Re: Death Visits Ridecamp

["Celia Krall" <celiak@pcrs.net>]

For crying out loud in the sink, Howard, is Dance okay????

----------
> From: Howard4567@aol.com
> To: ridecamp@endurance.net
> Subject: RC:  Death Visits Ridecamp
> Date: Tuesday, March 21, 2000 9:14 AM
> 
> Death Visits Ridecamp
> 
> Last Saturday night, sitting under a tree, shivering in the cold, holding
a 
> lead rope attached to Dance Line's halter, I didn't think I'd ever be
writing 
> an endurance tale again.  Ever.  I figured this would be my last night
with 
> my favorite horse, my best friend, the last time I would do the one sport
I 
> love more than any other.  Things were not good and the prognosis was
grim.  
> Dance had a tube in his nose, down his throat and into his stomach. Two
large 
> IV bottles hung from a tree branch overhead with tubes running  to a
needle 
> inserted in his neck, recently shaved.  Death was paying a visit to my
horse, 
> and no matter what we did to get rid of him, it looked like this
unwelcomed 
> guest was not going to leave.  And it was all my fault.
> 
> I should try and warn you, upfront, that this might not be a happy story.
 I 
> doubt that I'll be able to get you to laugh.  I'll try and throw some
humor 
> in once in a while, for old times' sake, but I have a feeling that it
won't 
> be the same.  I don't want to make you cry, that's not my intention. 
And, 
> maybe, most of you won't.  You're probably better equipped to handle
death 
> than me; I'm weak when it comes to such things.  But you see, the Vet has

> just told me that Dance Line probably is not going to make it, I'm stuck
here 
> under this tree for most of the night, friends and some total strangers
are 
> coming up to me, giving me condolences, tears are running down the front
of 
> my face, and if I speak, sobs will come bursting out and I just don't
think 
> I'll be able to find anything funny to say.  And please don't put your
hand 
> on my shoulder or give me a hug, cause I'll lose it completely if you do.
 
> Death is hovering above, just to the left of the IV bottles there, and he
has 
> no sense of humor tonight.
> 
> A close friend has just taken Jennifer to her campsite at my request; I 
> really don't want her with me and Dance right now.  Seven years ago we
had 
> lost a horse, under similar circumstances and I couldn't get Jen back on
one 
> for over a year after that experience.  I told myself that if it ever 
> happened again I would have to get out of the horse business completely. 
I 
> know death is a part of life, I just don't want it to be part of mine
when I 
> can avoid it.  If you don't own a horse you won't have to watch it die. 
Or 
> live with yourself at the thought of having been the one who opened the
barn 
> door and let Death in.
> 
> As I sit here in my camping chair, shivering from the cold, looking at 
> Dance's face, neck drooping with his head hung down low, I reflect on
this 
> weekend, my life, my soul.  I stand up, hold his head in my arms, look
into 
> his eyes filled with pain and I cry like a baby. You see, he's shivering
too 
> due to the IV, even though we have two blankets on him.  The vet told me
this 
> would happen.   I'm alone, it's late, my friends and the Doc have left me
for 
> a while, to say Good-bye to my best buddy.  And I can't let go.
> 
> Till tonight I thought I was an atheist, a nonbeliever.  But I really
don't 
> want to live without this guy, so I look up and I ask.  I actually have
the 
> audacity to ask a really big favor from one whom I've denied most of my
life. 
>  How did I get to this point, here with my best friend, who will be lucky
if 
> he sees the sunrise tomorrow?  
> 
> The ride started out like any other.  I did the packing thing, put duck
tape 
> around the lid of my cooler to keep it shut, you've heard it all before. 

> Nothing abnormal.  Except for one thing.  My wife and I have started this

> tradition.  My idea actually.  We make sure we have sex the night before
I 
> leave for the ride.  She doesn't want me going there horny with all those

> women nearby.  Haha, like I'd have a chance with any of them anyway. 
Well, 
> on the night before I leave for this ride, we break tradition.  It
doesn't 
> happen.  Is that how Death got thru my door and into my house?  I don't
know.
> 
> The ride was to be our first attempt at a 50 miler.  We thought we were
all 
> ready.  I knew Jennifer was and felt Rebel would be fine.  It was Dance
and 
> myself that concerned me.  But we had all done so well at the Far Out
Forest 
> ride and completed 35 miles, I figured we were ready to step up.  To join
the 
> big boys (even though they're mostly women) of the endurance world.  To
do a 
> true endurance 50 mile run (American Endurance Ride Conference term, not 
> mine).  I knew that the footing in South Carolina would be different from
the 
> sandy Florida soil.  I thought this would be to my horses' advantage. 
But 
> then again, I could be wrong.
> 
> Because the ride was in South Carolina, I even left a day earlier than 
> normal.  I didn't want the horses to be tired from the 8 hour anticipated

> trailer ride.  I had done rides this distance away from my house before
and 
> have learned that if you can take the extra time it pays off.  Plus, you 
> usually get a great camping spot, close to the vet in area, which is
where I 
> wanted to be.  This would give me time to set up and talk with Jennifer
about 
> our plan of attack.  I didn't want to race too fast for our first 50, but
if 
> Angie was going to be here I wanted to give her a run, at least the first

> loop or two.  I had heard she might be at this ride and was hoping to see
her 
> again.  I had even packed my hard cup from my ball playing days, just in
case 
> she was planning on throwing any low ball elbows my way.
> 
> I went through the Florida Agricultural Station without losing my temper.
 I 
> still wonder why we seem to be the only state on the East coast that has
this 
> requirement.  Even Europe is getting rid of the border crossings; why
does 
> leaving or entering Florida, with a horse, require extra documentation
and 
> take up so much time?  A young woman waited on me and I couldn't help but

> notice her last name was Hicks.  So apropos for this part of Florida and
her 
> line of work.  I did chuckle a bit, but then looked at her gun to get my
mind 
> off her name and avoid her asking me what was so dang funny.
> 
> It rained during the drive, the traffic though Columbia wasn't too bad
but 
> every time someone cut me off  I did use Angie's name in vain.  It's a
new 
> habit I've started and Jennifer keeps asking me who Angie is; she doesn't

> remember her from the Haihira ride.  Just as well, it's a private thing I

> want to keep to myself.  
> 
> While driving on the interstate, just outside Charlotte, I tried to pass
this 
> wide load trucker who was driving down the middle of the highway blocking

> both lanes with this trailer thing he was hauling.  I call it a trailer 
> thing, but it actually looked like half of a prefabricated house and when
you 
> put the two pieces together you produce a Redneck Convention Center.  I
was 
> in the right lane and cars were along side of me in the left.  We were
all 
> following this trucker since he wasn't leaving us much choice.  Suddenly
the 
> other cars decided to form a single line behind the trucker, not sure
why, it 
> was kind of like cattle forming a line behind the leader.  This guy next
to 
> me decides to join the line and moves closer to me, like I'm not even
there.  
> I blast my air horn and instead of yelling Angie at him, I use the real 
> thing.  He gets so close to my rig I feel the horses move in the trailer 
> bracing themselves for contact.  By this time I realize I just missed my
exit 
> off the interstate and had to get off and go back the other way.
> 
> I find the right exit and get to the camp just before sunset.  I spot a
large 
> barn type building and see the familiar colored tape marking off the vet 
> check areas.  Only a few riders are here so I park next to a really nice
rig 
> with a row of trees between us. I didn't know how valuable one of these
trees 
> would become later this week end.  
> 
> As I'm unloading and setting up the portable corral, I spot Susan on the 
> other side of the road. She sees me and before she has a chance to run
off I 
> yell, "Is the witch here?"  There were a few other women scattered around
me, 
> also setting up their campsites, who happened to hear me ask this
question.  
> I think they thought I used the "B" word when I said witch.  They all
kind of 
> gave me "the look."  Susan laughs and says, "Angie couldn't make it.  She

> says if she's not here you'll never beat her at a ride."  Haha, I'm sure 
> Angie's worried about that one.
> 
> It's a bit misty out, been raining most of the day, but not a hard rain. 
Red 
> Georgia clay is on the ground even though we are in South Carolina. I get
the 
> horses out, put the tent up with Jennifer's help, and we wander around to

> inspect our new neighborhood before it gets dark outside.  A group of six
or 
> so riders are huddled together under an awning to keep them out of the
rain.  
>  Susan is in the group and says, "OK, he's here, guess we'd better quit 
> talking about him."  She happens to be a close friend of Angies.  In
spite of 
> this, Susan has told others that she actually likes me.  Tolerate is
probably 
> a better word.
> 
> Anyway they all invite me to sit with them and we introduce ourselves.  
> Jennifer runs off to find one of her friends who just pulled in.  During
the 
> different topics of conversation I find out Susan actually had a heart
attack 
> at one of these rides.  A for real heart attack, paramedics, trip to the 
> hospital, all that stuff.  Talk about your die hard endurance rider!  
> 
> Then somehow the subject gets to sex.  I get tempted to tell them about
my 
> tradition with my wife, the night before I leave for a ride, but decide
to 
> listen instead.  Susan starts telling us about her husband's new habit of

> buying Viagra.  I find the subject interesting cause I see hope in my
future, 
> when my time comes, to continue the pursuit of.......well, you understand
I'm 
> sure.  A person in the group asks Susan how often her husband takes the 
> pills.  She says, "Oh, he don't take them, he sells them to all his
buddies.  
> Doctor gave him a prescription, insurance pays for everything, and his 
> friends all love the darn things."  I had to turn my head so I didn't
spit 
> out beer on anyone, I was laughing so hard.  Susan may just be funnier
than 
> her friend Angie.  
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
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