end, she sent several videos, and I took a huge chance on that big, expressive, kind eye. Plus, watching the boys mope around the pasture was getting downright painful to watch.

It took another few weeks and several attempts with different shippers to find someone headed this way who was willing to bring a yearling. Squiggy arrived on the first Saturday in August, a hot, muggy, overcast day, all by himself in a box stall, the last delivery before the driver was to head home to Ohio. I hopped up in the rig and found a scraggly sun-bleached bay with a curious nose and a friendly demeanor, nervously checking out his surroundings.

With the barn now complete, Oliver and Lego were in their stalls under fans, quietly munching hay when the rig arrived. One curious whinny from Squiggy as he exited the trailer was all it took for the boys to call back and welcome him to the farm. Since he came from so far away and was shipped with horses from other farms, quarantine was in order. No one was more unhappy about that than Lego, surprisingly.

After being kept apart for several weeks and routinely checking Squiggy’s vitals for abnormalities, he was cleared for group turnout. Squiggy shared a fenceline with Oliver and Lego for a few days before I put Oliver in with him. Oliver is typically the voice of reason (never thought that day would come!) and a solid citizen who knows how to play without being rough. The two were fast friends, leaving Lego on the other side of the fence line much to his displeasure.

This lasted about two weeks, until I went out of town for 3 days in late August. No one is taking responsibility for what happened next. Twelve hours after I boarded my flight, my husband went out to feed and found Squiggy in Lego’s pasture along with a missing fence post. Squiggy had some scrapes and scratches, but nothing deep or serious, and he was returned to his side of the pasture with Oliver.

When I got home 2 days later, it was clear all introductions had been made, and could I open the gate connecting the two pastures, please and thank you? After everyone finished breakfast, I walked out to the gate in the fence line and opened it up so the 3 of them could have freedom of both fields. Once the three of them were out together, I noticed an immediate change in my older guys. They weren’t moping around the pasture anymore and were busy teaching Squiggy the rules of the field. Even Lego, despite his size and habit of playing rougher than necessary, surprised me.

Lego seems to understand, he’s a youngster, and play needs to be appropriate and not too rough. He’s been very patient with his teaching skills. I’d expected him to be overaggressive with Squiggy, maybe he was for the first day or two. But, now it’s a little nip, a shove out of the way with a hock, a shoulder check when Squiggy’s in the way, and now that blanket season is in full swing, the classic grab the neck of Squiggys blanket and pull. All in all, Lego has been very fair and accurate with educating Squiggy, which was my biggest concern.

I won’t sugarcoat it, I got really lucky buying Squiggy sight unseen, and typically I would not recommend it for anyone who has not raised a youngster from the ground up. Squiggy walked off the trailer with incredible ground manners and was clearly well handled. I honestly expected something half feral to roll into my driveway with no manners, not halter broke, terrified to have his feet touched with a biting problem.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a kind-eyed creature with a big, expressive face who keeps his teeth in his mouth when bipeds are present. He puts his nose into his halter when it’s time to go in or out, stands quietly to be blanketed without being tied, and picks up all 4 of his feet for anyone who asks without question. He is content to let me clean his stall while he’s eating breakfast, and when asked, will stand quietly for a reasonable period of time while tied.

Is he perfect? No, but that’s not his job at this age; he’s a baby with a short attention span who can focus for short periods. Does he wiggle for the farrier, absolutely, does he wrinkle his face up and let me know when I’m annoying him – you bet. Is he impatient for meals and nippy with treats? I expect no less at his age!

Though we all miss spicy Secret and her presence around the farm, she will never be forgotten. However, the boys have begun to move forward with Squiggy keeping them busy. Squiggy has some big shoes to fill, but he seems ready for the challenge. I know new adventures await us in the next few years.

Considerations for anyone who thinks they may find themselves facing a similar situation. It’s hard to prepare for these times, but it makes it much worse when you don’t know where to start. I’m not sharing this information to be dark; I just want to share this for anyone who finds themselves in need with no idea where to begin.

Be aware of state and local legislation regarding animal/livestock burial in your area. If you are unable to bury your horse at home or at your boarding stable, have the number to your local state lab location or nearest vet school available. Typically, they can handle this with a necropsy and disposal service. Remains at these locations are typically cremated en masse, and for health and safety, remains cannot be returned to you. State lab settings will likely need you to arrange post-procedure shipping. Your vet can help plan with this; if all else fails, a flatbed wrecker is an option.

If you wish to have the remains returned to you, you will need to make arrangements with the cremation facility in advance, before procedures begin.

In areas where you can bury your horse at home, talk to your vet about your situation and get guidance for preparation. Ask your vet or equine community for the phone numbers of local community members willing to bury your friend with dignity. Big machinery skills aside, you want someone who’s going to show up and do the job right and respectfully.

Have a location or general area decided upon in advance, it should be clear with good access and not too close to fencing, trees, or structures.

Be sure to have gates unlocked/opened for the vet and the burial crew. If there will be a lengthy delay between the procedure and the burial crew’s arrival, have your horses’ blanket nearby to cover to deter wildlife.

If you plan to make a keepsake with tail or mane hair, it’s best to take what you need before the process starts. Even if you’re not sure you want to do this, take some anyway and save it somewhere, just in case you change your mind. My jeweler of choice for these keepsakes is Ponylocks. Penny does an amazing job at creating keepsakes in a variety of price ranges.

Once burial is complete, I will use the area to empty my wheelbarrow after stall cleaning for a few weeks. This not only gives the site a familiar smell, but it also keeps wildlife away and assists with the regrowth of vegetation. Personally, I think this helps with my grieving process as well as trying to return the area to its natural state as quickly as possible.