If you think ‘it’s just a horse’ then this blog is definitely not for you. This is for those of us who know our horses are our life, inherently our reason for getting up every day and being the best we can.
On Sunday 19th January 2025, my beautiful Cali was diagnosed with septic shock/peritonitis, secondary to intestinal rupture from an extremely large enterolith. Unfortunately there was no resolution for this and Cali joined the angels that day.
The purpose of this is purely to document my own personal experience. And if by chance I help or educate others in the process, then that is absolutely a bonus. I won’t be talking the technicalities of it all, you can certainly do the research and read so much about it. In my case, this is in a way one part of the healing process.
I will preface this however, that yes, this is hard and heavy, all the things, but sadness can also co-exist with hope and gratefulness and reflection. You can both let the sadness come and go but still find a positive way through it all and look to a new, albeit different, future. I hope this highlights it’s normal to feel both.
Cali – Callidor, Sass Queen, Cray Cray, Fire Breathing Dragon. My heart horse, my soulmate, my best friend and a once in a lifetime horse. I truly believe you were always supposed to be mine. On paper her regal yet sassy opinionated and challenging nature should not have matched well with my own version of OCD excellence seeking, perfectionist, fully planning everything to minute detail personality. But it just did. They say mares are challenging, but when you get that good one, nothing compares to the partnership you will have, and nothing could be more true. We had a partnership that was rock solid in all ways.
She taught me to be confident, independent, challenge myself, think outside the box, to be strong and courageous in life and most of all, to jump some bloody massive big jumps! A Warrior Queen. I was always amazed at her absolute belief in herself. And I am therefore the best version of me because of her.
I’ve always said a great Coach is key. It’s not just getting a few lessons and learning to jump jumps, it’s the fact they know you sometimes better than you know you. And that is why this worked. Yoda knew I needed Cali and Cali needed me.
This type of partnership is something that is built over years. Years of the ups, the downs, the good, bad and messy, everything in between. All of it. Years of hard work and commitment and learning and just getting out there experiencing life and working it out together. We got to where we were because of that commitment and effort but also because of the bond that we built and the trust that we had in each other. That is not something that happens overnight, and it is rewarding knowing you built something that successful and special from its foundation.
Apart from so many incredible achievements and goals we reached, you were also wildly hilarious and well, just a teeny tiny bit annoying. But that is a big part of what made you unique. A stoic elegant queen, who made it very clear on how and when she was to be touched (mostly NEVER, like excuse me mam but personal space…). Warm ups were for the most part like entering the battle zone. If you made it out of Galactica alive you were sure to have a cracker round!! But only god knew if you would be lucky enough that day to get to the ring relatively unscathed. Thanks to you Cali, I have an uncanny ability to pretend like that ridiculous retarded thing you just did, didn’t happen (#erasememoryactivated).
And how many times you escaped and simply just caused chaos because you could. So dramatic! Mostly it was just to visit the sexiest man alive (King Leroy), but with all certainty it was simply to make sure we knew YOU were in charge here. And the adventures. I mean the safari into the carport/backyard at Boree with 5 kids chasing you was simply iconic. And the walk of shame to return even more so, sporting a whole branch of gum leaves in your tail as your souvenir. Personally offended that you were finally ‘contained’…
Many notorious shows (SSJC) were between us all we ran out of fingers and toes to count the number of misdemeanours. So many memories and moments that have shaped who we were as a team.
And then I heard the words that no one ever ever wants to hear about their heart horse. It became a reality for me and everything changed in an instant.
The realisation that the trip you thought you were taking for surgery to help your unicorn, quickly turned into the worst nightmare imaginable. And the love we have for our horses and me in particular with Cali, it is so damn easy and normal to want to be completely selfish, to try every single possible thing no matter what ‘just in case’. Because you never know right, miracles could occur. It could be this time! But the reality is, the only thing to do is the right thing by your horse. To ensure they are not in pain and not suffering. I cannot say how hard that is however to enact in the moment. Logically you know, sure, but to actually have the mental strength to say ok, I’m going to let you go now because that’s what you need… that’s just [insert whichever swear word you like here….]
I cannot describe the absolute soul destroying agonising pain of realising that there is no option. That here right now is your last moments with her. That you don’t have any more jumps to jump. You don’t have any more snuggles and licorice to deliver before bed. No more adventures to be had. Never to breathe in her comforting smell or see her waiting for you at the paddock gate. You literally jumped one of the best rounds ever only hours ago… now this??
I’ve never truly comprehended the phrase ‘time stood still’ until that day. That day I fully understood. For in that moment, when the words were spoken, the thing you never ever want to hear, ‘there is nothing we can do’ there was nothingness. Everything stopped. That’s what they mean. And then suddenly you realise you understand the words being spoken, what they actually mean. And there is no going back after that. Something very significant about you changes forever.
It then happens just so quickly. Too quickly. Like I need more time. It’s not right. I took her stable bandages off for the very last time. Lucy braided her tail. So pretty for her journey to come. How are you supposed to know what to do in that time. How do you fit a lifetime of thankyous and love into the 10 minutes you know you have left.
10 mins to try to comprehend what’s about to happen. We did what we felt was comforting Scratching her favourite spot. Cuddling her. Talking to her. Letting her know just how loved she is. Thanking her for every day we spent together. Those moments were both equal measure of pure agonising heartbreak and trying desperately to give her every last piece of love I had. What goes through your head in those moments… hard to describe. A mental slideshow of so many beautiful memories.
I feel like everyone possibly has thought about their own version of what they may do in this scenario and there is no right or wrong answer. For me in that moment, there was no decision. A mare that gave literally her everything to me. I would be everything for her until the very very end. No question. I didn’t care what the impact to me may be afterwards, I just didn’t care. And it was definitely the right and the best decision for me and for her. To know she could hear me talking to her. To know she felt incredible love and adoration to her very last breath on this earth. I was there, telling her it was ok, telling her she needed to go and I would be ok. She deserved that and so much more. I won’t lie, it is traumatic. And there are so many logistical things you don’t think about until that moment. Why would you. However you just need to somehow find the strength to get to the end. There is actually no way or words to describe the feeling of the finality of having to leave them and just walk away forever. But you somehow just do it. One foot in front of the other. Shock and numbness take over.
No one prepares you for what comes after. The feeling of driving out of there with a gooseneck on that is empty, that only hours ago held your most precious cargo. The trip from hell all the way home knowing what you left behind, yet still struggling to understand how this happened. Or the arrival at the other end when you don’t even have to open the back. A simple thing, a simple task that we normally do without thinking, but with a whole lot of meaning this time.
Cali touched the hearts of many people, very deeply. And how wonderful it is to know she had such a far reach. But I think without doubt the hardest part of all of this is purely the fact it happened so quickly. There was no time to prepare, there was no time to process, it was just immediate and final.
Grief certainly is a journey in itself. So many ups and downs. And there is sadly no magic pill or manual on how to deal with all the very deep emotions. You can be travelling along doing ok and something suddenly out of nowhere just completely derails you. And the grief is consuming. But perhaps that is ok. The level of pain and hurt and sadness you feel just reflects the amount of love you had, and how undeniably special she was.
But then you hit the anger part. And I’m not sure if that is any better or worse. Anger at her for leaving, for not telling me she wasn’t ok, for being too stoic. Anger at the world for the absolute unfairness of it. Why HER!!!!! And why me! Anger at myself for not being more on top of what was going on (yes, I couldn’t have known, but that doesn’t always help…).
Anger that the dream you had will never be realised. That the story goes unfinished. This wasn’t a horse that was happily retired in the paddock who had a ‘good innings’, it was my current partner and we had so many big dreams still to come.
Your tribe matters! Yes, your team, your tribe, the people you surround yourself with, MATTERS! In moments like this, it is truly humbling to feel the support, love, care your people give you. When you have nothing left, they take over and give you theirs. Mostly they are horse people. They know. They get it. They too can see the impact and do their absolute best to give you whatever you need. From the simple logistical things which are truly outside your mental capability at the time, like packing up your trailer to get on the road, to the big things, being there to catch you at the end and help put some pieces back together. Two people were my rocks. They know who they are and they know I can never repay them. I couldn’t have done what I did alone that day. Your survival instinct kicks in, but it drains every part of you. And those people, your people, they keep filling it up for you so you can keep going for as long as you need to.
At the end of the day Cali was simply an amazing part of my life that will never be forgotten. Living in her spirit every single day, showing her I did listen to her, I did learn and I embody everything she was. She will live on in her beautiful talented but equally as opinionated and sassy babies, Surprise and Cora. Her genetics are strong and we have the baddest of all Sass Queens waiting in the wings to pick up where mum left off. She showed me what I was made of, what I could be. To believe it was possible. She wasn’t just a horse, she was my everything. How truly lucky was I to have a Cali. I will never quite be the same, a large and special part of my heart will always be missing. But we now have a future to look forward to which will be very different but just as amazing in its own way. And that’s ok. Cali knew no other way than to keep going no matter what… so that’s what we do.
‘How lucky am I to have something so incredible that makes saying goodbye so hard’
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