A Close Call

I wholeheartedly agree…about the neighbors. There is no way I could run my place with a full time job off the farm without neighbors to call on occasionally for help. When the horses are loose, someone always rounds them up. When my does birthing went bad a neighbor was there in a matter of minutes to lend a hand. When I had to put my old QH down, a neighbor was over with his backhoe within the hour. When I go out of town one of the neighbors kids mucks stalls for me and feeds the horses. The list goes on and on…I am very lucky and grateful. Glad your old guy is OK.

I’d also add that being observant of “changes” in our animals’ behaviors is another lesson. Often times it’s nothing but they are creatures of habit and can tip us off to a “problem” by changes in their activity.

Glad your old guy is back on his feet again!

I’ve been called out to a few of these when working for the animal hospital. It’s never fun and they never seem to be in an easy place to work, and then of course the trouble with machines and such. I’m glad you and yours made it out ok.

One thing that works really slick for supporting horses in any situation is old fire hose. Give yourself a laugh by asking your local fire department where you get find “Old hose.” I’ve found a million ways to use this stuff, but it’s great for lifting/ supporting horses.

Good story sean518. Glad it has a happy ending. Sometimes a neighbor can live 30 miles away. About 25 years ago or so we had moved to the other end of the county where we resided and had only been there for a short period of time when we had disaster strike. My wife and our children, then about 2 and 6 years old, had been visiting my in-laws for the week. I had been out of town on a business trip and got to the place just about sunrise. As I drove in I noticed all three of our horses were down. When I went over to investigate I found that the Morgan mare that my wife had owned for about 25 years, my Percheron mare and her 30 day old colt were all dead. It didn’t take long to realize that they had been huddled together in the pasture when a cold front moved through & lightning from the accompanying thunderstorm had stuck my mare and killed all three.

I tried to contact my wife to get her to stay at her parent’s house while I could get the horses taken care of, but when I called them I was told she had already left to come home. This was the days BCP, before cell phones, so I wasn’t able to reach her while she was in route home. I knew few people in that part of the county and none with a backhoe. I did know a guy named Harold in the area where we had previously lived that had one, but I was unsure about calling him to bury horses early on a Sunday morning since I didn’t know him real well. I did know that he would be heading to church soon, so I went ahead and called his house hoping to catch him before he left. I explained the situation and he said that he was willing to come bury them, but couldn’t be there before late in the day that afternoon or early on Monday morning. When he noticed that I was sort of quite about it he asked if that would be okay. I told him that my wife and children were on the way home and I was hoping to get the horses buried before they got there. He asked how long before they got home and when I said “2&1/2 or so more hours” he said in a very matter of fact fashion; “I’m on my way”.

Harold was at our gate in probably 45 minutes and was just finished placing the last of the backfill over the burial site when my wife turned down the lane. We were a sad family that week and it still bothers me to this day that I didn’t make plans to have the horses left up in the pens so our neighbor’s son could feed them while I was gone. However, it was springtime and the grass was already green so I reasoned that they were better off out on pasture. Just an unfortunate accident I guess, but that day I learned two things: 1) that I had a real friend in Harold and 2) that neighbors don’t necessarily have to live just across the fence.