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Today I write to tell you the sad news that Phoenix, TGC’s recent
rescue, has passed away. I can’t tell you too much about Phoenix’s past, because the three
conversations I had, and one Helen DeLatte had with the prior owner contained many inconsistencies.
I’d like to tell you what I know from personal experience with and observation of Phoenix, formerly
"Arizona Highway".
When I went to get Phoenix, I found a 17 hand white, lightly fleabitten
Thoroughbred gelding, who was little more than a skeleton with skin. He was an anatomy lesson -
everything you never wanted to know about a horse’s bone structure, laid out to be seen and felt.
He was in a dirty pen with the remnants of poor quality stalky alfalfa, and a single 5 gallon
bucket of dirty water. He was filthy himself, having obviously not been groomed in ages, and
although his feet were short, it appeared they were so more because he wasn’t getting enough
nutrition to grow feet than because they’d been trimmed. His teeth were horrible looking - with
almost no upper front teeth due to cribbing, and very long lower front teeth as a result - but the
molars did meet, enabling him to grind his food, if he’d just been given some.
In the first 20 minutes, Phoenix circled me as I stood in the center of
his pen. I offered a carrot, and Mike and Helen stood outside the pen offering the same. He wanted
the food, but was wary. The owners were there too - and he never even looked at them. Phoenix then
displayed his most defining characteristic - his courage. Despite his concerns and fears, he slowly
approached me and stood to be petted - and DID NOT take the carrot. I knew then this was a horse
who needed help, who didn’t understand why his life was so horrible, and wanted someone to care for
him. He did nibble the carrot and got carrots from Helen and Mike, and then came back to me for his
halter. With Mike and Andy’s help lifting his weak back end, he was able to get into the trailer.
He came with us willingly - as things turned out, that’s an important memory for me.
At TGC, he wobbled out of the trailer and lifted his head at the
welcome sight of 23 fat happy curious horses, of every color, size and importantly, sexes. We
housed him in a temporary enclosure which abutted Falcon, Orion and Andy’s stalls. The first week
he seemed to frail for me to allow him into the herd, but he cried and cried for them when each
morning they said hi to him and then filtered out to the main paddock, leaving him behind. I
finally gave in to his pleas, and with Mike, Alex, Mary and I standing by to get him out of any
jams, we let him out to join the herd. O, did his courage and spirit show that day - he was head
high, tail flipped up, moving with a ghost of his former glory, first around the fringes of the
herd, and then deftly cutting Sunny out to be his girl. PC didn’t much like that, but Phoenix never
offered violence to him, simply insinuated himself between PC and Sunny insistently, until PC gave
up. For three days, Phoenix kept it up and then, when I went to let him out, he looked at me like I
was crazy. He was just too exhausted - he didn’t have what it took to mingle any longer, and he now
knew it..
Each day thereafter, I opened his stall when I went to clean, throwing
him a feed outside his stall to lure him out, and he would wander the stall line keeping close to
me while I worked. Each night, when the herd came back to their stalls for dinner, Phoenix would
call for Inch, with whom he became enamored, and in the last two weeks of his life, he would stick
his head out of his stall as I came down the line with dinner, urging me to hurry up.
The first two months, I worried greatly because it didn’t seem that he
was gaining any weight. But reading has indicated to me that he was healing, and probably replacing
the fat layer around his internal organs. He did show increased energy and alertness, and began to
move more easily despite having obvious structural problems in his back end. In his next two
months, he began to develop actual muscle mass, and when he hurt himself (which he seemed prone to)
his owies would heal much much faster. At this point I began to see what a beautiful horse he had
once been, with a coat of white satin, made more glorious by his little brown freckles.
He stood quietly to get his feet trimmed; he obviously knew about being
groomed and bathed and loved it. Yvonne Murray fell in love with him and came several times just to
groom and hand walk him. Nick Cuevas gave him a bath also, and many others checked with me
constantly to see how he was and what his progress was. At first he was nervous around other people
- when he would look over at me, I wondered if he thought I was looking to sell him - but he began
to enjoy his visitors, and began to show them little signs of affection and interest. (Notably
absent were inquiries from his former owners, who had provided me with an email address which never
worked, to "keep them informed".)
Although I continued to worry (his progress was steady but very slow)
about whether I would be able to get him through the rough Anza winters, still hope grew in my
heart with each week that passed and I saw little signs of improvement.
It was one of those encouraging signs which ultimately cost Phoenix his
life. I could see that Phoenix was finally laying down and getting up on his own which made me feel
his back end problems may not be as bad as they looked. But then came the morning, September 17,
when we found Phoenix cast in his stall. It is possible that Phoenix had a stroke, or simply a bad
fall, which caused him to go down in the enclosed portion of his stall. Up to that day, he had
always laid down in the open portion of his stall. Mike found him wedged in the corner of his
stall, obviously in a very bad way. We tore the stall apart to get him room to rise, but he
continued to be unable to do so. When Dr. Zadick arrived, he looked immediately worried, and began
to get me ready for the worst. His observations were that Phoenix didn’t have proper motor control
of his legs; that either Phoenix had had a stroke, or some injury incurred while down, possibly a
reinjury of some sort, had damaged his spine.
I insisted we had to give him a chance - we gave him pain killers,
electrolytes and fluid for strength as he was a little dehydrated, and the doctor checked to be
sure he wasn’t colicking as well. But it was a Wednesday, in the middle of the day, and I couldn’t
find help to get him on his feet - and in the next three hours, after a brief rest, I watched him
try and try to stand, without success. I tried to help him - bracing him more or less on his
sternum thinking that after a brief rest he could go the rest of the way up, but he couldn’t do it.
Again his courage showed itself - he would rest, and then try, rest and then try, rest and then
try. He let me syringe water down his throw, and he laid calmly between efforts, but those efforts
were progressively weaker. He never panicked - but I could see he was afraid and confused about why
he couldn’t get up. I groomed him, and held his head in my lap between efforts, and did all I could
to make him comfortable before Mike could return home from work, and end his pain.
I must honestly admit that I made a mistake in not letting the doctor
put him down immediately. I put him through three hours of hell because I couldn’t admit that he
had no chance, the damage was done. I had lost so many friends this summer, that I suspect it
clouded my judgment, and I am sorry for it.
Phoenix was harder to lose than Joey, Andy or Domino, because he never
had a chance to enjoy TGC the way they had. The only thing I can truly offer these old and disabled
horses is a chance at a proper, horse like life. Plenty to eat and drink - protection from the
harsher elements - and most importantly, some freedom and some equine companionship which so many
of them missed out on during their working careers. In the case of horses like Bonnet, Teke and
Phoenix, I had a chance to remind them that all people are not mean, bad or careless, that many of
us do value them and appreciate all they bring to our lives. I would have loved to have given
Phoenix more.
Today, one of my young volunteers and Mike will put up Phoenix’s
nameplate in the memorial garden, and hopefully he will join the other ex-residents of TGC in a
happy carefree horse heaven. But his courage and spirit will not be forgotten
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