The Slings and Arrows

Phoenix and Hoss meet

Exhausted and in horrible pain, Phoenix slowly walked beside me, dragging the toe of his right front foot. Ever willing, ever strong, in spite of his severely broken elbow he followed me wheresoever I chose to take him. I brought him to the chosen spot, and we waited for Dr. Smith. With gentle and sure hands, Dr. Smith gave Phoenix his release from pain, release from life.

Two days earlier, in what can only be described as a vicious attack, Tahoe chased Phoenix to the bottom of the pasture. Once he had cornered Phoenix, Tahoe turned about and began kicking. I witnessed the attack, but was too far away to intercede. By the time I ran in to the pasture, Phoenix was running toward me on three legs.

At that moment, the first thing that sprang into my head was that his leg was broken. In faint hope, I removed Phoenix from the pasture and put him in a corral next to Hoss. I gave him food and made sure he had water. There was a small wound on his elbow that bled freely for several minutes. I treated the obvious wound, blanketed him, gave him some Banamine, and headed out for bell choir rehearsal.

On Tuesday the swelling was quite evident. Phoenix still would not bear weight. He would move his hind feet forward, then hop his left foreleg up. I wrapped his legs to help prevent supporting leg injuries, and gave him more Banamine.

For two days, I watched my little horse struggle to make his way from one end of the 12 by 24 corral to get from food to water and back to the shared panel with Hoss. Hoss stood near him all the time, reaching through the panels to gently groom Phoenix.

By Wednesday night, I knew I needed a vet. I went out to tend to Phoenix, and decided to try to bend his elbow. I gently manipulated the joint, and it quickly became evident that the likelihood was it was broken.

I went in the house and looked up the vet's number. Within an hour, Dr. Smith was here, and he confirmed my worst fears.

Phoenix and "volunteer" daughter, Celeste

I purchased Phoenix on October 2, 1998, for $600. He was three years old. My friend, Tina, had heard he was for sale, and brought him to my attention. Something about the little guy attracted me. Somehow, he was meant to be mine.

We spent many wonderful years together, but there were the exasperating times, too. I recall – with some fondness, now – the many trail rides during which I could be heard to mutter, "Goddamn it, Phoenix!" repeatedly. He was headstrong and willful. He was also smart and dependable. More than once he was able to keep us from becoming stuck or injured.

Phoenix had a gallop to make me feel like we flew. When I got a GPS, I clocked him at speeds upwards of 25 mph, even up hills. And yet, even when he ran full out, I always knew I could pull him down if I needed do. We were truly a team.

Phoenix and Celeste at Manzanita, 2008

Over the years, we spent many miles together. He carried me for 305 limited distance miles. We only completed one 50 mile ride together. Between his poor conformation, and the simple fact that I was far heavier than he should have been expected to carry, it was not to be. Still, he went forward eagerly and with a will. His last 80 limited distance miles he carried my "volunteer" daughter, a close friend of my daughter's. His last competition was a ride and tie, his first and, sadly, last, and he loved it.

There is a hole in my heart tonight where my beloved Phoenix once lived. I desperately miss his presence in this world, in my yard. It is said you only get one great horse. I no longer believe this is true, since Hoss walked in to my life, but I know that Phoenix was the best thing that ever happened to me. He taught me the ropes of endurance riding and gave me many fond memories. Without Phoenix, I would not now be competing in endurance, and I would not have Hoss.

I feel truly blessed to have had Phoenix. He taught me things I would have learned no other way.

Good bye, my sweet, annoying, loving, funny Phoenix.