August 16, 2018

Fina

We met Fina in our first weeks on the farm. Brian, the Mennonite neighbor rode the aging horse, like a teenager would drive a racecar, straight down the uneven hills to gather up cows for milking.  I felt protective of her, with her tender white face bloody in spots under Brian’s harsh control of rough reigns. Those were the days we let the neighbors graze to keep the land from being squatted, before we were able to move on-site.

Fina was part of the team that built our water system, along with her daughter Dixie and neighbors, Bernardo and his sons Melvin and Andres, and our first volunteers.  With wooden handmade racks on their backs, the horses hauled numerous loads of block, gravel, and sand uphill into the greenbelt forest to make a dam to capture water so that we could live in this run-down farm.

Bernardo let me mount Fina on the road one day. I was a typical girl who had never owned a horse, but cherished memories of when I’d been so lucky.

Bernardo and his family kept Fina and her daughters Dixie and Canaria, at their place down the road, using them in their work on local farms, to mend fences and herd cattle. These Peruvian Trotter horses were trained to move with rider on top, as the rider opened and closed barb wire gates.

We learned later, that the horses were owned by a family that had moved back to the states. We met the owner, Phillip Bates, about five years ago, when he came down to take care of some business. He offered to sell Dixie to us for $100. I’d always wanted to own a horse, so when David reached me at a workshop to ask, I excitedly begged him to say yes.

Dixie’s mother Fina showed up alongside Dixie to live with us. She was evidently not for sale. Our Spanish wasn’t great, and maybe that was an advantage for them, as we also ended up pasturing Fina’s other daughter, Canaria, as well, who gave birth months later, in our lower pasture to a beautiful little colt. We had lots of pasture after the neighbors found another place for their cows, so didn’t mind keeping the horses for Bernardo, who had befriended us and helped in many ways.

The only time Fina ever kicked me, was when I was on Dixie to help Bernardo take the colt and Canaria to be with them. She was mad that he was taking them from her. As a grandma, I got it. And it really didn’t hurt that much.

It took a while to get close to Fina. She had a serious problem with tick/louses sucking on the skin in her ears.

I once saw Melvin tie her to a tree and spray stinky pesticide into her ears. She hated that and backed away whenever a hand came close. I vowed to find more natural solutions and to earn her trust. She loved the bananas and attention as she grew to trust us.

Over time, with education and guidance from volunteers who knew horses, she would let me touch her, but she was very sensitive.

One of those young experienced volunteer riders rolled with Fina down a slope where she’d lost her footing in a leaf-cutter ant hole. Fina calmly waited at the bottom of the hill while Jessi caught up with her; only, bruised, with nothing broken.

We would often have to drag her up the hill from the pasture to the house to put a saddle on her, but she would still ride like lightening if you were courageous enough to mount. It was difficult to get her to slow down, even as she aged.

In the last two years, Fina was our geriatric patient. Her immune system was compromised, and louse-ticks and mange were a challenge to control.  We managed as best we could with injections, topical creams, internal medicines, mineral and medicinal food concoctions, and regular brushing.

We lost Dixie a few years ago, when she was bitten by a snake. Luckily Fina didn’t suffer that painful fate.

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, I found Fina in a favorite spot on the trail over the dam wall forming the now silted-in pond.  She looked old and tired, but mostly tick-free. While I was brushing her, she took a step backward and lost her footing. I tried, but was unable to keep her from slipping into the ravine below.

David answered his phone on the second ring and rushed down with ropes and come-along. Still with all our efforts, she was simply too weak to get out of the narrow steep slippery gully. We gently helped lower her to the bottom, past vines and trees, where she could drink and lay more comfortably.

When it started to rain, we rolled the wheelbarrows of equipment up to the house, resigned to let nature to take its course. She was in a beautiful place that she could walk out of, if she could get herself up.

Sadly, we found when we checked on her this morning that she had been unable to get to her feet and had stopped breathing.

In the last two years, she was too weak to ride, but free with plenty of pasture to eat. She was loved, and cared for. She seemed to enjoy being with her daughter Canaria and the sheep.

She was a sweet horse, who gave us good energy, helped carry heavy loads and build good soil.

We were fortunate to have had such a beautiful majestic animal as part of our family.

Now she’s free to ride like lightening on the other side.

Godspeed, my Fina-girl.