Galloping Gunfire

Galloping Gunfire Part 2

I ran outside, tears flooding down my cheeks, to where my horse lay on the red-stained grass. Blood poured out of a gaping wound on one of her back legs. Her bright blue eyes were fading to a dull grey. I gently placed my hand on her face, as she was breathing heavily and her heart beating fast. My mother rushed out of the house and handed me her phone so I could call an emergency vet. I held the phone to my ear, more tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

Alaska's leg was in such a horrible condition, she was put into surgery to get it cut off. I sat in the waiting room with my mother and we cried together, not speaking, but handing each other numerous amounts of tissues. My mother had suggested that they put Alaska down, but I had disagreed. She couldn't die. I would not allow that. When it was suggested that they simply cut her leg off to stop the pain, I cried even more, but agreed. I would not stop riding a horse just because it had 3 legs. I would keep riding Alaska. It would take a very long time for both of us to get used to it, but we could do it. We would teach each other.

In the end, Alaska had a new leg put on. It was made out of metal, and clipped onto her knee, which was where her leg had been chopped off to. On the day we could bring her home, I decided to begin by teaching Alaska to stand up again. We made slow progress, but eventually she could stand up on all 3 legs, plus the new leg, while leaning against a fence. As the sun set that afternoon, I lay next to Alaska and congratulated her for all of her hard work. It's not often that you see a horse with 3 real legs and 1 fake leg. She had been a very brave horse, and deserved an award for staying calm through the pain.

Over the next couple of months, I continued helping Alaska through the pain and difficulty. I taught her to walk, trot and canter with the metal leg. I had not put a saddle on her since the accident, as I was too nervous to ride her. Instead, I put the halter on her and lead her around the arena. The dullness of her eyes was disappearing and the blue colour was flooding back in. She whinnied everyday when I came out to her paddock to feed her and continue helping her. Almost a year had passed by the time she could gallop again, and when I finally had the strength to hop onto her back.