Jan. 11, 2009 ~ Sophie
She was only a part of our family since April, but for such a tiny horse, she made a big impression. She was feisty and brave, letting the big horses know who was boss. She was. Without a doubt. She was kind and gentle with humans, though. Actually, she was kind and gentle with the other horses, as long as they showed her the proper respect.
A couple of weeks ago, she was out in the pasture grazing with the other horses, just like any other time, only this particular day there were hunters in the woods next door. Our neighbor has been having terrible problems with feral hogs. Wild hogs are dangerous and destructive, and have done thousands of dollars of damage to his property. Neighbor had tried trapping them, with little success. He finally called in "the big guns," so to speak. Hunters with dogs specially trained to go after hogs. They are bulldogs and bulldog/pit bull mixes. They've been trained to be around livestock, trained to do them no harm. So it's still a mystery why they spotted little Sophie, grazing with the other horses, and decided she was prey. She's not the right color or shape to resemble a hog, so we don't really know what possessed the hog dogs to cross the property line, go under the fence, and attack Sophie.
The dogs' owner behaved bravely and with honor, literally coming to Sophie's rescue, pulling the dogs off of her. He could have been seriously injured in doing so. His six-year old daughter happened to be with him and saw the whole thing. She, owning ponies herself, was quite shaken up and upset. The hunters were terribly upset. When I got home from work that night and a strange truck followed me home, I was a little concerned myself. The driver asked if we owned a miniature horse, and then he told me the story. He apologized profusely, and said he was there to do whatever he could to help. He had gone to his home and gotten his trailer, so he could take her to the vet. The two hunters and I walked out to the pasture where Sophie stood, bloodied and shaking, going into shock. Badly injured. I said I thought we might have to have her put down. The dog's owner shed a few tears.
The vet said he thought she could be saved, though it would take a very long time for her to heal up. Infection was always a possibility. But he thought she deserved a chance.
She had emergency surgery that night. Husband, the dogs' owner and I stood there for hours while the vet and his assistant struggled to save her. Finally, I told the hunter that it would be okay for him to go home, that Husband was there (Husband had met us at the clinic; he was on his way home from work when this happened.) We had exchanged phone numbers, and he made it clear to the vet that he would be responsible for all charges.
Sophie did well at first, but the stitches on two of her major wounds did not hold. One large wound was already open, there not being enough skin left to stitch it shut. Infection set in. Her appetite waned. She was clearly depressed and in pain, despite her pain medicine. I was given total access to the barn, and allowed to visit daily, even after office hours or on days they were closed. I visited her every day, for which I am grateful. I did not want her to feel abandoned or alone. I always told her that we loved her and wanted her to get well. I took her sliced apples to eat. In the beginning she ate greedily and with gusto. On Friday she ate only one slice of apple. Yesterday I went to the feed store and bought some fancy-shmancy horse treats, hoping they would do the trick, and get her interested in eating again.
Sophie was excited by the smell of the treats, but didn't eat them. She sniffed at me, nuzzled me, and followed me around, though, something she hadn't done for awhile. Her ears perked up and she seemed happy to see me. Finally, she was in a better mood.
Early this morning the vet called to let us know that Sophie had passed away during the night. His voice broke when he shared the news. He had been at the clinic about 10:45 p.m., doing an emergency surgery, and had checked on Soph before he went home. She was up and alert, drinking water. He does not know exactly what happened. He'd done a bunch of blood tests on Friday, and nothing really jumped out at him. The numbers seemed okay. Though the infection seemed limited just to her wounds, it's possible that one of the dog bites pierced her belly, and peritonitis set in.
I do know that Sophie was in pain, despite everyone's best efforts, and her suffering has ended. They took wonderful care of her at the clinic. She was treated with special care and attention. I don't think there is anything else they could have done. I am very grateful for all their loving care and kindness.
The hunter has called every couple of days to check on Sophie. He has made good on his promise to pay her bills. He did so without complaint, apologizing again and again. I tried calling him a little while ago, but there was no answer and no voice mail. So unless he sees the caller ID and calls me back, he'll call me at work tomorrow or the next day, and I'll have to tell him then. I know this will break his heart.
I do have some perspective on this. A friend's mother died last week. An acquaintance lost her 17 year old daughter in a car accident. So I know things could be much worse.
But here at the farm, our hearts are heavy. We look out the back door and there is no little Sophie in her pen. Since I can't imagine a Heaven without animals, I hope she is running free and without pain, in green pastures where the dogs are all friendly. Where there are plenty of apples and horse treats and lots of horse friends to boss around.
Sophie, we miss you, little girl.
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