We
have a smallholding, and for a decade we had Duke, a Belgian, who
helped us work it. He was blind in one eye, and had some ring bone so
he was never 100% sound, but we didn't ask much of him -- just to plow
the garden in the spring (for which he got some bute) and pull the
occasional log. He had a good life and enjoyed himself with our goats
(he was a goat midwife, I swear) and our donkey. Then, after a decade, he got to where
he wouldn't eat enough and died.
So
then another Belgian, Bill, was looking for a home so he plowed our
garden one spring, then came to live with us in the fall. But in
December he fell and broke his leg just above his hock and we had to
kill him.
So
we went one year and just worked our corn field by hand but at the fall
auction I found Rose. She was just an old, gentle BelgianX mare.
Because we didn't know her history, she went to the facility where I do
some work so we could drive her in an arena for safety and confidence
(for me) for the first time. She had checked out as a wonderful animal
and we were ready to bring her home when she colicked, her stomach
ruptured, and the vet put her down.
So
everyone has been looking for a suitable animal for us and our farrier
found one, Clyde. I just got a call today that Clyde's coggins came so
he is ready to come to us. And it scares me to death. Oh, there is no
way I won't do it but it hurts everything there is in me. It is like
the older I get, the more the hurt just builds up or something. The kindness makes me cry and the fear makes me cry and maybe I'm just pre-menstral.
May we have years and years with Clyde the Belgian.
