Losing Stevie was hard for so many who knew him. He was a fixture at the rescue farm. He had freedom to walk the farm with the few other old timers that just wander around the property. Being blind never stopped him from getting around. He had a special "best friend" named Albert. Albert is a Nubian goat. He is affectionately called Fat Albert for obvious reasons. Stevie and Albert ate and slept in the same stall and strolled around together as constant companions. They were featured on a PAX-TV show called Animal Tales. Stevie never pinned his ears at anyone or anything. He was totally comfortable with his blindness. He taught many adults and children about disabilities, I should say abilities because many people didn't know he was blind, and some would argue with me and insist he could see. He was truly a Wonder Horse!

I was in South Carolina with my family that Saturday. We took the day off since my niece was down from Chicago. We wanted to spend time with her and show her the South. I saw Stevie at 10:30 in the morning when we were leaving when I did a last minute barn check. The wonderful Saturday volunteers had everything under control like they always do. I had nothing to worry about. It was at 3:00 pm when Brigitte called and said Stevie was colicky. I told her where the Banamine was. She gave him an injection. I wasn't too worried because Stevie was never sick. I thought he might have a little gas and it would pass. Banamine usually gets them over the discomfort and they get back to being themselves in a few hours. I stayed close by the phone just in case. By 4:00 pm Brigitte called and said he isn't any better. Another volunteer who was compelled to come out that Saturday was also there. She said something made her come out that day. She hadn't been here in a few months but her heart drew her and told her she needed to go today. Little did she know how right her feelings were. It was Izelda. She is very experienced with horses. They both agreed Stevie was really not showing any signs of improvement. We headed back towards the farm, short day off but it was an emergency. When I arrived at the top of the driveway, the horse trailer was hooked up and Stevie was loaded. He was laying down in discomfort in the big trailer. I took a quick look at him, said a few loving words then got into the drivers seat and headed to Athens, GA to the University of Georgia (UGA) Vet Hospital. They could do surgery and we needed to help Stevie as quickly as possible. Another volunteer, Julia, who had been at the farm came along to help. I could feel Stevie moving up and down as he tried to ease his pain. It was heart-wrenching to know how badly Stevie hurt. I thought of going to my local vet and having Stevie euthanized in the trailer so he can escape his pain. I could feel him silently crying out for help. I had the gut feeling it was his small intestine by the way he acted and that is so painful. UGA is only an hour more away so I decided to say a prayer for Stevie and get him into surgery so he could be helped. Stevie was so willing to walk around the hospital, go on the scale to be weighed, go in the stocks to be worked on, the vets and students were very impressed with his willingness and calmness to venture into an unknown place while being totally blind. They all agreed he was worth saving. They quoted a price of $4,000 - 7,000. for the surgery. I got out a credit card and took a hard swallow. He is worth every penny of it. I'll sell some furniture if I have to, I'll sell something. I can live without a lot. After all, I lived on the farm without a furnace for the first 6 years, no air conditioning. I learned how to chop firewood pretty good! It is not a sacrifice at all. It is a lucky person to have so many wonderful horses whinny at me every day.

It was 11:00 pm when the surgery started. There was a small window where Julia and I stood watching helplessly as they took out different intestines and probed through Stevie's insides. They found the problem, it was the small intestine. Two hours passed. We restlessly stared, occasionally commenting about the wonder of horses, especially Stevie. I was motioned to go to the door and speak with the veterinarian. The surgeon also met me. They said about 8 foot of the small intestine is in a place where they cannot get it to it to remove it. That piece is dead. There is plenty of intestine to tie together but the piece that is irremovable will cause Stevie to become septic and he will die a painful death. They said he didn't have even a 1% chance to survive. It felt like my ears closed and my mind was somewhere else, I must be having a nightmare. Then I felt like I was coming in and out of consciousness as I watched their lips move but couldn't hear anything. I had to give them the authorization to put Stevie out of pain. I came there to put Stevie out of pain, I sped home from South Carolina and rushed to UGA to put Stevie out of pain...now I had to finalize it. Then the tears started to roll down my face, I knew Stevie would never come back to his old stall, he would never walk around with Albert again, he would never teach people about how wonderfully kind he is ever again. He would be gone from all of us who loved him so dearly. I gave permission to euthanize him and went back to the window. I also asked them to sew him up so I could take him home. I wanted him buried here at the farm, his home, Albert's home, my home. I know the rescue farm is also home to many volunteers who are dedicated to making the world a little better for horses and humans. It is a peaceful place. Stevie will rest here in peace.

I didn't realize how much of our daily life at the farm consisted of keeping Stevie safe from injury. I scanned the grounds every time I walked out the door of the house...there is a chair moved out too far from the wall, a car parked too close to the South side of the barn in Stevie's familiar path. Inside the barn isle way, someone left a bucket or a dog was sleeping right in Stevie's way as he walked out the barn. Close the gate someone left open near the driveway so Stevie doesn't go out into unfamiliar territory. I have always wanted to add a front porch with a picket fence to my old Cape Cod house but since Stevie wandered around that area, I gave up that project. He was only 17 and I expected him to live to be 30 so I totally forgot about that idea. Now that Stevie is gone, I think about him everyday, every time I walk out the door. I scan the farm and it breaks my heart because he isn't here. I think of him every time I walk out the door. I would trade any porch or picket fence to have him back wandering around. I have the feeling he is watching over us with bright eyes and enjoying the view from the Rainbow Bridge. How lucky we all were to have Stevie Wonder Horse with use for nearly four years.

Cheryl