Anne-Marie : Charlie, will I ever see you again?
Charlie : Sure you will, kid. You know goodbyes aren't forever.
Anne-Marie : Then goodbye, Charlie. I love you.
Charlie : Yep... I love you too.
* All Dogs go to Heaven *
I know it feels like lately all we do is post about loss, but imagine what it feels like to us. Charlie is the fourth horse we've lost in just a little over 3 weeks, along with a beloved senior dog, so we're struggling. We're numb. We're drowning. We're barely able to breathe.
But we NEED to say goodbye properly, and honor Charlie, because if ever a horse deserved a huge goodbye, it's him.
Charlie was one of the best horses you can imagine. A big, sweet paint, Charlie spent a large part of his life working at Camp Foster near Spirit Lake, Iowa, and he was well loved by not only the hundreds of children that attended camp but the staff as well. When Charlie started to struggle with his weight and heaves, even though it broke their hearts they reached out to us for retirement, as they just weren't ready to say goodbye forever.
He was happy there, and he was happy here. Really, he was just a happy, content, easy going boy that was easy to love. We quickly realized he needed to continue to be surrounded by love, so retired him and let him work in our children's program; being loved by children once or twice a month, a slow down from his previous life but not a stop. He was happiest being around kids!
Charlie was never cross, never mean, accepted and respected all horses, and was content to just hang out in the senior paddock and enjoy life. You couldn't help but slow down and appreciate his calm energy when around him, and he's going to leave a huge hole around the farm.
This summer, his heaves and age caught up to him, and he began dropping weight no matter how much we fed him, and we found that he had to be kept separate because the round bales caused him too much trouble breathing. He remained near his friends - particularly Phoebe- but in a separate pen where he would get his meds and good hay. He was content, but tired.
We knew we would be saying goodbye before winter, but he decided to change those plans. He was particularly close to Phoebe, who we lost last Monday due to the heat, and between her loss and the heat, he just lost the last bit of health and will. We made the call and scheduled his goodbye for tomorrow morning, but we didn't know if he'd make it that long. He waited just long enough for Tiffany to return from Tennessee to say goodbye on Saturday night, and crossed the bridge and left us by Sunday morning.
As always, we deal with our pain by imagining his new life, breathing freely, restored to health, and running in with our sky herd. We hope when he opened his eyes in greener pastures Phoebe - and any of the horses he knew and loved in his long life - was there to greet him. For us, it doesn't really feel like he's gone, but we know the numbness will fade. He made it easy to love, like i said, which means there's a lot of pain with his loss.
Our senior herd adjusts again, though we're starting to see some strain from all the losses. 30ish year old Dex started yelling when Plucky, in the stall next to her, laid down yesterday. Buddy bellowed loud when Shanno went to a different part of the pasture. They hurt, too, and have had an awful lot of losses in their pasture family lately too. When I found Charlie, I went to each of them, gave them scratches and love, and told them to not get any ideas. Nelly, Phoebe, and Charlie will wait. There's no need to rush to meet them.
With our super old herd and special needs, we've known for a while we were headed for a hard time with losses. This has definitely been that. Unfortunately, we have one more scheduled goodbye left this fall, and who knows what else will happen. But we'll keep on, drawing from all the lessons of peace and love that Charlie taught, and draw hope in the idea we will see them again one day.
Until that day, Charlie, fill up those lungs and run, and then rest easy with your friends. You were so very, very loved.