Hopping back to the year 1999, Christmas time. We have just moved into our new house. Keagen, our son, is nearly eighteen months old, and Briony just turned nine. Yup, big age difference… we obviously did not fare so great on the family planning side. That’s another story for another day.
What is the first thing you do when you move into a new house? If your name is Yvette, you buy a pony. That’s how we acquired Roland, or better still, how he acquired us.
Roland belonged to a family that rescued him from slaughtering. His full name is Foresyte Roland, and he is a Welsh X Nooitgedacht pony. The Nooitgedacht ponies are found in South Africa, a very hardy, small-built pony that is mainly used for herding cattle and farm work. They are stubborn but very talented, hardworking and they have the courage of a lion so South African people love the breed. Roland was bred at Onderstepoort, the Veterinary Faculty situated north of Pretoria. We have all his scans and data that the faculty gathered on him and his mom. These ponies are used for lab testing to ensure the safety of vaccines and medicines distributed among the multi-million horse industry. Roland was born on 16 October 1988, weighing a whopping 31 kg. He lived his first few years of his life being poked and prodded by students and vets. This led to his active dislike of any person approaching him wearing a white jacket or having any resemblance to a needle in their hands.
During the time that Roland was at OP, they managed to amass a surplus of ponies. Time came to start thinning the numbers, and as per policy, the first choice was rehoming. OP put up a notice informing the horse fraternity that there were approximately 30 ponies looking for homes. They had not been backed and would be going “voetstoots.” One of the instructors in the Vaal triangle heard about this, organized transport, and arrived at OP with the intention of “adopting” three or four ponies. Upon arrival, she was bowled over by the beautiful animals all seeking homes. She quickly made her choices but left one little sad-faced grey pony behind. This pony played on her mind the entire night, and the next morning she hooked her box and made the long trek back to OP, hoping he was still there.
That’s how Roland came home.
He was sold to a family that had two young children who were very keen budding horsewomen. This partnership took the youngest of the two girls and Roland to the top of the children’s dressage in the country.
For the next five years, they climbed the ladder of success and reached the pinnacle in the year that the rider finished as a pony rider and had to upgrade to what we call junior status in our country. This meant that a few hard decisions had to be made – she would no longer be allowed to ride the pony in competitions, and therefore Roland would become a ‘pot plant’.
It so happened that this was the year we were looking for a pony for Briony. Christmas was coming, and as fate would have it, our paths crossed. It was meant to be as the entire procedure of changing hands went without hiccups. Briony met Roland, and the two got acquainted while Mom made plans and prepared for the big surprise. There would be a pony “under the tree” for Christmas day…
Christmas day 1999, and as usual, our household was up early. The children were beside themselves. It was baubles, tinsel, and gifts everywhere, and there was an air of festivity hanging over the house. We decided that before all the presents were opened, we would go for a drive. The children questioned this break in tradition, but we said nothing to ruin the surprise.
We quickly got dressed and bundled the family into the car. I had arranged with the owner of the stables that Roland’s stable would be decorated, and he would be wearing his new Christmas halter. We stopped at the stables and were met by a very indignant little pony, his snorting and blowing left us in no doubt that he didn’t appreciate the festive stable and all the fuss. I will never forget Briony’s face. The disbelief, joy, and excitement right there, coupled with Roland’s small nostrils blowing in the wind, indicative of his displeasure!
This was the start of a relationship that had lasted through adulthood and many family crises. The two worked their way through all the dressage competitions, bringing home so many awards and prizes. Roland was very determined to keep Briony grounded, and she often came home tearful and dusty after he decided he wasn’t going to comply with her wishes and would unceremoniously dump her. Roland turned 33 last year, and Briony, 31, and he still stayed the apple of her eye. Whenever she would arrive at our stables, he was her first port of call. He was getting very old and seemed to lose a tooth every time the dentist visited, but he was still a feisty little bugger. We fed him a special mixture of cut lucerne combined with soaked concentrate and he basically sucked his food like one would through a straw, but our horse nutritionist said that he was as fat and healthy as any show pony and still had many years to enhance our lives with his antics.
He hated a bath, a vet, and anything that was done to him that he viewed as an injustice. This was met with nostrils compressed like a spinster compresses her mouth when hearing any sexual innuendo flung her way. He was quite haughty and believed that he was the ruler of the yard. We kept him in a paddock with the donkeys, sheep, and goats, and he still had days when he chased them all into a corner and wouldn’t let any of them move until he had enough of his game. We humored him and gave him a little teff and a small bunch of fresh lucerne when he came into his stable, which he attacked with his gums and then spat out in small round cuds, leaving clues of his presence.
To keep his old man limbs safe, we did not let him out in the big paddock with all the other horses. He was adjacent to them, and wherever Roland went, you would find a trace of chewed, balled-up grass marking the spot. He tried. He was not about to allow life to take away his little pleasures, and being a fully-fledged horse at all times, this was his dream job.
Where he used to be a show pony, he had now become a show pot plant. He had a very best friend named Okkie, a retired dressage stallion that has been with us since 2018. A small fence separated the two because we would hate for any incident where our Roly would be harmed during a playful session with Okkie, but the two of them were always nose to nose during the day, exchanging horse pleasantries as they went. The big, beautiful bay stallion with the full name of Octavius A, a registered Dutch warmblood, together with his small grey friend made quite an imposing picture when we saw them in the paddock That’s how I like to remember them.
In October of 2022, we suddenly encountered a sick Roland. In all the years we have had him, he had never gotten sick. It scared the bejesus out of us. Luckily, our grooms are very quick to pick up any changes in our horses, and we were notified immediately when he refused to eat his lunch. Roland not eating his food was unheard of. Briony and I raced to the stables, breaking all speed records. Within minutes, Roly was loaded into the horsebox and driven to our local vet. We called the rooms ahead of our arrival and said we were on our way with our pony, but I don’t think they believed us as there was a perplexed look of befuddlement on their faces when the box pulled up in front of the practice.
Roland was severely dehydrated, and he immediately had three bottles of saline and glucose solution rushed through his veins via a drip. We anxiously awaited the test results, and once they came back, it just showed a small irregularity in the kidneys. Roly was treated, and we took him home.
The next day, it became very clear that our boy was not going to get better. His kidneys had started to fail, and while he was okay for the moment, he was living on medication and borrowed time. These decisions are always the hardest. The problem is that putting a horse to sleep and burying it is like burying a fat person. There are challenges everywhere. Not only that, but there is also the fact that we are now thinking of ending the life of somebody that has been in our family for 23 years. It cannot be done without a lot of tears and upset. The worst part is the planning and waiting. First, we have to dig a tremendously big hole. We cannot do this ourselves ; we have to call in reinforcements and get equipment in to do it for us. This is also dependent on availability. So, we contact our local grave digger, Ockert who has a huge machine. He agrees to come and dig the hole with his grave digging machine. Our place of choice is agreed upon we would like to lay him to rest next to our other horse, Ari. Ockert starts digging, but we have not had rain in 4 months, and the ground is so hard that the machine looks like it is going to break. It moans and groans and Ockert who started the whole digging thing with a compassionate smile on his face, now 4 hours later, he has had enough. The hole was long and deep but rather narrow. We decide to work with what we had. There was nothing else we could do.
The second bit of news that came from Ockert was just as disheartening as the first. He would not be able to fill the hole for us. We would have to do that by shovel, as he was not going to be around for the next few days.
I counted myself, Briony, Lennie, and Square, and knew we would need extra hands to fill the hole. Enter the plot children from next door. Two young men who have graced my doorstep for the past 4 years, and they were not scared of work. I called and asked their mom if they could come help me, but the initial response made me giggle.
‘Hi Neighbor, I was wondering if your two boys would come help me fill a grave. I am going to have my pony put to sleep, and I need help.’
Neighbor: ‘Wait, the boys are here; let me ask them…’
In the background, I hear snippets of the conversation: ‘horse, grave, help…’
Then I hear the boys’ voices: ‘WHAT?! DIG GRAVES FOR TANNIE YVETTE’S HORSE!! DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG THEY ARE?!’
Hahahahahahahahah… couldn’t help but enjoy the shock and horror in their voices until their mom put their minds to rest and told them that it was only filling the grave, not digging it.
Bless those kids. They arrived at my gate, shovels and all, at least 8 times during the fateful day, and every time I had to send them back, telling them that the vet had not arrived yet.
These were the worst and the best of times. Roland had the best of us as we spoiled him rotten over the two days that we waited. He had so many chopped-up carrots, and where we were so meticulous in our feeding of our horse, we had given him carte blanche to eat what he wanted. He loved every minute. He was high on painkillers and meds, went all over the yard, ate what he wanted, and basically had the key to the farm. Our yard is full of old people. Everybody is retired, and we accept the fact that we would be responsible for their crossing from one world to the next, as we were the last stop on the busy tracks of life. So, after much deliberation, we decided that Roly would be sent to the Rainbow Bridge with his best friend Okkie in tow.
Okkie had recently turned 25, and his teeth were slowly disintegrating. We had had a year of mouth abscesses, the dentist, vet, and nutritionist visiting on a regular basis, and he was steadily losing weight. We knew it would be a matter of time and he would have to go the same way as Roly, so we made the hard decision to face the truth and not let him suffer. This was nearly the undoing of me but definitely the undoing of Briony. True to the Wilde legacy, we lost it in spectacular fashion, cried and screamed and cried some more, and then when we had done, we picked ourselves up and put ourselves back together. This, my friends, is how we roll; this is our family trademark.
We waited the entire Friday for our vet to arrive, swallowing herbal calming remedies that gave us the shits, and in between, we granted Okkie and Roland every wish. The long wait Friday was in vain as the vet had to attend to an emergency and called to let us know he would only be coming through on Saturday. We went home defeated. There was no sleep that night and the next morning I received a call from the vet before 6 am. He was on his way. Whilst it was hard then I now know everything happens as it must. It was certainly the best time of the day. All the horses were in their stables eating breakfast. Roland and Okkie had their breakfast, they were sedated and then calmly left this world for another. All of this happened whilst the sun was just coming up. It was a beautiful morning befitting the last moments of two beautiful souls. We couldnt have asked for better. The old saying of bad things happen to make way for good things to take their place is so true.
The vet left, and Briony, myself, and Lennie started the long process of covering the hole. This hole now had a white pony lying beside a bay stallion, looking quite serene in their forever sleep. I felt too bad to call the burial society, as it was really early morning, but to my joy, I saw the two boys arrive, shovels in tow, and without any conversation, they fell in next to us and started shovelling the dirt. They must have been watching the road and had seen the vet arrive and leave.The young gardener who worked on the plot next door to us also arrived and started helping. Everybody was rather quiet but I was touched by the hands that were so willing to assist with this arduous and rather gruesome task.
A little later the wind turned, and the sand started blowing back to us, so we started shovelling harder and faster. In the process, we all got covered in sand. I can truly state that I have never had so much sand on my person as on that Saturday. In my hair, my teeth, down my t-shirt, covering every inch of me, and my Crocs became landfill too. By now, the dogs had joined us as they were tired of waiting for the humans to finish up, and quickly they were being covered in sand as well. My greatest fear was that Stinky (aka Gizmo), the smallest of my troop, would fall in the hole and be covered by sand before we even realized that he was gone. This started the ‘Where is Stinky?!’ game which kept us entertained during the entire grave covering episode and lightened the mood somewhat.
In our country, we have a “Burial Procession” that comprises of a group of people that you can hire for a burial. These people have different packages or levels of involvement which range from small groups that will come and lament the demise of the departed soul in small measures to a big group that will come and fall on the floor and raise hell for the right price.
At Be Our Guest, we have our own burial procession in the form of three goats. They arrived unannounced, uninvited and not interested in any form of payment, just wanting to make mayhem. Their intrusion was much appreciated, it brought smiles to tear stained faces. They chased the dogs, then they chased the grave fillers, then they chased each other, and when they had enough of that, they chased the sand and the leaves and just caused general mayhem.
In our mid morning break, they did arm-horn wrestling with the plot kids, trying to match the strength against that of the young boys. There was a lot of groaning and giggles and screams of “don’t fart!” which lifted our spirits. Danny and Stitch were the instigators with Lilo watching from the sidelines. Stitch was crowned the overall winner as nobody could match his strength, and as quickly as they arrived, they toddled off again. Very smug indeed. The entire task of filling the grave with sand took 5 nearly 6 hours, many hands and by the end we were too tired to be sad.
Roland had been a family member for 23 years. Nobody can say his departure didn’t affect us.It still makes me sad to see his empty stable today.
So, now comes to an end the chapter of a little white pony that filled our lives with happiness and that of a big stallion that had an amazing presence wherever he went.
We like to remember them this way, walking down the paddock lane with the morning sunlight shining on their beautiful coats.
The most poignant of tributes came from Briony, and it is with great admiration that I include her words in this chapter as I sign off. Her words, so articulate, just serve as testimony to what an awesome being Roly was.
‘How does one say goodbye to someone that has been there for more years together than apart? To put into words all that you encompassed? It’s impossible, you meant too much and then so much more.
Today was meant to be a celebration of your 34th birthday; however, it was not meant to be as we said our final goodbye yesterday.
It’s an odd feeling waking up knowing you are no longer here when you’ve always been consciously and unconsciously on my mind.
There are too many memories to recount from our lifetime together, so many adventures all of 23 years together. An unimaginable amount of time that we got to have with you, and how very lucky we were.
You entered my life as a Christmas gift in 1999, and who would have thought you would become so deeply entwined and loved by our entire family, even those highly opposed to horses. You became a person; you made our family of four into a family of five; you became no longer just an animal. Losing you feels as though we have lost a limb.
You taught me so many valuable life lessons, listened to all my secrets and kept them safe, made me cry, taught me to have an incredible amount of patience, that giving up was not an option, to work through my fear – because let’s face it, someone had to be the brave one to walk past all the ‘scaries’, to love deeply, and that it was never ever your fault if something went wrong but mine and mine alone.
You were my best friend, my teacher, my first love.
We will miss your antics that made our hearts beat faster for fear that you would hurt yourself, your little white face that would glow when treats would come your way, the way your nostrils would get really, really small when you were displeased by something, how you loved being the center of attention, your nickers of greeting, and just you. We will really just miss you being around.
Who would have thought the final walk in the early morning sunshine would be so hard to do? However, we saw you becoming tired, your body starting to shut down. We wanted you to go as you were, happy and full of life, not in a traumatic way that would rip you from us, so we put aside our selfishness of wanting to keep you forever and made the decision to let you go, surrounded by those who loved you as you took your final breath. Not many are as lucky to share this journey with their loved ones, and we are grateful to have shared this final adventure with you. Okkie, Sunny, Fury, and Kimberly are waiting for you, Mr. Roly.
Sleep well, my dearest Old Man, and just know you were well and truly loved.
Your wings have finally been released. ❤’
Forsyte Roland “Roly”
16 October 1988 – 15 October 2022
