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His knees buckled as he slowly folded to the ground. I held his head and gently lowered it until it was at rest. The vet gave me an almost imperceptible nod as he removed the syringe and I sat down on the ground beside him stroking his neck, silently saying my last goodbyes. My tears poured down to land in his thick black mane.

It was the 20th December 1999 and as the century came to a close so too did my 22 year partnership with my beloved Spartan.

His final gift to me was a lesson in love, loss and grief.

Spartan was 3 years old when I bought him two days after my 15th birthday. I had saved up by getting a part time job and while my friends were buying clothes and makeup I was putting my money in the bank. I was a working class kid from a big family in the suburbs and my dream of owning a horse had finally come true.

For the first two years I couldn't afford to buy a saddle but that didn't matter as long as we were together. I learned how to budget for agistment, food, shoes, worming, vaccinations and even managed to keep some money aside for the inevitable vet bills.

We grew up together and he played a bigger part in shaping the person I was to become than any single person could. As he grew from a gangly youngster into a young horse he taught me patience and persistence. He tested my bravery and taught me how to laugh at myself. He showed me that material things didn't matter and forgiving mistakes was easy if you care.

As he moved into middle age I was moving into the workforce and driving. Responsibility was easy, financial management came naturally because of my life with him. Coping with a person's broken wrist at work is nothing after you have had to cut free a 600kg horse from a tangled wire fence. He was discerning in my choice of boyfriends making his views clear from the first. He was never wrong and I am pleased to say he approved of my husband.

Old age came, but the friendship and encouragement he offered never wavered. At 25 years old he was a healthy, happy horse. There was no warning that the end was near. It came quickly. Over the space of a week he became listless and disinterested and would not respond to anything except my voice.

The vet was kind and said this quick deterioration was common in older horses. His internal organs were beginning to fail and there was nothing to be done. It was not a hard decision to make to release him from this world. I owed him that in the very least for all he had done and been for me. But oh how I ached. That December day is forever engraved on my heart. I have had other horses and loved them dearly but none will ever fill the aching void that lies hidden deep within me.

Vale Spartan.

Learn more about this author, Marie Hurley.
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