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Horse stories of a different color (#2)

Second story about horses that have died on our property Wow, two horse stories in a row in this normally contemplative blog. Don’t worry, we’ll return you to your regularly scheduled programs tomorrow. Yesterday’s blog was about Cody’s Christmas “homegoing.” The following year, it seemed we ha…
By Seth Barnes

Second story about horses that have died on our property

Wow, two horse stories in a row in this normally contemplative blog. Don’t worry, we’ll return you to your regularly scheduled programs tomorrow.

Yesterday’s blog was about Cody’s Christmas “homegoing.” The following year, it seemed we had started a morbid Christmas tradition. Cody’s companion, Ginger, had been teetering for some time and eventually keeled over. I guess when you’re a 31 year-old mare, that’s like 124 people years.

The fact of the horse’s demise is a sad thing, but the task of disposing of the body had become a bad joke around here. A dog or a cat or a guinea pig requires a few spade-fulls of dirt. But a horse! That’s an all-day Saturday project. Wanting to find a shortcut, we began to think seriously about creative alternatives to digging in the red Georgia clay.

One of the advantages of living in the country is that nobody, save the UPS man, ever sees the strange things like washing machines on your porch, or your attempts to build a funeral pyre for very large family pets.

Fortunately, Ginger conked out right by a pile of wood we intended to burn. So, we just moved all the wood over on top of her. Problem solved, right?

After an hour, all we had was a really stinky, charcoal-black animal.

So we kept piling on the wood.

Abby, our mutt-dog, figured that we were preparing the most incredible barbecue feast of all time and stood guard by the smoldering carcass and smiled at us when we’d come by to check on things.

At this point, we were committed to a course of action and determined to see it through, which we did. It was sad, macabre, and funny all at the same time. It reminded me of that scene in “National Lampoon’s Family Vacation” where their great aunt dies while they’re driving thru the West and, not knowing what else to do, they strap her to a chair on top of the roof. Ungainly and unseemly, but strange circumstances cause you to consider behavior that civilized people don’t discuss.

And then there was the aftermath. We had to keep warding Abby away from Ginger’s ashes. Did you know that the hip bone is the last thing to go in the cremation process?  We ended up just burying it.

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