As Thanksgiving rolls around, thinking about things I am hugely grateful for, Sandy comes to mind. Sandy arrived here in May 2017 and this stout little golden girl promptly captured our hearts.

I adopted Sandy from a Morgan rescue, which had saved her and our other adopted palomino Morgan, Stardust, from a dog food auction. The grapevine said Sandy and Stardust were part of a broodmare band whose owner died.

I knew right away that it was wrong separating Sandy from Stardust, who I had picked up two weeks earlier driving from Colorado to Utah in a spring blizzard. It broke me up to leave Sandy behind, I but self-corrected and 24 hours later, requested to adopt her, too. When the papers came through two weeks later, my beleaguered boyfriend Gregg and I drove from Colorado to Utah in yet another blizzard to retrieve Sandy. You should have seen the girls’ reunion! They remained herd-bound from then on.

Sandy, then in her 20’s, endeared herself to me by bucking me off the first time I climbed on bareback. I just assumed at that age she was trained to ride. Ha, ha.

When I did figure out how to ride Sandy, I found the smoothest horse I have ever ridden in my life, including my first horse, a bay Morgan/Quarter cross named Epa. (I was told Epa meant “hiccup” in some native tongue, although she never hiccuped around me. I’m thinking that was probably a story for a gullible 12-year-old girl.) Sandy paced, which contributed to her smoothness. Pacers simultaneously use their front and back legs on either side at the trot, instead of diagonally as most horses do. Imagine a couch on legs.

Hundreds of hours have been spent with Sandy carrying me around the place, ponying Stardust, who was a wee bit wild (less so now, thanks to my daughter Kalinda’s riding perseverance). We have adjusted many irrigation valves, moved hay bales to align with the hay stacker pick-up, and explored every inch of the property where a juicy green blade of grass might be hiding.

Once, our Poudre River Stables clients had the brilliant idea to ride east along the river trail and then cut south to Dazbog Coffee. A gang of us “parked” off the curb across from the coffee house, taking turns holding horses and going in to buy drinks. Railroad tracks ran about 100 feet away, and one of Fort Collins’ famous downtown-stopping trains rumbled toward us. Several horses spun around their owners, preparing for flight. Standing motionless, head up as it passed, Sandy stared the train down.

Sandy’s favorite beverage? “Sweet tea”: a bucket of water flavored with a handful of sweet feed that she could drink down to the bottom and slurp up the treat.

In August, while our friend and longtime farrier Tom Presgrove was here working with our horses, he and I noticed Sandy laying down. This turned into the classic colic symptoms of getting up, laying down again, looking at her stomach. Sandy had colicked once before. That was when we learned about the “sweet tea” for hydration.

Dr. Allen Landes, owner of Equine Medical Service, responded quickly and treated Sandy several times in the next 48 hours.

At one point we took her for a night trailer ride on dirt roads, cheered on by texts from our wonderful clients as we drove into the dark unknown. The trailer ride seemed to help. (Here is why: https://equusmagazine.com/horse-care/trailering/can-riding-in-a-trailer-bring-on-colic/)

However, Sandy’s progress halted, and Dr. Landes asked if she was a candidate for the Colorado State University Veterinary Teaching Hospital (CSU). I said yes, but no surgery at her age.

CSU discovered Sandy had developed a displaced colon and started her on IV fluids. She had also become dehydrated from not eating or drinking. The fluids would help weigh down the colon and make it move back into place.

Treatment evolved into days in the hospital. Every time my daughter and I visited, we had to ring a doorbell, be escorted through the cavernous intake area to the isolation area, suit up in gowns, gloves and plastic boot covers, and wade through germ-killing trays of liquid.

We experimented in the hospital stall with techniques from Jim Masterson’s book, “Beyond Horse Massage”. Sandy, off painkillers at this point, really relaxed under the Masterson “air-gap” techniques. This also gave us a concrete way to do something, anything helpful, while our beloved pony stood there, an IV hanging down from the white cinder-block stall ceiling, plugged into her neck. The only other horse Sandy could see was through two windows across the hall. It had a cardboard horse taped to its window for company. The stubborn colon remained displaced.

The hospital veterinarian on duty called one morning. Sandy’s colon had returned to its proper spot. But now Sandy showed symptoms of salmonella.

Tests would take days to confirm, and Sandy would have to go on new treatments and remain in the hospital. If it was salmonella, her gut might never be the same even if she recovered. I made the decision that still wrecks me.

A few hours later, I led Sandy to the back of the hospital building. She thought she was free, and eagerly munched on a patch of lawn in the parking area. We were accompanied by the veterinarian and two technicians. Eyes brimming, I signed the papers.

We walked over to the asphalt by the big dumpsters. Sandy stared them down. As I said goodbye, the veterinarian injected her.

***

My only regret about Sandy is that I didn’t know her sooner. None of us will forget her stalwart, bright-eyed, unsinkable presence. Queen Elizabeth wasn’t the only one who got a rainbow. The day Sandy died, a rainbow appeared over her stall at our place.

Besides Sandy’s role here as Chief Executive Mental Health Professional (CEMHP), Sandy taught Stardust that people are not all bad, their games can be fun, and touching and attention make horses feel better.

Apologies for not letting Sandy’s fans know sooner, but it took me this long to write this. I hope I have done her justice.

Sandy’s gifts continue to grow. A couple of weeks after she died, a less herd-bound Stardust, who always enjoys “chatting” with passersby over her stall door, accepted the title of CEMHP (as long as it includes carrots).

Stardust and I have taken up Dressage. We completed Amelia Newcomb’s 30 days to Round Challenge in October and those ground exercises gave us a new way to communicate.

Riding these days is, I have to say, more athletic than my vacation with Sandy. A certain human will be getting in shape.

Stardust, always the drama queen, worries when she can’t solve the problem and seems proud when she performs well. With her, cues are more of a thought than an actual movement. And, most important, Stardust honors tradition and lets me snuggle my face into her throatlatch.

And we joined the year-long Strides program. Our goal: Keep the magic growing.

Thank you, Sandy.