I added this page for anyone that has a story that tells of anyone's valiant efforts of love for these wonderful God sent creatures that we are so blessed to have in our lives.
In memory of Sulphur’s Primitive Link (by Jaime Smallwood)
April 4, 2004-October 7, 2005
The date is 4/4/04 on a sunny, bright mid-morning not quite two months after adopting two wild mustang mares from the February adoption at the South Florida fairgrounds. I was out feeding the horses and stopped to check the small bay mare that we named Sulphur's Sego Lily as she was due any day. She was happily eating her grain and all appeared normal, with wary glances at me. Then I looked underneath her and saw milk was dripping slowly from her teats, and as if taking that as a cue, she stopped mid chew and turned around and laid at my feet and her water broke. It all happened so fast that I barely had time to think. My Mom grabbed the video camera and started filming as I snapped photos, two perfect feet slid out followed by the rest of who I would come to call Sulphur's Primitive Link. "Link". He was wonderful! His birth went smooth as silk and he was standing 20 minutes later, and soon finding the food supply. His coat was creamy tan with a dark black stripe down his back and black zebra bars on his front and back legs, coupled together with sweet brown eyes and a soft gray nose. He was my dream come true and soon became the mascot of the Mustang Club. An hour after his birth I separated him from Lily and had him sitting in my lap on a lime green beanbag. That beanbag would become his best friend and favorite toy.(Thank you, Ms Terry) Time after time he would roll and lay on it, pawing and twirling then grabbing and nuzzling it. As he grew he would bite and stomp on it and would come galloping from the other side of the yard and land mid stride perfectly positioned on it. He was growing like a weed and I couldn't be happier. We would play and run together and if I called in my own special whinny, he would answer and come running. Two months later on June 10th our second foal, a pitch black filly named Wyoming's Epona Rose, “Epona” was born. Thrilled with a new playmate, the two were buddies and Link soon found that Kate (Epona's mom) had milk enough for two and would leave his own mother to be with his second family. Time flew and before I knew it he was 1 year old. He was turning into such a handsome "prince" and his color was changing every day. He was now half dun and half grullo. We celebrated his birthday and took photos galore.How little I knew that I would treasure those pictures so dearly. October 7, 2005. Link had just turned a year and 6 months. Just a normal typical autumn day with no inkling of the doom that was to come. It was afternoon and hay had been passed around and it was now time to grain. It had been raining and there were puddles in his paddock that he shared with two PMU draft colts. I called him and he wouldn't come, and thinking he merely didn't want to cross the water, I called again and he made his way over to me, stopping 5 feet from the gate and crumbling into a pine tree and laying at it's base. Shaken and scared I grabbed a leadline and pulled him up and out of the mud. He followed and tripped nearly going down again, his knees buckling and he was shaking. I led him to the round pen while Mommy phone a friend and asked if they had anything that would help him. I worked him around the pen at a walk as he found his feet again and they came over and gave him Gas-X and a shot of Banamine. It seemed to help and he passed manure, not a lot, but some. So I put him in a stall where I could watch him. He peed alot and I thought he was getting better, just mild colic. I was wrong. Half an hour later he began to roll and was getting sweaty. I grabbed him and took him to the pen again, trying to keep him on his feet, as minutes passed and he got harder and harder to keep up and began to ignore my cues and just drop to the ground and start rolling. This wasn't working. Mom immediately called the vet while I tied him up, hoping if he couldn’t move he wouldn't roll. He still rolled, dragging the rope down and breaking some boards. I put a cool hose on him as he was steaming and held him up and he continually tried to flip himself in the water, which was pooling at his hooves. Nothing was working, I walked him round and round for I don't know how long, always having to look back to make sure he wouldn't fall on me in his desperate search for relief, and pull him to his feet when he did fall and rolled. The vet arrived and gave him a shot to sooth him, it helped and he stood still. The vet emptied his stomach and did some other stuff I don't know what he called. I didn't care. All I wanted was to have my happy baby boy back again, but that was not to be and the vet could not get him stablized to move him to the clinic. His belly swelled and he got worse and worse, his pain now showing through the shots, in which he had had enough to knock out a horse for gelding and yet he was still walking around. At 12:45 in the morning, after 6 hours of fighting and walking, crying and hoping and three more shots of sedatives and still no relief, the vet called me over and said that it was time for me to let him go and I was the one who had to make that decision. I made the decision to stop his suffering and pain. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. To have someone who means so much to you, and to know the only way to save them from pain is to let them go, is a feeling I never want to feel again. We led him to our front yard and the vet gave him the shot, he slumped to the ground and sighed, as though knowing it was time to let go. He died in my arms, my tears on his face, as he shut his eyes for the last time and felt no more. I cried in my friend’s arms and finally gave in to fatigue; wanting only to sleep and wake in the morning to find it was all a bad dream. But when I awoke and looked outside, only two happy faces greeted me where there should have been three. I felt hollow inside and empty, in which I felt for a long time. Now 6 months later and its his second birthday that I write this and bring closure. After a twist of fate almost two months earlier, I have a young black colt who has the same eyes and the same face though not the same color, and the same great heart. And I believe if he is not Link's spirit reincarnated, then he was sent by him. So I call him Nevada's Dark Spirit Chaser. “Chase”. He will be forever chasing Link’s spirit. I no longer feel empty inside, and when I think of Link I feel happy, I know that's how he would want it. And so I write this tribute to my sweet prince, who will forever run free and without pain in my heart, and always live happily ever after, in my dreams.
Jaime Smallwood, 15
“In Memory of Link”
By: Jaime Smallwood
October 8, 2005
Why? Why did you leave? Why did you walk through the stars, and leave my empty heart so far behind? I miss you terribly, but I know you were in pain, and are happy now. But my eyes still long to see your gold dun coat, my ears still long to hear your shrill answering whinny when I call your name to an empty stall. While you are in peace, my soul still hurts, but as it is said, time heals all wounds, however the mark you left on my heart is not in pencil, but engraved forever, in stone. I miss you and love you and always will, please, don't ever forget me, I know I’ll never forget you.
Head of Grullo, coat of Dun, he's a little mix matched, but hey, he was young. We argued over which way he'd go, dun or gullo, but we'll never know. Our boy was a star, a gifted young colt; he was smart as a whip and quicker then most. He could fly through the air, or stand by your side, act like a butt, or be so good you could cry. He was Spanish by blood, a Sulphur mustang. His spirit was strong, and long were his bangs. His eyes full of fire, till the very end, he fought as he could, and just wouldn't give in. He was a special colt, our first baby ever, we taught him and raised him, and in our hearts he will stay forever. But he is now, away from the pain, and in some far away place, where the air is sweet and the grass is green. Our boy was something that can't be replaced, his spirit lives on and in our hearts, he will race. We must just remember, that he is safe and sound, and to this cruel earth is no longer bound.
Where are you? My eyes can no longer see your glistening coat in the warm rays of the sun, my ears can not hear your answering whinny when I call your name when I return from work. I can not smell your comforting earthy smell as I hug your soft neck and burrow into your soft mane. My hands can not feel your silky coat under them anymore, or feel your warm breath on my skin. Where have you gone? My heart can still feel you, but you are not there, why? My soul still waits for you, but is it in vain? Will I never know you again? No, I will always know you, you are always there, you have gone nowhere but to a place where time stands still and pain is a mere memory. You are lost from my material world, but in my heart will always stay, for as long as it takes, till we meet again, in a distant time and place.
I found this article on the Internet and I was so moved by this person's heartfelt effort of love that I had to let everyone read her beautiful but heartbreaking story....
I am adding a couple of pictures of this little guy. I was at the gather when they brought him in and I wanted to take him home but it was not allowed at the time. He was healthy and Chad figured he would be fine. When he got to the facility in Salt Lake he went drastically downhill and when I finally found out what had happened to him, Dayla Hepting had already adopted him and I was glad that someone was trying to save him. The last time I had seen him he looked good enough for someone to be able to save him so I thought he would have lived but life doesn't always go the way we think it will. I am just glad that this little guy was able to have the love that this wonderful person shared with him for the duration of his short but happy life.