Sad Goodbye to Major

This morning I had to say goodbye to my sweet gelding, Major.  With no clear diagnosis despite many tests and after a month of fighting dramatic weight loss, muscle wasting, and severe neurological symptoms that didn't respond to any treatment, we put him down this morning at eighteen years old.  I was standing next to him just before we gave him his final injection, and he curled his neck around me and let me hug his face.  He nuzzled me as he cradled me in his neck, as if to say it was all okay, he was ready to rest.  Major was truly an Iron Horse, working hard and being successful in every aspect of his life.  Or as the vet put it today, he may have been more of a tungsten horse, since he was probably tougher than iron.  Major started life in Kentucky and raced on the tracks there until he was nine, winning huge sums of money over the years.  He retired sound from racing.  Then he went on to be a successful jumper, then an eventer, and after I retired him from eventing he became a phenomenal dressage mount, a quiet trail horse, and my pony horse for starting youngsters.  In his last year or two he even taught some lessons to my more advanced riders, and finally even to a ten year old rider.  He was SO careful with her and gentle for handling and riding.  It's an impressive resume for any horse, and he really exemplified what a thoroughbred is capable of.

When I met him for the first time at a jumping clinic at CSU he was owned by a friend of mine.  I saw his athleticism and how hot he was and instantly became one of his fans.  A few years later I had the opportunity to purchase him and I very eagerly did so!  I discovered his specific preferences for cushy, padded tack including bridles, saddle pads, and girths.  He also demanded the very softest of brushes and curry combs for his sensitive self.  I evented him through training level, and then when some mild arthritis in his hocks started to bother him at age sixteen I retired him from jumping.  He took me to clinics with two olympic coaches, one for jumping (Daniel Stewart) and one for dressage (Jane Savoie).  He helped me start several young horses under saddle, ponying them with me around the arena, pastures, and trails.  He was a steady, confident trail horse and we logged many miles around northern colorado.  He was my "go to" when I needed a finished horse to take youngsters out on the trails, and he was the horse to whom I turned when I wanted to improve my own riding skills.  Everywhere we went people commented on what an amazing mover he was, and how athletic he was.  He was always a gentleman under saddle, with the height, conformation, and presence to make anyone take pause to appreciate him.  It didn't matter if he was in a jumping saddle, a dressage saddle, or an aussie saddle, he always worked hard and did his job well.  Even when we would have a wild round over fences or in a dressage test I felt privileged and honored to have him in my barn, and he always made me remember why I prefer off-track thoroughbreds as my own horses.  I love him dearly and I'll miss him terribly, but I will always feel like I received a gift from God when I put him in my trailer that first sunny afternoon.