Tessie D

I stopped yesterday before I got to this part. 

I wish I’d hadn’t. 

I wish I’d written it down already.

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We got up early on Monday morning to get Prince ready since, before Daddy could take him to the sale, he’d needed his shots. 

Momma got the medicine from the refrigerator and drew up the shots while I pulled on my boots. We walked outside and across the backyard toward the corral on the edge of the 5-acre patch.

It was early — not even 7:00 a.m. — and the air smelled already of cow manure. The sun was just coming up, so it was still so chilly that the dew hadn’t evaporated off the grass yet. Yellow wildflowers were beginning to bud behind the fence line near the dried up creek bed.  

When we got to the barn, I walked into the tack room, grabbed the guide rope, and went back out to the corral. Usually I’d fasten the guide rope’s metal clasp to Prince’s leather harness, but we’d sold the leather harness when we sold the saddle. So, instead, I looped the end of the rope through the handle and slid the makeshift lead over his neck. I clasped the metal end to a hook in a fence post. I made sure the lead was loose enough that Prince wasn’t uncomfortable and had a just enough give to shake his head but not enough to buck. 

I pulled a few sugar cubes out of my pocket and offered them to him.

“Shhh, good boy. You’re a good boy.”

Prince nuzzled his nose into my palm. I scratched the firm spot behind his ear and watched as they twitched. He was happy. 

Momma pulled the capped syringes from her pocket and handed them to me. She stood off to the side and watched as I walked toward his hind quarters. Although Momma was a nurse, it was important to her that we knew how to take care of the animals since they was as much our responsibility as hers. I was facing away from his head, near his belly, staying clear to avoid a kick if he were to get spooked.  

As soon as I jabbed the needle into the muscle of Prince’s hind leg, he dropped to his knees — his quarters suddenly paralyzed. It all happened so quickly that I don’t know if I had even had a chance to push down on the needle’s plunger. His body began to contort as he fought to stay up on his front legs despite the weight of his hind legs pulling him down. The rope pulled and caught his neck. Prince raised his head trying to free himself. He was soundless with his head pointed toward the sky. His eyes kept darting from side to side.

I couldn’t figure out what had happened and then suddenly I understood. He was choking. I must have struck a nerve in Prince’s leg and it’d paralyzed him. When his hind quarters went down, the rope caught and tightened into a noose hanging him from the fence post as Momma and I watched in horror. It could only have been two or three seconds.

Momma screamed out in horror and ran to Prince, crouching down behind his hind legs. She threw her body weight against him, trying to push Prince forward while I grabbed his head and pulled. Both of us were trying to ease some of the tension in the rope around his neck. 

“Tess, a knife! Get a knife!” She yelled at me.

I looked furtively on the ground for a knife, a saw, a blade —- anything to cut the rope — but there was nothing but grass and mud. I ran into the tack room, shuffling the tools, nails, and bolts that laid scattered on the workbench. I saw a small folded pocket knife sitting on the corner and grabbed it and ran back to the corral. Prince’s mouth was open and his tongue was out. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head. I started sawing into the rope but the knife was dull and too small. I tried going faster. I pressed the knife into the rope until my wrist hurt. I was going break the rope from the knife’s pressure if not from its edge.

Everything had happened so fast. Then time seemed to slow down. Momma was crying and screaming.

“No, no! Oh my God, no!”

I could feel my heart racing and beads of cold sweat gathering at the small of my back. 

Eventually, the rope began to splinter under Prince’s weight and broke with a loud snap. His upper body and head fell onto the ground, his head positioned awkwardly, but he wasn’t moving. His heavy body laid on its side angled toward the metal post that he had been tied to. 

I threw myself onto him and began pushing into his ribcage. I was trying to coax him back to breathing. Momma came up to where I was standing and started doing the same thing, that somehow we could both, somehow, do something, anything that would bring him back. I begged and pleaded for Prince to wake up, come back, and to not to die. But, I could feel his body grow rigid. We were both sobbing when we finally stopped.

Minutes, hours, days went by from the moment that we stopped and finally we started walking back up to the house. Momma never looked at me. Neither of us said a word to each other.

When we got in the house, Momma went into her bedroom and closed the door. I was sure she was going in there to tell Daddy. I figured that I’d hear him yelling soon, so I went into Annie’s room since it was the furthest from their bedroom. I crawled under the covers and snuggled up against her. She was still sleeping.