Shade's body is at rest, her spirit running free. Miskwaki flies alone now.

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

That photo is from two years ago almost to the day, June 29th, 2016. It's Miskwaki surrounded by his herd: Cree in the foreground with the fly mask, Shade to his right, Ice to his left. Miskwaki is the only one left now.

The guys with the excavating equipment showed up a little before nine. We had everything ready, and the guy operating the bucket dozer did an absolutely beautiful clean job. It was all done by ten, and Shade's body is at rest. Her spirit, of course, was already long gone, already galloping home to be with Cree and Ice.

For those of you wondering exactly what and why this happened, here's the short form, as well as we can piece it together. Shade was Cree's daughter, by a sire owned by a white woman a few miles away, a former friend of a former friend; the two conspired 17 years ago to convince Wings to breed Cree to that stallion. [Shade was born the year before I returned to New Mexico.] At the time, he had only recently adopted Cree, she seemed healthy, and he had no way of knowing that her previous circumstances, combined with her genes, would lead to her terrible founder and eventual Cushing's. Worse, he had no way of knowing of the irresponsible breeding practices involving the sire (the whole county knows it now, because it's been an ongoing thing, reportedly, with many horses involved, but we only learned of it after Shade was already between five and ten years old). So the bloodline was compromised, but we didn't know it.

Still, Shade had always been healthy as a . . . well, you know. She seemed to have inherited none of either parent's issues. About three years ago, she developed low-grade laminitis in her right front (the precursor to founder), but it was caught early and treated thoroughly. Meanwhile, despite Cree's terrible case of founder, having rotated all the way through both soles on the front, we were able, with a HUGE amount of work and dedication, to rebuild new healthy sole. We went through two solid years of constant, heavy-duty effort to save her, and she was doing great . . . until February 15th, 2016. She lost control of her hindquarters, with trembling and stumbling and impaired motor control, and it became clear there was something neurological at work. A little field-testing combined with location and other evidence, and the vet told us that that sort of behavior was a manifestation of a tumor or other mass pressing on the spinal cord. She would not get well, especially not given the founder and Cushing's, and sure enough, she went down that night. After Ice succumbed to a tumor-induced torsion in August, we had Shade and Miskwaki's labs done to try to prevent exactly this. Shade showed a slight elevation in liver enzymes, but nothing specific nor especially serious; I was more concerned about the incipient signs of Cushing's that she was exhibiting, despite the fact that that test came back negative (which can happen in its earlier stages, especially).

At any rate, a few months ago, Shade abraded her underside rather badly scratching on the stands of winter red willow. The vet thought it was allergy; we weren't so sure. I'm reasonably sure now that it was one or more tumors, even then; as in humans with certain cancers like lymphoma, some equine tumors can cause terrible itching to the skin. She was also showing more signs of Cushing's (topline weight loss, hirsutism, etc.), and her arteries and veins, particularly those on her belly, were consistently enlarged. For two years, she'd been having near-constant heats, which we were assured was not abnormal, but given her other adrenal issues, we now think that this was an early indicator. The vet had had her on two weeks' worth of SMZ, to which I think she reacted as part of the overall complex of disease running rampant through her body. By the time she colicked last week, with the right dorsal colon displacement, her enzymes were more elevated yet, with some other irregularities. But nothing could happen on any other front until the displacement got resolved, so we focused on that; meanwhile, an ultrasound of the liver showed blank black spots throughout what should have been a clean white line. We suspected masses, and the final diagnosis has been hepatocellular necrosis, whether of neoplastic origin or not, but we're sure she was neoplastic. In lay terms, that means the cells in her liver were dying off, secondary to one or more tumors. It was undoubtedly one of the tumors that caused the displacement, and one (possibly the same, growing, shifting one) that pressed on her spine yesterday and caused her to lose sensation and motor control in her back end.

Cancer is way, way up locally among horses across the board. One of our neighbors, who owns the Indian Horse Ranch just up the road from us, had the exact same thing happen with one of his stallions recently, and again, it was cancer that did it. It's a product of climate change, changes in contaminants and in what appears in the hay and their feed and the air and the level of sun exposure complicating everything. This is climate change up close and personal, and it's killing horses all over the county. In Shade's case, given the genetics involved, she didn't stand a chance once this thing, whatever it was, took hold. We're grateful that we could give her one last truly beautiful day, and then make sure that she started her journey in a single second, with no pain.

Our big worry now is Miskwaki. In under 17 months, he's gone from a herd of four to only himself, and he's grieving terribly. He called to her most of the night; he spent much of the morning with his face turned to the back wall of the stable. He's out grazing now, at least, but horses are herd animals, and he needs his herd more than most, given the terrible abuse that he suffered and the constant long-term loneliness and isolation. He will need a companion, a healthy one.

For now, though, he needs time to mourn, just as we do. It's easier now that the burial is over, but there's still a huge void here today. She was a strong personality, and that's a masterpiece of understatement. And now, there's a dark bay Shade-sized hole in our hearts, but she's headed for her blue, with her mother and her boy Ice, and Miskwaki and we will take care of each other until it's time to follow.



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