I had grand plans for a book launch for my second release, Strands of Hope, a book about how to grieve a horse, but they never came to fruition for various reasons. I schemed about doing a Facebook Live. I thought about having a giveaway–but then I realized, “Who wants to win a horse grief book? That’s weird!” Those ideas along with others went to the garbage pile. What has held me back from promoting my book is this: losing a horse is an unbearable pain, and who really wants to talk about that?

Not me. And I’m the author. 

I never wanted to recount what it was like to get that early-morning phone call in 2010.

I didn’t want to talk about all my tears.

I wanted to bury that pain as deep as I could, until. . .

I met a fellow horse lover who had just lost the horse love of her life.

I decided to share my story several years ago in this how to grieve a horse blog post because I was writing for just one person who was having a hard time.

This bereaved equestrian, the young woman who had to grieve a horse, was not someone I’d met in person–she lives in the U.K. Back in the day when I was active in Twitter chats, I knew her from that.

I tend to bottle my feelings, so when this kindred horse girl across the Atlantic unapologetically shared her deepest sorrow with a bunch of Twitter strangers, I wanted to connect with her so she didn’t feel alone.

I knew what it was like to abruptly lose a dear, sweet horse.

I had lived through that experience five years earlier and I could finally share without it zinging my heart.

My desire to tell this sad young woman that it was okay to be sad and not to feel stupid because you’re grieving a horse, superseded my discomfort in remembering my pain of losing DC.

I wanted to tell my new Twitter friend that people might say stupid things while trying to comfort, but to let it go and give them the benefit of the doubt that they are trying to be nice.

It turns out that even though I wrote that blog post for one equestrian, the message has reached countless equestrians. I’ve had people reach out to me via email or DM to express a recent horse loss and their sorrow.

Click here for resources to commemorate a horse.

When a mother of a little girl from South Africa reached out to thank me for helping her and her daughter feel less alone after the loss of their pony, I knew I needed to write a short book to amplify the message (emphasis on “short” because no one wants to read a long horse grief book). I  scoured online bookstores and was unable to find any books about how to deal with the death of a horse, even though there are TONS of generic books on how to grieve a pet like a dog or cat.

Actually, I found one out-of-print book which I was able to order from a used bookstore. When I read it there was a complete chapter on euthanasia and I thought, “I’m out!”

I figured there were probably others like me who don’t need the scientific explanation of how their horse is put to sleep, but just wanted a little pick-me-up in book form so they didn’t think they were nuts for losing their appetite or good night’s sleep because their horse had died.

I surmised there were also people like me who temporarily lost the desire to be around horses because it amplified the emptiness.

I pondered questions like “What do I do with all DC’s stuff?” and figured I wasn’t the only horse girl who’d had those questions.

My heart horse DC.

There was also a protective part of me that came out after I was at a convention and met a “pet grief coach.” She gave me her card and when I looked up her website, it wasn’t apparent what her credentials were for coaching/counseling people and her fees for one session exceeded that for one month’s board for my horse!

I remember telling my uncle about this and he laughed and said he could totally envision grieving people gladly handing over several hundreds of dollars for a phone call with an “expert.” (Call me practical, frugal and Midwestern–because I am. The idea of paying big bucks to a person of questionable training to help ease the pain of losing a horse felt off.)

Anyway, I realized I didn’t really have “fixing someone’s grief” credentials either, I’m not a psychologist or minister. Then I thought I actually did possess “credentials” to communicate a message with grieving horse owners–I’ve been there. I have lost a heart horse, and if I continue to keep horses in my life, I will undoubtedly lose another one.

My book about grieving the loss of a horse, Strands of Hope, won’t heal a broken heart, and it won’t take away the pain you or someone you care about has felt or will feel regarding losing a horse. However, it will help you know you are not alone, and you are in good company. This story is not just my story, but that of several lovely and generous fellow horse girls who I interviewed regarding this unique pain we equestrians encounter when our horse dies.

I am so grateful to my longtime, real-life friend Amy and Instagram and blogging friends Laurie, Stephanie, Lauren and Melina for sharing their beautiful and sorrowful stories with us.

A lot of horse love has gone in to this project, as well as love for our fellow passionate horse friends.

It has been an honor to bring Strands of Hope to life, even though I hope it’s one of those horse books you never have to read.

CLICK HERE to purchase your copy of Strands of Hope: How to Grieve the Loss of a Horse.

Thanks for reading this blog post, and I’m sorry for your loss.

Leave a Comment: Have you lost a horse/s? How did you manage? What were some actions that helped you heal?

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I'm Susan and this is my horse Knight. We have been a blogging team since 2015 and we're glad you're here. Tally ho!

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