Sally, The Greatest Gift of Sobriety

From the youngest age I can remember, I had always wanted a horse. I would pray and wish every birthday and Christmas one would magically appear as a magnificent present. Yet, with each special day, I would be deeply disappointed as I was presented with gifts which were anything but a horse. In the meantime, I read every book I could find on horses and tried my best to draw them; an artist I am not. On a few occasions, my uncle and his girlfriend would take me riding at a stable that rented out horses. It was these times, that were, perhaps, the most cherished memories from my childhood.

As the years passed and my addiction began to control my life, my aspirations and hopes became buried, as my primary concern was how I was going to get my next drink. I was in pure survival mode with a honed in focus and need to feed my disease. I lived day to day, most of the time never knowing where I would sleep when the night
came.

I was completely selfabsorbed, uncaring, out of touch with my feelings and totally irresponsible. It is not a stretch to say that I was a menace to anyone and anything I crossed paths with. When I was active, I was not even accountable enough to take care of a goldfish. Somehow, only through the grace of God, I was given the gift of sobriety on April 10th, 1986.

Although I was sober for years, I could not forget how irresponsible I had been and had an underlying fear that I could never be the person who I truly wanted to be. As the days, months and years passed, I slowly gained confidence I could become a productive member of society and was deserving of others’ trust.

Still, underneath it all, I doubted my ability to ever care and love for another unconditionally. In March of 1995, on a ride through the country-side, I stopped to pet some horses on the side of the road. One thing led to another when I was talking to the woman who owned the farm and in a matter of minutes, I was invited to come back and meet a horse, currently away, being looked at to be sold.

Within a few weeks, I met Reds Sexy Sally (Sally), and became instantly connected to my new companion and friend, who would spend the next 30 years, minus one month, teaching me life changing lessons and what it meant to love unconditionally.

Sally was born on April 11th, 1989, 3 years and 1 day after the 1st day of my sobriety, I have never seen this as a coincidence. Over the years, when I have spoken about the significance of these dates, my eyes have usually welled up with tears. I see the close proximity of these dates as God working to have Sally enter my life. As if he was saying, by the time she comes to be your horse, you will be responsible enough to see her through the rest of her life. I am tearing up as I write this. What a great honor and privilege my higher power bestowed on me. And God was right, I did see her through her entire life, something I had never thought, even in early sobriety, I was capable of doing.

Through the decades, Sally and I grew together and our bond became stronger and stronger, we were a team. Although, as with many things in life, to the outsider, working with and riding a horse may look easy, in reality, it is anything but. To build a two-way relationship of understanding and trust, it takes a great deal of commitment, patience, perseverance and the ability to brush oneself off and get back up, both figuratively and literally, when you fall or fail.

Getting sober and staying sober had taught me about commitment and perseverance, my interactions with Sally brought these teachings to a new level. As far as patience, it had always eluded me. Even in sobriety, I had always wanted instant results and instant gratification. I quickly learned with Sally, I had to work hard for desired outcomes and patiently, and I do mean patiently, wait to see if they came to be.

Sally also taught me acceptance and tolerance. In our early years together, I had wanted to do horse shows with her, focusing on western pleasure. We would practice and practice, and were actually pretty good, especially Sally. Yet, when we were in the classes, Sally clearly exhibited a desire not to be there, for example, racing around the ring when what was called for was a quiet, slow gait. It was as if she was trying to tell me, if you want a show horse, I’m not it.

It took a little while to let go of my frustration and disappointment, but I finally learned to listen to her and accept and enjoy her for who she was, a great little trail horse.

Of all the animals, and for that matter, people, I have known in my life, Sally had the most admirable personality. She was independent, which is atypical for a horse, as they are herd animals. She was kind, but knew her own mind and made no apologies for it; and couldn’t have cared less if others liked it or not. She definitely was not a people pleaser.

Another great lesson Sally taught me was how to be a true and solid friend. Through the years, I endured several difficult changes and heartbreaking losses. When no one’s words could give me comfort, Sally was always there to share in my sorrow and quietly stand beside me or carry me through the woods and fields as I tried to process my grief and pain.

Most of us forget the best we can do for someone who is experiencing grief is to provide support and listen. Many of us have an inherent need to offer advice, find the right words that are going to make everything better or try to make sense out of what we can’t possibly understand, Sally just intuitively knew what was needed.

During her life, Sally had many medical challenges. In 1999, at the age of 10, she was diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD). Additionally, she suffered with allergies, food intolerances, irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) and a chronic colic history, the leading cause of death in horses.

Through caring and loving veterinarians, especially one in particular, who is extremely gifted and loved Sally like her own, Sally was given the treatments, and I, the tools and knowledge to manage her issues on a daily basis. Though Sally required special care, I never balked at the time, energy or cost it took to keep her healthy and alive. In all honesty, I never thought about it, I just did what needed to be done.

In hindsight, I can see how deep my love for her was. I have never been one who was too concerned with the needs of others and have often wondered how individuals can so freely give of themselves to another. Unbeknownst to me, I had been giving and loving unconditionally without realizing the amazing transformation that had taken place in me through my love for Sally.

Sally died this past February, at the age of 35, two months before her 36th birthday. Although she reached an age most horses never see, she was anything but old. She looked great, was sound, had life in her eyes and I still rode her. On the day of her death, I did not see it coming, nor did any of the vets that took care of her in recent visits. The way she looked, we were all expecting she would be one of the rare horses who lived to see 40. She was perfectly fine at breakfast and in less than 3 hours, when I went back to the barn, she was in excruciating pain.

I experienced many colics with her and when it started happening, I knew it was bad. Sally had powered through numerous medical issues, but now, there was no trying to get her to the equine clinic, where she had been twice, and no chance of saving her. It was like being in the middle of a horrible nightmare.

All I had done was to come and check on her and here I was, about to lose her. It seemed so surreal and I didn’t know how I could muster up the strength to be present and do what I needed to do. In my time of despair, I turned to the only source I knew was available to help me, I prayed to God to give me the strength to get through this. It was through my prayer that I was able to make the decision to let Sally go and hold her lead line while the veterinarian administered the injection that ended her suffering and life.

It is believed Sally had a lipoma, a fatty tumor, which strangulated her intestines. A longtime friend and horse person, told me many years ago, although it was not the way horses usually go, she hoped Sally would die peacefully when the time came, unfortunately and tragically, this was not the way it was meant to be. I have heard animals decide when and how they will leave their physical bodies, in part, to teach us the spiritual lessons we need to learn. If this is true, I am grateful Sally chose to let me be with her. I cannot imagine the heartache I would have felt if she had been alone, in terrible pain, suffering until someone noticed.

Though my heart is broken beyond measure, I am grateful to have had Sally in my life and sobriety for so many years. She brought out the best in me and taught me how to incorporate many of the principles of the fellowship, love, patience, acceptance and tolerance, into my being and daily life. God was there to give me the greatest gift I could have asked for in my sobriety and God was with me when I had the unbearable task of letting her go. Through my tears and pain, I am, and will be, forever grateful to have had the blessing and for-tune of having Sally as the best spiritual teacher and friend I could have ever asked for or known.

Lisa F.