I Killed Three Horses Today - Insight 11

I killed three horses today.

They lay beside the highway only feet beyond the entrance to the ranch—broken, bloody and dead. The three beautiful just-gelded horses were irreplaceable. One, my brother’s and the other two ready for a loving home somewhere beyond the Hashknife. Two were already gone upon arrival, but the third required the pull of my trigger.

I stood broken-hearted, drew my pistol and took the life that still suffered before me. Thankfully, I have done that dread-filled act enough in the past that he was gone without any further pain. The worst part was despite my use of a firearm on only one, the blood of all three were on my hands. I was the one who opened the gate. I was the one who failed to close it. I was the one who released them to their death.

The classic rule of “leave a gate the way you found it” was broken yesterday as we shipped calves. My focus remained so much on loading cattle that I let the smallest of details evade my attention. I told myself I needed to shut the gate before we departed on our final trip to Billings. I just never did.

My father will tell you it was his fault for not checking, but that simply is not true. Details cause the biggest impact. The smallest of which cost lives. I lived by that code for many years, but this time I fumbled the biggest responsibility we possess on this ranch—to ensure the welfare of our herds. I am an adult. I cannot, nor should not, rely on others to do my job—it is mine alone. No one should be relegated to look after me and pick up the voids where my inabilities lie.

I can be angry that drivers sped by on their way to work. I can be angry we left gates to the highway open for hay deliveries. I can be angry that no one shut the pasture gate that released the horses in the first place. But ultimately, the anger must reside with only me. Accountability is quickly being lost in this world and I refuse to permit that now. I must face the fact that at the end of this event, it is me with whom I should be angry—no one else. I caused this. I allowed it to happen. I killed those three horses.

Despite good intentions and a focus on a long, hard day’s work shipping calves one minor mistake led to enormous tragedy. That is how I would have to justify the loss of three beautiful geldings today…had they perished.

Like prisoners with nothing but time at their disposal to discover an escape, the geldings spent all night migrating to the highway. The ominous call of a neighbor came as the sun barely cracked the morning darkness and I sat in sweats with coffee in hand, still bleary eyed. Within moments I found myself dressed and running out the door. As I sped on a four-wheeler to find the loose livestock, I, with great luck, looked in the right direction to find them lying beside the road healthy and unharmed. After a few minutes of throat-clutching fear, we brought them back onto the ranch and had them contained once more.

No scrapes. No scratches. Just a bit of morning frost upon their backs and a bit of unwanted morning excitement. Fortune and a well-timed morning wake-up call led to starting the day back where we believed we already were.

Had all those events not perfectly aligned, I undoubtedly know that I killed three horses today.