Everyday Ethology: Walking Together, One Last Time

By Désirée Braganza, EdD, EBQ

Bearing Witness

I recently had the honor of supporting a barnmate through the unimaginably difficult decision to put both of her horses to sleep on the same day. With her gracious permission, I want to share some of what I experienced.

Death in the Wild

There is little definitive knowledge about how horses in the wild or those living freely experience the illness and death of a companion. Anecdotal accounts vary widely. Some horses refuse to leave the side of a struggling friend; others linger near a body that has already grown still. Some stand guard in quiet solidarity, while others seem to recognize the inevitable and accept it without hesitation.

The Weight of Choice

For those of us in relationships with our horse partners, the experience of death is just as individual. Sometimes we see the end approaching through diagnosis or prognosis. We have the ability—and the weighty responsibility—of making end-of-life decisions to prevent suffering, or to choose a peaceful passing on a good day rather than a tragic one that prolongs pain.

My friend Rosemary is one of the bravest women I know. Her decision was painstaking and cost her deeply. She analyzed every option, turned each possibility over in her hands, and arrived at the only answer that felt right.

Asher and Benji, two tall horses—seventeen and eighteen hands plus, respectively—had hearts and a capacity to love even bigger than their bodies. They were laid to rest on a beautiful day. The sun was shining. They would be buried on the farm they called home.

The Final Walk

That morning, Rosemary, two staff members, and I walked the boys through the forest, down a gently hilly path that opened into fields of bright green new grass. Their graves had already been prepared. The veterinarian, her assistants, and the farm owner were waiting.

What happened there felt like a blur. Everyone’s eyes brimmed with tears. It was heartbreakingly sad, yet achingly beautiful. The people present gave Asher and Benji the most sincere sendoff humanity could offer.

But what stayed with me was the last walk through the forest with Asher, the eighteen-hand Shire. Those final steps. Trees giving way to open pasture. The hush of the moment. At one point, Asher chose to walk between two trees instead of taking the wider path. Rosemary let him choose his steps, even though it meant a tight squeeze. That offering of self-autonomy was a gift in itself.

Synchrony and Connection

Synchrony is ever-present in horse herds and in the domestic partnerships we form with them. It signals camaraderie, safety, and self-expression. The embodiment of mindful steps, the quiet offering of encouragement—these moments of synchrony can be a source of comfort, even in grief.

Practical Considerations

When facing the decision to put a horse down, having a plan can ease some of the weight. Deciding on the time and place, whether a horse will be buried or transported, and who will be present can prevent difficult choices in the moment.

Grief and Remembrance

Afterward, grief moves at its own pace. Taking time to rest, reaching out for support, and finding a way to honor the horse’s memory can all help with healing. Whether it’s keeping a lock of mane, planting something in their honor, or simply sharing stories, what matters is holding onto the love that was shared.

Resources and Further Reading

About the Author