In tribute to Castle's Felina I decided to reprint a story I wrote about losing my best friend. This was printed in the January 1993 Percheron News. Many people ask after reading this story, "What did Felina die from?". We do not know for sure what Felina died from. We do know that it was sudden and unexpected. We believe that it may have been a heart attack.
Felina was the first horse my family owned. She came from the late Johnny Kriz, Bethany, CT. Her dam was a mare that they received from the University of Connecticut when they sold their horses. Felina was born in the brook that runs through the Kriz Farm property. My parents, went to visit the Kriz Family one weekend in 1976 and my Mother fell in love immediately with "the filly". Johnny put Felina in one of his horse trailers and told my parents to take her home. My parents did not have the money at the time to pay for the mare but Johnny told them they could pay him when they had the money. Well, long story short, they brought Felina home and began to build their horse barn and pastures. Felina taught my family a lot in her twelve years with us. She afforded us with the opportunity to raise three of her offspring, Diesel, Ebony and Spring. Diesel is still alive today and is now 20 years old. Who knows how much different my family would have been if it weren't for Johnny putting Felina into that trailer.
Felina's Parting
As I stand here brushing my rose grey Trakehner in the cobweb-covered barn, with the smell of freshly strewed wood shavings still lingering from the night before, I can hear the howlings of the hunt hounds in the near vicinity creating the seven a.m. ruckus about the barn yard. A quick glance outside the sliding door proved my theory to be correct, the sun was relaying brilliant colors across the clear, morning sky; it was definitely a little past seven. An empty sensation poured through me.
Memories of a past October trapped my current thoughts, it had been exactly two years, the true pain of losing a friend walked all over my morning glory. I felt as if I was reliving that Wednesday all over again. Tears quietly embellished my eyes. I walked silently to the corral fence, sobbing in grief, staring deeply at the maple tree, big and strong, standing alone next to the stone wall, with the barbed wire neatly strung above it. The tree is so alive, but buried beneath its caring branches were my memories.
I awoke a bit earlier than usual for a school day, I unbarred the shade covered window, allowing the sweet essence of real country air, with a slight detection of freshly - spread cow manure from the nearby fields to seep into my room along with the peep of day. The aroma established in my mind that fall was in full swing. I opened the slits in the shade wide enough to see through to discover that the leaves seemed to change into golden reds and oranges over night. They were soon to drop to the ground only to be raked into piles for the children to play in.
Things were routine, Felina, was standing under her maple tree, which had been shading and protecting her throughout her twelve years of life.
Each morning Felina would be under her tree without fail. Her one ton, coal black body stood still as day in a relaxed position with her head hung low as if she were sleeping, nothing abnormal, she always stood in that manner.
Time came to do morning chores. I put on my torn, horse slobber stained, barn clothes and muck boots and headed out the front door of the house. While standing still on the dew dampened lawn I whistled loudly, all of the horses knew this whistle; it signified breakfast or dinner time. Felina's ears perked forward and she began her morning charge to the barn door.
I strolled to the barn and began dividing up the sweet feed, placing a scoop full in each of the five stalls. The barn door rumbled across its tracks, opening wide enough to allow the horses to come in one by one. Felina always being the first to trot proudly into her overly sized box stall and the rest following close behind, trotting into their straight stalls. Max, Felina's grandson, was always last to claim his stall.
Felina enjoyed her food and didn't like to be bothered while consuming it. Strangely I went and sat in her hay manger to intently watch her eat her breakfast. She minded my presence but tolerated it. At first she paid no attention to my being, but once she was finished with every last kernel of corn, and licking her grain tray clean, she turned toward me. She looked at me with her kind eyes and she allowed me to push her forelock to one side of her face revealing her bright white star. I patted her, knowing that she never did like a lot of affection. You didn't dare to hug and kiss her unless she was in the mood to be loved. This morning she permitted me to give her kisses on her pink snipped nose. I talked to her in a funny, childish voice, telling her how beautiful she had looked at the horse show that past week; although I knew deep down inside that she hadn't been herself that day.
We did so well together, traveling throughout the northeast going from horse show to horse show. We were a team, and usually an unbeatable team. She always knew when it was show time. She would dance around in circles, the second she heard the jingling of the harness being pulled from its box. A proud percheron was what she was. She had a purpose, a job, and she knew it all too well.
With a baby blue mane roll and rosettes tied in her long, flowing mane and ribbons tied in her tail, she would put on a breathtaking, exhausting show, working herself into a foamy sweat.
I knew as well as she that something was wrong, she wasn't herself and no one else saw this. No matter how bad she was hurting she would give it all her heart and soul to please the applauding crowd. The roar of the crowd always gave her the stamina she needed to go around the ring once or twice more, pounding her feet as if she were trying to crack the ground.
Showing off wasn't all that Felina did exceptionally. She loved long trail rides through the neighboring woods. We would go out on the trails for hours at a time. She was most comfortably ridden bareback. Her big, round body was like straddling over a couch. Unlike most horses she wasn't herd bound, she liked to get away from the rest of the crowd, three of them being her offspring. The trails seemed to be our get away.
A gentle nudge brought me back to the real world. Time really seems to fly early in the morning. I had school to attend and I didn't want to miss the bus. School began in a little less than an hour, meaning the bus would be cruising down the road soon enough. I patted Felina on the rear end and told her I would see her later.
I changed my clothes and cleaned up for what looked to be just another average day. I was running a bit late so I had to sprint down the quarter mile driveway to the bus-stop, making it there in perfect time.
School was school, an ordinary day of tenth grade classes, but indeed an exceptional day in the world of boys. I was falling deeper and deeper into what seemed to be lust with a really nice guy. His touch sent me to cloud nine, not to return for the remaining school day, making me forget those happenings encompassing me.
The bus ride home with a bunch of yelling, young adults always made me bus sick. The kids were no longer in the stage of calling each other dumb and stupid but instead they would swear at one another. The typical afternoon ride home.
I was definitely glad to hop down the three steps leading to the paved roadway. Another school day behind me and soon it would be Thanksgiving vacation.
Walking down the driveway was a daily ritual. The stones crumbled beneath my feet, as I lunged forward tripping in a pot hole. Leaves on the swaying trees rustled in short gusts of wind. I repositioned my book bag on my shoulder and headed toward the house once again.
My lackadaisical world was interrupted by the sounds of a tractor rumbling across the field. Only Dad drove the tractor. The engine shut off and I saw a figure walking across the empty corral. There was two more figures sitting on the porch. I could not see exactly who they were. My mind began to wonder. It's a Wednesday my father is home, but his car is not. There is a strange car parked in the driveway obviously belonging to the person seated on the porch with a woman who from a distance looked to be my mother. I quickened my pace out of curiosity. Why are all of the horses in the wrong corral? Where is my horse?
My dad progressed towards me. I could see the anguish in his eyes. Jokingly I asked, "Now what did I do wrong?" Tears quickly filled his eyes. He was holding something from me. Later I would understand that the news he had to tell me would break my heart and practically make me lose my mind. He grabbed me and pulled me close to him as he began to sob.
"Felina is dead," he whispered softly into my ear. A feeling of emptiness filled me and I began to cry hysterically, dropping my book bag to the cold, hard ground. My father pulled me closer to him. The two of us, just standing in the middle of the driveway, weeping in one another's arms. I pushed my father away and began to run toward the house but I was intercepted by Shelly, a close friend of the family, practically my second mother. She hugged me and told me that it was too late. My mom joined us, holding me tightly, controlling herself very well.
I turned towards my father and began to question him, " Where is she, Dad?" "Don't go down there," he replied, as he glanced toward the maple tree with an extremely large turquoise blue tarp lying under it.
"No," I screamed. I ran, headed for the tarp, not even the fence was enough to stop me as I hurdled over it. A nauseous feeling poured over me as I got within ten feet of her covered body. I began to walk slowly, one step at a time, closer and closer to her. One front hoof was protruding from under the cover.
In disbelief, I kneeled down and pulled the cover from her face. She looked lifeless. I sat next to
her and placed her cold head in my lap. A peaceful look of deep sleep was on her face. I sat and ran my hand over her nose, her mouth was open slightly, her once pink gums were now a pale blue. There was mud and scrapes on her tender face from being dragged across the pasture.
I talked to her in a soothing voice like always, I told her to wake up and to stop playing games and that it wasn't funny, someone was obviously playing a cruel joke. I wanted badly for her to nudge me at that moment, maybe I would wake up out of this realistic nightmare. There was no way in my mind that she could possibly be dead.
I looked up, finding myself starring into a bright blue sky without a cloud in sight. A warm breeze blew over us, I wasn't going to leave her by herself. She was my friend and friends aren't supposed to go through life on their own. I was there for her but now she wasn't going to be there for me. Life was already taking a different prospective.
A shadow appeared behind me, I lifted my head coming eye to eye with my father. I reached for his hand, he took it in his, and caringly said, "It is time to say good-bye. The sun will be setting soon." He placed Felina's head back onto the damp ground and then pulled me to my feet. I cried out-loud, "I don't want to say good-bye, I love her, she can't be dead." He began to tear me away from her, I could tell that he didn't want to see me going through such pain.
The tractor's engine roared once again as he began to dig the terminal grave. I propped myself up against the stone wall. I felt very weak. As the hole got deeper, water at the bottom began to rise higher. If she wasn't already dead she would definitely drown in that hole. My father lowered the bucket down next her body, as he glanced toward me. I didn't want to watch but I felt I had to.
With a gentle shove her body fell into the water at the bottom of what seemed to be an endless pit. By the glances I was receiving I could tell he was thinking the same as me. He slowly climbed down off of the tractor as if it were a long hike down and then he walked away, with his head hanging low.
I stood over the treacherous hole, starring at her beautiful body, I almost felt insane. My father was carrying something in his arms as he returned from the barn, it looked to be Felina's red blanket. He jumped down into the grave, straightened out Felina's body the best he could, placing her head on a rock, above the water and then covered her with the blanket.
I interrupted his motions, "Dad, please cut me off a piece of her mane." He removed his army knife from his pocket and trimmed off a locket of mane and handed it up to me.
"Please, go to the house now," he pleaded with me. I turned away and headed to the house, muttering to myself, " Why is this happening?" I went right to my bedroom where comfort was sought, but all I could find was pictures of Felina and trophies and ribbons that Felina had won.
I grabbed my first place ribbon that I had won with Felina at the
1986 New York State Fair and the picture of the ribbon presentation and quickly glanced through the window to see Felina was now being covered by mounds of dirt.
I rushed out of the house and back to the maple tree yelling, "Stop!" My father haled the machine and saw that I had something in my hand. I held back the tears long enough to say, "Put, this ribbon on her halter and place this picture next to her head." "Are you sure this is what you want to do. I thought that this was the ribbon that meant the most to you," he said questioningly. "Yes, please, just do it," I answered back.
I stepped aside making sure that he did it the way I had asked him to and then watched him finish the burial. I watched as each rock and piece of dirt covered her body, but somehow I knew inside that she was still there with me.
The sun was disposing in the sky like Felina was in the ground. I knew as I began the journey back to the barn to do evening chores that it would be a sleepless night. When I realized how chilly it had gotten I could only imagine how cold lying beneath the surface of the ground must be. My nose was numb and my eyes were no longer able to form tears.
Nightmares filled my dreams. Wild dogs pulling Felina's frozen body from the ground by her legs and tearing her limb by limb, as if she were a toy. I awoke the household with screams of terror. My parents came into my room to comfort me until I fell asleep once again. I rose the next morning, leaped out of my bed and scampered to my window only to perceive the maple tree with a mound of dirt beneath it, where I was hoping to see Felina standing like every other morning.
