How Long Must Animals Suffer?

And yes, in Colorado it is perfectly legal.

Warning: I’m writing about death because I hope to make peace. If you have had an exhausting week, please stop reading. I would hate to make people cry. But sometimes I need to talk it out to let it go.

Some backstory: We live on a dirt road in a section of small farms on the Colorado prairie. Neighbors don’t get into each other’s business, but we help each other when asked. Two horses lived on the property across the road. One had a horribly blown knee and limped badly for a decade before it died, almost two years ago now. Afterward, the lone horse stood by the road, calling to my horses. He was a small chestnut horse who ran the fence-line until he lost hope of company. His health had been in serious decline for the last year, at least. Rail thin, but even in the heat of summer, his coat was thick and long, a sign of Cushing’s, a malady that plagues many senior horses. We could all see him struggling as we drove by.

It is a survival instinct for a horse to hide their pain, so by the time they show us, it’s serious. He used to swing his head to look at me when I opened my gate, but now he was too weak and dull to even lift his head. He stood in one place all day. I took photos of the pitiful horse in case law enforcement would need them. I won’t share them here. We know his suffering. Instead, I chose a photo of horses grazing in a green pasture with a glorious sunset behind. I want to imagine the little chestnut healed and knee-deep in grass, somewhere beyond human cruelty.

Earlier that day, I’d called another neighbor on the road. I had a plan. I would give her money to buy the chestnut horse. If it worked, she would take him home, and I’d get a vet out for euthanizing. We knew it was the only way to help the horse.

If I had asked, the horse-owner wouldn’t have agreed. We had history. I’d gotten a restraining order because of the threats made against me after I offered to help build a dog yard. I spoke up when their dog was killing goats and fighting with other dogs. We all had vet bills, and the sheriff recommended shooting the dog when it came on my property. I couldn’t imagine that would help matters. And their dog chased their own horses, even through fences.

But my neighbor told me someone already tried to talk to the horse-owner, but it went badly. It had come to a breaking point and four neighbors had called the sheriff about the horse in the last two days. Deputies would be out soon. She thought it was too late for my buy-out plan. I was proud of my neighbors. You can grow numb to passive, but sustained, cruelty, and no one wanted to draw the ire of his owner.

Later that day, my boarder was grooming her horse, preparing to ride. I was catching up with her eight-year-old daughter when a truck and flatbed trailer pulled up to the horse-owner’s driveway and into the pen. I noticed, but it wasn’t unusual. They led the old horse toward the flatbed, but the horse moved so slowly that even then, I didn’t guess. We heard three shots and saw the horse instantly drop. Part of me wanted to cheer that the horse was finally free. Instead, I explained euthanizing to a horse-crazy girl who had some very serious questions.

It felt like the horse-owner had shot the horse in such a visible location to get back at us for calling. If so, we would do it again. The killing method horrified some neighbors. Done correctly, it shouldn’t take three shots, but maybe this is the best we could hope for. They hauled the body away before the deputies got there.

I’ve watched several horses come and go from that property over the years. The dogs seem to almost change with the seasons, but there is still no fence. Some got hit by cars, others disappeared. It’s understandable that sometimes people with good intentions fall into hard times and can’t care for their animals as they’d like. I am curious why someone like this would keep getting animals. This was more like intentional neglect. His physical decline was steady and had to be as obvious to his owner as it was to the neighbors who didn’t have horses. He was lost in plain sight.

It’s been four months now and no new horses have arrived. Maybe the little chestnut is haunting the pasture. You wouldn’t think I would miss him so much, but I still look for him. Still glad he is out of pain and spared the winter.

Some folks want their animals to have a “natural” death, but that doesn’t guarantee it would be quick or painless for the animal. Maybe we secretly hope they will die on their own, so we don’t have to screw up the courage to make the call. Maybe if we wait, we won’t have the vet bill.

Some animals in pain become aggressive, but most often they seem to become especially sweet. It’s what we love about elders, but it also distracts us from their suffering. Our love blinds us to their quality of life. But I can’t look away. I’m much more concerned about suffering than death.

Death is a hiccup. A turn in the road. It’s a moment that cannot blot out a lifetime of moments. Death has bullied us into thinking it’s the monster waiting in the dark. It wants us to think it’s a god deserving of our fear. Death is a false idol, as unavoidable as gravity. But we have a choice about everything else. We can choose mercy.

As I write this, I’m grateful to have a little dog under my desk, more loyal than most friends. We have had long years together. He’s become ancient with a complicated list of infirmities. We both know his best days are not ahead. The chronic condition of old dogs is that they get underfoot, so I’m happy to walk slower and watch where I step. He moves as if he’s in a fog, but is also undeniably sweeter than ever. I ask myself, “How long must he suffer?”

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43 thoughts on “How Long Must Animals Suffer?”

  1. Yes. *sigh* This is a constant battle I fight with my boss, bless her in every way. She’s sooo blind to her old horses. Yes, willing to keep and care for all of her horses, long past any usefulness when many would discard them for inability to work. Yet, her willingness to keep them goes too far some days. So many are tired beyond needing a good night of sleep. And I’m emotionally exhausted just watching them. Why is death such a dirty word? Why can’t people see the peace?

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    • Oh Justinn. Maybe it’s in hopes of counteracting the homeless situation, but I agree. There are many things worse than death.

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  2. I don’t know what it is in some humans. The cruelty. The thoughtlessness. The need for dominance. Your story didn’t make me cry. But it did make my stomach hurt. And my shoulders ache. I’m sorry for what you witnessed over time. What you have had to work out. I am so sorry for what these horses had to endure. My heart hurts for them.

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  3. Oh boy, I can so identify. As you know, we bought River away from her terrible situation but it was too late for rehab. We knew it when we bought her. These stories are so sad. Thank you for the lovely photo. I can imagine River and the chestnut content, grazing happily, a breeze ruffling their manes. Even in cruel situations, I think animals can feel kind intentions. I suspect the chestnut knew the love that bore her into the world, the neighbors who cared from afar, and the love that caught her up, like a gentle net, to bring her home again.

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  4. A hard read here, Anna. I could feel the relief you felt for that poor soul who had suffered so long.
    When my Dover had contracted DSLD, puffy fetlocks were his prominent symptoms for several years, but he retained his ability to ambulate, running in the field with his herd, often in the lead. So I was sure he was in no pain. But the day finally came when he succumbed to his illness. Looking back, I was surprised at myself for being able to let him go so quickly, this horse who was and will always be the light of my life. Thank you, Anna, for allowing me this space to share my story.

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  5. We need to stop viewing death as the enemy, it comes to us all in the end. For those, animals, and humans who have long endured pain, it can come as a friend, not an enemy. We all know, and many of us have seen too much, that there are far worse fates than death. I have seen enough animals suffering with no Vet around. I am firmly in the camp of, “Better a month too early than a day too late.”

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  6. Satan is alive & well and living in the hearts of men like your neighbor. The Lord says “vengeance is mine”; I trust he has a special vengeance reserved for those who would inflict and/or watch any animal suffer.
    I’m sorry that man is a blight on what sounds like a nice little community of folks.

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  7. I’m so glad the little Chestnut has been allowed to have peace. Good question, Anna – How long?
    I know the folks here all have the same views and feelings I do regarding the absolute cruelty in this world.
    Its shameful that animal cruelty isnt considered an illegal act in every area of this country and others – that it can be so difficult to get animal control officials to act BEFORE it gets to this point.
    Far too many times we see “news” items regarding hoarding situations or just plain animal abuse, but reaction has been too late.

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  8. We have a similar skinny old horse we drive by every day on the way to school. His pony friend died a couple years ago and now he’s alone. He’s clearly looked after, blanketed and fed. Most days he looks dejected but not obviously in pain or unwell. Some days I want to stop and bring him home.

    The slow declines are the hardest, it can be hard to see that a creature is really barely alive when it happens over years. I’ve certainly had animals where even the day of euthanasia I’ve second guessed whether it’s time. Then a week later I’m appalled that I let it go so long.

    It’s a great kindness to have someone who can see things more clearly and prod us to action.

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  9. Beautifully written once again. You always enlighten the reader and,at the same time, make us feel better. I love the way you express everything in such a moving way. Can’t get enough of your life-views.

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  10. So much evil out there in the wide world. Those of us who love animals just wish we could bring all the suffering ones into the warm cocoon of love and care in our little worlds. The world wasn’t meant to be so evil.

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  11. I”m sorry you & your neighbor have had such awfulness going on in your ‘ ‘hood…and even sorrier for the horse, and the dogs you mentioned, too. I have no words really, except thank you for writing about this. End of life decisions are never easy.

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    • Thanks. Sarah. Some bad eggs for sure, but I think times are changing for companion animals. So different than when we were younger.

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  12. This sounds so much like my own rural neighborhood–most of us are like family, supporting each other and looking out for each other and everyone’s animals. But there’s the one deranged and dangerous guy with the rap sheet at the end of the road who is a threat to our peace. Not far from our neighborhood–in another rural enclave–one neighbor murdered another over escalating hostilities. His decapitated body was found atop the Continental Divide. We just stay clear of our road’s hostile neighbor and I didn’t call the sheriff even when he tried to run me down with his truck while I was riding my horse up the road we share. Yes, we have to do what we can for suffering creatures in our view, but we also have to take care of ourselves. Be careful not to start any wars, Anna!

    And thank you for writing so eloquently about the virtue of euthanasia. I have made the mistake of waiting too long–just once. I will never do that again.

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    • Thanks, Alice. Good advice to steer clear. I know the cruelty they show animals reflects on how people are treated too.
      Thanks for the kind words. You stay safe, too.

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    • I realize how easy it is for me to say this – but someone who gets away with that kind of dangerous attempt, might just get more determined the next time. Please be careful for yourself AND your animals. This guy sounds dangerous.

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  13. Reading this struck a nerve. I have a coming-28 y.o. that I’ve struggled to get through this Winter, unusually harsh in N.C. I’ve had him 10 years as a pasture ornament. Sadly, he developed EORTH in his early 20’s which most people have never heard of, including myself. You can Google it, it’s not pretty. They lose their teeth at an accelerated rate and can only eat totally soaked food so I feed him 3-4 times a day. He can’t eat hay and quids long grass but will spend the rest of the time nibbling short grass. I watch him like a hawk and he IS rail thin. I blanket him when it’s below 50 or raining and I struggle with the emotions, so WHY do I do this? Because he is sound, alert, has a bright eye, and will even trot or canter in to be fed. I’ve buried 4 horses on my farm (with 2 of them there was no option) and I’ve always believed they will tell you when it’s time. When he no longer shows interest in eating is the first clue. I read an essay on FB not long ago that – to sum it up – professed that it was “better on a good day than a bad day….better when they are not suffering”. And that argument has some merit….so WHY is it so hard for us to come to grips with it? Why can we not let them go when they are not suffering and in pain? Even though their body is slipping away? Can anyone answer that for me? I would never let him suffer and he seems content with his existence. (He is not alone, I have one that is 22 who will be alone one day). I read your blog about Nube, Anna, and cried with you. Every horse owner knows that day will come yet having them in our lives is non-negotiable.

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    • Wonderful comment, Shari. You are clearly doing your very best for this horse. And horsewomen aren’t quitters. We are tough, as you are proving. We negotiate their quality of life, making lists like yours.

      Why don’t we let them go? I’ve thought about it so very much. We would never want to be someone who euthanizes for our own convenience or want to be thought of as cruel. Do we go too far trying to be kind?. I think we let our own emotions, how much we will miss them, rule. So, is our fault that we love horses too much??

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        • What I hoped to show in this piece is the challenge is there, whether we are abusers or lovers, but the bottom line should be the quality of life. Thanks Maggie.

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      • I don’t think of it as a matter of trying to be kind, or even how much I’ll miss him (I’ve never had a “real connection” with this horse, I’ve had others that filled that bill) With me, it more a matter of supporting him in the best way possible to live the life God has planned for him. I view every horse I’ve had as my responsibility. When he nears his expiration date, he and God will let me know. Until then, I carry out the plan.

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  14. I finally read/listened to the excerpt from your book regarding January on the prairie! (couldnt remember the actual title) Frankly, it felt like the stories from 100 or more years ago of the women & families living there and sometimes dying there.
    I’m really glad you, the horses, burro, goats, llamas, dogs and cats lived thru it. It sounded terrifying. And yeah, my mind would have also gone straight to what happens to my animals if I die! Plus what happens to horses during weather changes or not enough water.
    I hope you at some point were able to get a generator – automated if possible!\
    I managed that a few years ago – we do lose power a couple times a year – sometimes for days. But its not as dangerous here as it is “out there”.
    Yay Anna

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  15. Thank you for your timely thoughts. I’m struggling, again, on the decisions with both our elderly pooch Maggie and a 40 year old mustang mare, Cinders. It is such a difficult call, even when you know for sure that it IS time. Good luck with your pooch, you’ll know if any of us do.

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    • I feel for you, Jinx. Slow decline is the worst. Sometimes I make the decision by seasons. Meaning relieve them of a cold or hot season, depending on where you live.

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  16. Oh damn… I got a call from my farrier, asking me to check on a “donkey that’s down” that belonged to another client, who was out of town. Heart sank when I pulled up. We tried all day, and finally got the vet on site, who helped make the decision to let this one go gently. The other donkey and her horse looked ragged, but standing.
    A couple of days later I got pics from the owner, of a “replacement” that she’d immediately purchased.
    Then to top things off – a couple of weeks later her other donkey went down. This time we fought for a week – got him standing, eating, I thought improving… and then lost that one too.
    So now she’s left with a scraggly looking horse and this newest donkey… and I’m dreadfully worried that we’re going to repeat the pattern.
    DAMMIT!

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    • Sorry, Mark. These old donkeys are so stoic. By the time we can tell, it’s often too late. Ruminants are worse. I share your dread.

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  17. Having been a nurse for a millennium, I’m no stranger to having witnessed human suffering and sometimes, the unreachable goal of trying to alleviate that suffering. However, in the animal world we have a tool to alleviate suffering. It is a hideously painful choice to euthanize our beloved animals………until we are able to witness that their suffering is over. My heart has broken and my tears have flooded my barn more times than I want to count, but there is a distinct sense of relief when I know that these precious creatures are free of the pain that life sustains.

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