I was aware that what we found would not be good, but nothing could’ve prepared me for this. What hit me first when I walked through the entrance, was the expression on everyone’s faces. Traumatised and shocked they were on their way out of the building to find solace in the cool Cape breeze outside. Some of them even shoved me out of the way to pass me as quick as possible and reach the fresh air just in time to give into the nausea.
And then the stench hit me as I reached the stable. I knew that decomposition is rather quick, but really didn’t expect it to have been this extensive in only two days. Sadly I look at the unbelievable sight in front of me as the events of the past weekend flashes through my mind. Images of the poor animal waiting by the side of the road with one of the inspectors together with several bystanders, and us racing down the street. Never having had opportunity to drive along on such a emergency warranting sirens and lights, I did not realise that one’s heart rate can battle your chest quite as much. I guess it would be from excitement and worry simultaneously, fearing not to arrive in time. And the traffic letting us through at intersections, because in the area we were racing through, the community realises that the sirens, lights and horsebox would mean that a horse needed assistance urgently. And the horses are this community’s source of income.
As we examine the horse, one of the inspectors tells of the fate of this particular horse, of how immaculate his mane used to be, how clean he always was kept when Mario was still alive, and that it would break his heart had he seen how his horse is being looked after now. Sir Alfred was always strong, healthy and shiny. And before me now he stood sticky, emaciated, oily mane full of sand and mud, and very very ill. After we transported him to the clinic and whilst we waited for the vet, we ran the currycomb through his mane in an attempt to bring some honour to this poor animal. Mario would have liked it that way.
The vet explained the irony of this situation to us. Invariably he deals with countless colic horses, but as most of the horses he easily cure are race, show or riding horse, the difference would come in when and how the owner would call him. Usually a responsible owner would call out the vet the moment he or she suspected colic or even just a mild deviation in the horse’s condition. Then the treatment is quite uncomplicated and successful. But when a carty calls us for help, the horse had probably already been sick for days and he himself might even already have tried a traditional alternative, e.g. marijuana, and now the horse is not in a workable condition anymore. Now he asks for help. All sick and debilitated and now also complicated with additional symptoms on account of the home remedies they had tried, and probably on death’s door.
After the internal examination medicine is administered together with a lubricant for the stomach and Sir Alfred is lead into the stable, and gently and with great care he is helped to lay down on the soft, thick layer of sawdust. A long day and night waited for them keeping vigil, but at sundown his dramatic decline and traumatic condition left the officers no other alternative but to make the final unavoidable decision.
Heartbroken, with the horse’s head resting on her lap, she would still hold him down with the one arm as he fights the pain, thrashing his head violently from side to side. She whispers: ”Wait, my boy, you’re going to hurt yourself. It’s OK, Sir Alfred, go. Go to Guto. He is waiting for you.” An with that he was relieved from his pain, while the two inspectors knelt over him sobbing uncontrollably…
And now, here in front of me, I’m faced with this horrible sight. Strange how every individual handles this differently. It occurs to me how incredibly interesting and grand God’s creation is. How He made sure that the chemical composition would be sustaining certain functions during life, and then after death, those same chemicals would enable different functions to facilitate decomposition. To dust. Back into the earth. As it should be. A full circle.
And while we do the necessary to restore the work area and eliminate the smell, whilst supporting one another, I thank God for the thoughts of peace and serenity He bestows upon me. In order to help these wonderful people through this horrible time, I needed to concentrate on this calming scene that plays off in my mind, methodically allow the necessary to be done whilst calming my spirit over these sickening moments of the present...
I think of Mario, or as he was better known to us, Guto, combing the clean untangled mane of this trusted horse while his hand strokes Sir Alfred’s winter fur gently. Proud. Peaceful. Satisfied. Together again. Forever.
In South Africa today security plays a vital part in any business or private home. This book and the volumes to follow, will guide you step by step through the essential precautionary measures to be taken in protecting your family and valuables. From employing security guards, evacuation of your site and security measures to burglar bars and alarms in your private home.
a Book compiled by me from experience gained after 10 years in the security industry as Industrial relations officer with Nosa qualifications, 1st Aid, fire protection and also S.O.B. grade A.
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