She was B.A.D.

Jive’s nickname was B.A.D. She never was ‘bad’ — it was short for Big Assed Dunn. Her coloring was dunn and she has a really big rump.


She also had a very frizzy forelock that somehow, early on, got named “The Magic Pouff”. The kids even made up a song about The Magic Pouff.


The last two days have been pretty bad. Traveling to Wyoming is always a long day, but when you know you’re going out to put your horse down, it just can’t get much worse. Couple that with getting 2-1/2 hours sleep, forgetting your suitcase at your house and not realizing it until you get to the airport, delays on both flight legs, being seated apart from your children on both flights, and having someone so fat sitting next to you on the longest flight that you can literally feel the sweat through his shirt pressing against your arm that is flowing over into your very limited personal space. Just to top things off the girls’ suitcases didn’t show up in Jackson. Great.

Our first stop was to see Jive. Luckily Dr. Theo was outside with her when we got there. She looks great. She was happy to see us. I couldn’t help but hope that some miraculous event had occurred during our day of traveling and she was all better. As soon as she took her first step I knew nothing had changed. She had nerve blocks on her, but you can see how painful each step still is for her.

The girls and I promptly burst into tears when she took her first painful steps. We stayed with her for quite awhile. Her appetite is still very good, so we had her out eating some grass, talking to her and loving her. We promised Dr. Theo we would come back again in the morning to say our final goodbyes. He would not let me be there for the ‘actual event’. He wanted our last memory of her to be a pleasant one.

I was completely wiped out when we finally got home. I have now cried myself to sleep for 3 nights running like a heartbroken teenager. I forgot how exhausting that can be.

This morning we found Jive already out eating some nice green grass when we arrived. There’s absolutely no concern that she’ll run away in the condition that she’s in. If I thought her condition was bad yesterday, it had deteriorated by this morning. On several occasions you could see her back legs almost give out on her, and we thought each time that she was going down. She somehow managed to catch herself each time, but if yesterday hadn’t been enough to convince me that this was the right thing to do, (and it had), this morning sure was.

It was still awful.

Awful.

Awful.

Awful.

I can honestly say that she seemed to know what was happening and seemed thankful for it. She was as loving and sweet as always as we all gave her a final brushing so she looked her best when she went to meet Cissy up in Heaven.

She’s gone now I believe. Theo was supposed to do it sometime today after we left. We were all so upset that I couldn’t even walk into his office when we were done. We just got in the truck and left. I know he understands, and I’m sure I’m not the first person that’s done that.

I’m just glad her pain is over.

She was truly an amazing horse. Many people have wanted to buy her from me over the years. She had the sweetest temperament and was amazing to ride. Gentle enough to show Maia the basics of barrel racing last year,


Yet spirited enough to enjoy the thrill of working cows with me.


I’m sure that the love one has for their first horse is not unique to me. Unfortunately the bar was set pretty damn high with Jive and it’s hard to imagine every replacing her.

I was very, very lucky to have been able to share part of her life with her.

My last photo of Jive as we were leaving today. Want to ruin my day even further? Have my camera be in the suitcase that I forgot at home. All I had to take my last pictures of Jive was my iPhone camera.