Luckiest Of All- My Horse | A Colic Horse Story

This is a colic horse story that tells about ailing Good Knighthawk and how his master tried hard to get him recovered and who eventually recovered.

Luckiest Of All- My Horse | A Colic Horse Story

By Gloria ColterMy 17-year-old chestnut Morgan gelding, Good Knighthawk, walked obediently into my horse trailer.  As I tied him, I said, “Little Buddy, this will be the ride for your life.  I just hope we can win this one.”  Only minutes before, my vet had given him an injection for serious colic pain.  Hopefully this would keep him easy until I could get him to the University of Georgia Vet School 40 miles away.

It was almost sundown as I pulled out of our driveway.  My mind went back to five years before, when I had made a similar trip with another favorite Morgan gelding, Foothill Jolly Joker.  He, too, was 17 that year, and after extensive colic surgery, recovered and was still usable for pleasure riding.  Would the Lord bless me again in the same way?  The percentage of horses that recover to full use after this procedure was very small.

Just a month before I had gone on my first short-term mission trip to Ukraine with members of my church.  I had spent my last savings on that trip.  I knew from experience that the surgery would be well over two thousand dollars if the doctors would attempt to save Knighthawk.  Should I risk that much money and possibly lose my horse to boot?
I started praying as I drove.  I said, “Lord, I know that Knighthawk belongs to you and you only loaned him to me.  I thank you for that.  If it is your will for him to die from this illness, please don’t let me spend money that should be used for another mission trip to glorify you.  I will gladly give him back to you.  If it is your will that he get well, please let me know without a doubt that you want me to allow the doctors to do surgery.”

Then as an afterthought I said, “And Lord, please help me find the money for the operation if you tell me to go ahead.”  With that, I turned my problem over to Him and took care of the business at hand, which was get there safely, as quickly as possible.
Halfway there, a fast food sign just ahead caught my attention.  I knew I’d better grab a hamburger now because I was most likely in for a long night.  I pulled in and parked, cut off the motor and jumped out, and then it hit me what I’d just done!  The starter on my vintage Suburban had been acting up,. I dared not cut it off because it might not start again until the motor had time to cool.  What would I do if Knighthawk’s painkiller wore off before I got there?

Surprisingly, a sudden calm settled over me.  I quickly placed my order and paid the clerk.  Scratching Knighthawk behind the ears, I told him I loved him and got back under the wheel.  When I turned the key, the car started the first time.  “Hallelujah! Thank you Jesus!”

As the highway stretched before green fields and me swept by, my mind went back to the day when Knighthawk was foaled at our barn.  I had been ashamed of him because he was so small and his conformation was questionable.  He’d never be a show horse.  We waited until he was almost three years old before we broke him to saddle.  Because I was so busy with my mother who was ill, I sent him to another trainer to break him to harness so I could sell him. Actually I just wanted to get rid of him.
The trainer surprised me with a call one day and said, “Lady, you’ve got yourself a show horse.”  Not ready to believe him, I went to his stable to watch a workout.  I was amazed that my runt of a horse could handle himself in such a grand fashion pulling that cart.  His gaits were so powerful he even looked bigger.  My trainer insisted that I drive him so I climbed into the cart and took the reins.  I cannot remember a greater thrill than when he hit his stride at the road trot.  I had seen and trained some real nice Morgans, and I recognized true talent when I saw it. “Yes,” I said, “we’ve got ourselves a real show horse!”

It was just turning dark when we arrived at the vet school.  Attendants quickly took my beloved horse into the examination area and began a lengthy evaluation.  All the while they were running tests and probing him, I was remembering how Knighthawk’s show career surprised everyone who knew us.  He won second place in Three Year-old Junior Pleasure Driving in his first regional Morgan show that year against trainers from all over the country.  He even beat his own trainer who was obligated to show another horse and talked me into showing him myself.

After that show, I had taken him home and continued his training myself.  He and I bonded into a formidable team, and he became a valued member of our show string.  There was no stopping this little 14.3 hand Lippitt-bred Morgan horse with the great big heart and a big lick at the trot, plus a gentle sweet spirit that carried over into everything we did..  He could draw himself up like a proud rooster and strut.  His whole attitude said to the judges, “Look at me.”  By the time he was nine years old he had won many first places and other awards in regional and local Georgia shows all over.  He beat a lot of horses that had more prestigious bloodlines, owned by people who could afford the finest trainers.
In 1985 Good Knighthawk was declared Georgia Morgan High Point Horse of the Year, excelling in both English Pleasure and Pleasure Driving divisions.  I retired him from the show ring.  He went on to make me proud once again in Carriage Combined Driving Eventing for three more years, most often winning the cones course.  Finally he was allowed to settle down to become a favorite family pleasure horse, gentle enough to lead the grandchildren’s pony on their first trailrides or to do “pony rides” at church functions…
My melancholy was broken when the Chief of Surgery came over to me and explained that it looked like Knighthawk had a blockage in an area that was operable.  He could give him only a 50/50 chance of recovery, but he was willing to try because I got him there in time.  Then he popped the dreaded question, “Is surgery an option?”  In layman’s terms, this translates to “do you have the money, Dear?” I knew he was thinking that NOBODY spent that kind of money on a 17 year-old gelding.  He didn’t know that I had already done that once before, in that same hospital.

I hesitated as I silently asked the Lord to tell me what to do, wondering if people watching for my response had any idea what was really happening.  The circulating fans blowing inside the huge building had made me slightly chilly because I was damp with perspiration.  Suddenly, I felt a pink triangle of warmth envelope my whole body, almost like an embrace from someone who loves you.  A quiet voice inside me distinctly said,  “Fix your horse, Honey.”

Knighthawk surprised everyone with his quick recovery, that is, everyone except me.  I had direct “orders from Headquarters” to go ahead with the surgery.  God even supplied the money.  I was a real estate salesman and a sale had fallen through a month before.  Four days after the surgery, the loan broker called me to tell me they had worked it out.  We would be having a closing after all.  After tithe and tax, my commission was exactly the amount needed.

And, you know what else happened?  When I drove back to Athens to see my horse the day after surgery, I stopped at a shopping center to buy a card.  You guessed it, the starter failed!  It took an hour to cool

Five days later, as my sweet horse stepped up into the horse trailer again, I thanked the Lord for our series of miracles that led us to this moment.  Stroking Knighthawk’s neck and kissing him on his velvety nose I said, “Little Buddy, you just won the big one!  Let’s go home.”

Gloria Colter