Be My Valentine .......

Valentines Day started brightly , even though we hadn’t got to bed till after 2a.m. having had Mum here for a visit to the garden centre, her favourite meal, and cards till after midnight (oh that I might be as hale and enthusiastic as she at 93!). We had planned a breakfast of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon (an 80p pack of trimmings) with Bucks Fizz (on offer from Tesco), and just before I served this great luxury, I popped down the garden to my studio to pick up my Valentine card and present for John.


To my utter dismay, as I reached the studio verandah I saw old Butch, my dear old horsey buddy, lying down in the paddock just a little way along from my window, his tired body resting on bales of hay, with a young woman tenderly stroking him. It seems he collapsed yesterday, and as it was impossible to move him, he was visited by the vet, given painkillers, and remained there all night. We of course offered help, but could see that Butch’s very distressed owner wanted to spend a quiet time with him, and give comfort to her beloved friend while she still could.

We left her to it, and returned to our celebration breakfast much subdued. We could see various comings and goings from our window as we ate, though Butch himself was just out of sight beyond the studio. Father walked past a couple of times, mother too – then we saw mother pacing the paddock with a mobile to her ear, and wondered if she was calling in the vet …. We didn’t want to intrude on their sadness, so we decided a long walk to the next village and back to collect our Sunday papers would raise our spirits a little.

The winter sunshine kept us from feeling chilly , and we got to thinking what a lovely way for Bruce’s life to ebb away , nestled in the warmth of both the sun and this young woman’s love. We had discovered only recently that he was in fact 35 years old, which is extremely aged for a horse yet, like my mother, he enjoyed his declining years to the full. Only yesterday morning when I looked out from the house I saw Butch lingering by the window of my studio (where I had left the curtains open), obviously curious to see if I was around. Sadly I was too busy to pop down the garden then, so I missed one last ‘conversation’ with him, but over the past week I have enjoyed his company several times as he’s gazed at me rattling away on my computer.

When we arrived back from our long walk, I scurried down the garden to slip into the small gap between my studio window and the paddock fence, to see only a few sad mounds of abandoned hay. Magpies were fluttering about on the grass, a heron landed clumsily on the banks of the rhyne, and the sun continued to shine. Life goes on ……. who would have guessed that so sorrowful a happening had taken place in these beautiful surroundings. Many a tear will have been shed, not least by me, but Butch’s owners will be comforted by the knowledge that he was dearly loved and cared for.

As the sun is beginning now to set, I’m gazing dolefully out across the dejectedly vacant paddock. You will be missed so much my dear old friend.    R.I.P