Thank you, Barbaro

In a world gone amuck, with images of war, violence, and child abduction filling the news, one horse kept telling us that life was worth struggling for. It didn’t matter that he only lived not-quite nine months after the accident. For that period, his attitude told us that even a less-than-perfect life is valuable.

Recently a friend rescued two, twenty-plus-year-old horses. They scored 1 and 1.5 on the body-condition scale, which means they were so pathetically skinny that the next lowest rating was 0. When I heard about it, I admit thinking that rehabilitation was probably a wasted effort, but that she’d give them a kind ending. But when I went to see the mares, their warm greeting humbled me. They weren’t thinking they were old and had one hoof on a banana peel. They weren’t focused on their prior abuse. They were rejoicing about a full belly and someone to pet them, and wondering if I, too, was bringing carrots to celebrate, even though they could barely chew them. Life was worth struggling for — even for these two old girls.

There’s a story in the Bible about Jesus having raised a woman’s brother from the dead, and of that woman putting expensive perfume on Jesus at a dinner later on. Judas scoffed, saying that the perfume should have been sold and the money given to the poor. (The book goes on to tell us that he didn’t care about the poor, but that Judas was a thief and the keeper of the moneybag.) Everyone knew that Jesus cared a lot about poor people, so they were eager to hear what he had to say. He told them that occasionally an extravagant gift of love is appropriate. Certainly Barbaro’s owners and his vets gave him an extravagant gift.

I’ve had to euthanize two horses that I loved, because I couldn’t keep them pain-free. And I’ve helped other people make the decision about putting their horses down after a long haul of care. As you pay off the vet bill month by month, it’s tempting to second guess your decisions. It’s gut wrenching, but rewarding on some level to know you’ve done all you could, and that when the time came, you made the best decision for the horse. That doesn’t mean you should go to extraordinary lengths in every case. In Barbaro’s situation, the gift made to him was a gift to us, too.

Plenty of people cheered for Barbaro when he raced. But more cheered for him — and inadvertently for themselves — as he struggled for life. Pictures of him grazing after surgery gave us hope. Reports of Barbaro’s barn being deluged with flowers and get-well wishes helped us feel connected with other people who love horses and love life. The fact he lost a battle ultimately doesn’t matter. He won the war.

As I embrace my horse – himself having been a type of rescue — I can’t help thanking God for giving us horses like Calvin and Barbaro, who lend us courage to face our world, who remind us to enjoy the sunshine of today, and who understand that racing is just one season of life.

Maureen Gallatin

Editor-at-large, John Lyons’ Perfect Horse

As appeared in the March 2007 issue