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Tonight I have to share news that is both difficult to process and difficult to put into words: we had to say goodbye to Rocky today.

Tonight I have to share news that is both difficult to process and difficult to put into words: we had to say goodbye to Rocky today.
 
Rocky came to us about a month ago, following a severe injury that originally occurred last August. After months of treatment and careful management, his previous family and veterinary team made the difficult decision to give him a chance through a significant and complex surgery in early January, which included a penile amputation and gelding. By the time he arrived here, he had already come so far. It was clear he had been deeply loved and that many people had invested in his care and his future. One of the people involved in his care shared that during treatment, Rocky would rest his big head gently on her shoulder while he was sedated—a quiet, trusting moment that speaks to just how kind he was.
 
As we got to know him, we were struck by how kind and willing he was. He settled into the herd with ease, formed quiet connections, and showed us a thoughtful, gentle nature. We had even started to look ahead and see what his future could hold. Rocky had been added as a potential horse for the Dakota Showdown Horse Trainer Challenge, giving him the opportunity to spend the summer learning, growing, and preparing for a home of his own. We truly believed he would have been a strong and popular contender.
 
Over the past couple of weeks, we had started to notice a few small changes that we were keeping an eye on—things that, in hindsight, may have been early signs of something more. He had begun to dribble urine more frequently, and we had quietly questioned how much of what we were seeing was part of his normal recovery versus something more. He was also unusually mellow, though we did not yet know whether that was simply his personality or a subtle sign that something more was going on.
 
With the type of surgery Rocky had undergone, there were always potential risks and long-term complications. Without a crystal ball, we can only make the best decisions we can with the information in front of us at the time. When outcomes like this happen, it can shake your confidence and leave you questioning every detail, but hindsight is not a gift we are given in the moment.
 
What we do know is that Rocky was cared for, he was safe, and he was surrounded by a herd that accepted him. He was given the chance to move forward into a new chapter, even if that chapter was far shorter than any of us hoped.
 
To the family who raised him and loved him for so many years, and to those who were part of his care along the way—please know that he mattered here, too. He made an impression in the short time we had him, and we were genuinely excited for his future.
 
We often picture the horses we lose in greener pastures, free and whole again. Rocky is always welcome in our sky herd, but we have a feeling he didn’t wait long. We imagine he’s found his way back to the horses he spent his life with, and that kind of reunion is something we can be at peace with.
 
Some horses stay for years. Some only for a moment. All of them matter.