As a few of you have have noted, my post about Fitz’s arrival left the question of Nevada rather up in the air. That’s because the guy who dropped off Fitz actually offered to buy Nevada. He and his brothers train and ride performance horses. They have a stud and a small breeding program. Nevada came up during what I thought would be a simple hand-off of the new horse. But it turned out the guy liked her looks and her attitude and her papers. He was prepared to take her off our hands less than five minutes after I mentioned her in passing.
Brian was at work at the time. We hadn’t even made up our minds about what to do since learning Nevada was really and truly lame. So I dithered and said we’d think about it. In the week that followed, we proceeded to collect a few more opinions on the nature of Nevada’s lameness. We thought it over. We also dug up some old videos and realized Nevada has probably been lame longer than we initially thought. You can see it, just barely, in several bits of footage. The oldest was from nearly two years ago. It’s subtle, but it’s there. And this certainly explains why every time I climbed on her back recently it felt like something just wasn’t quite right.
Still, it was a hard decision to come to. Mostly it was hard because this was not the end of the story we first started dreaming up when Nevada arrived in our lives as a shiny, new, unstarted two-year-old.
But stories change
It was hard not to be enticed by the offer. We’ve been up to the place these guys run nearly half a dozen times over the years. All their horses are healthy and well cared for. Considering how unclear it is whether Nevada could ever be sound again, we finally decided to go for it.
It took a while to get our schedules lined up. Finally though, they came back to pick her up this morning. Brian, once again, had to work. So I went out one last time to get Nevada from the pasture where she’s lived her last five years. She was tucked in at the bottom of the gully with Steen and Fitz, with Rosa standing watch.
I think the hardest thing about moving horses is the feeling that you take away everything that is familiar, and they get no say in the matter. Nevada has friends in this herd. This is very nearly the only life she’s known. But she trusts me. So she let me catch her. If she picked up any weird vibes from me, it didn’t show. I took her inside, gave her a thorough grooming and a tiny little snack. Before I knew it, a trailer pulled in. Less than five minutes later, she was gone.
So we move on
It’s surreal. And as sad as it is, this does feels like closing the book on a difficult chapter in our horse lives. Piper was diagnosed with navicular, Laredo began to cough, and Nevada threw me all within a few weeks of each other. And since then it has felt like any forward motion with horses in general has been a struggle.
Things improved when Laredo left and then leapt forward when Fitz arrived. I’m hopeful Neveda embarking on her next chapter will be the final twist in the path that gets us into greener pastures for a while.