Awaking before dawn again, floating in and out of sleep, rethinking last Thursday. We knew when we bought a twenty one year old stallion that we would not have him forever but what a thrill to have shared a part of his life, to have ever had the adventure of owning a stallion of his caliber and be able to give him a retirement he deserved after a long career - - stud to his fine mares, nothing more expected. How marvelously prepotent he was - marking all his babies with beautiful heads, laid-back shoulders and straight legs! Mouse was a fortunate horse - he had been loved, trained, and cared for by each of his three owners over his lifetime and now he was THE king - master of his own universe - the only stallion in our barn! He was happiest when all his mares were in the barn, estatic if there were ''extras" - they would be his outside mares. We just know he could count!

He had had a successful show career, twice Grand Champion at the LCS as well as Justin Morgan Standard winner. His first year here in 1997 at twenty two, he would go Res. Gr. Champion stallion under Art Perry after winning the Aged Stallion class at the CRLS. More than an in-hand horse, he had multiple championship in road hack, english pleasure and harness. The next sentence out of anyone's mouth after finding out that we had acquired the Mouse was "He sure can trot!" And everyone knew him, Morgan people that couldn't name a handful of other lippitts knew the Mouse, even the year we were at the Grand Nationals.

His last day started normal enough - the farrier was coming. He was playing with his hay and talked to the girls as they had their feet done. He had a light sweat but felt a little clammy - perhaps a little gas, we thought so we turned him out for a little run as we finished the girls. He drank some water, ate a little hay but seemed to be sweating more - inappropiate for his activity. Not right - just not right.

Mouse had had a mild impaction the day we were leaving for the convention in MI - he was never a big water drinker but we left him at the vets even after he had started to pass stool. Better safe than sorry. Too precious he was to take a chance on something happening at home. And he loved going to the vets - everyone made such a fuss over him; he was a favorite and there were so many new mares to see. A gentle stallion, I trailered him alone for several collections for frozen and fresh cooled over the last two years. I just had to pull the trailer up, open the door and say "Come on, Mouse, let's go to the vet'' and in he flew. Our joke at the vets was "Does he have any vices?" Our response "Yes, he's a bit of a womanizer". He considered it a dirty trick on our part when he ended up on two occassions at the show grounds - no action there!

By the time we arrived, he was in a full sweat with an elevated pulse rate but still no signs of abdominal distress. A rectal revealed only a little dryish stool and no distention but they oiled him and started IV s for fluid replacement. He looked for water and tiny pieces of hay, he was at the vets, we left feeling warm and fuzzy - everything was going to be okay. They would call when he started passing stool.

The next call was distressing, A positive abdomenal tap, the bowel was getting distended, he was getting reflux from his stomach and they felt a lipoma at the pelvic outlet. He's loaded with pain medication but still uncomfortable. Would we consider surgery? Odds 50-50, long recovery and expense, no breeding for the year. My first impulse was ''No, he's twenty-four, a healthy twenty four - what else can we do?" Raud and Becky had gone to the museum for an exhibit (after all, things were going to be fine, weren't they?) so I dashed over to the clinic to see him for myself - if there was to be surgery, time was of the essence.

One look and my heart sank, "prep him, let's go for it", how could we not try? He was so stoic, my braveheart, no whimpering or aggression, patiently waiting for the relief his friends would surely give him. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, Mouse but I can't not do anything. Doug Langer, the surgeon, felt it was the right choice - ''He's such a cool horse". Dr Austin would assist. Andy Schmidt, who had done the reproductive work for Koehler stables had asked last year if we would let him represent the old type Lippitt Morgan for their fall open house in '99. Wisconsin Equine is a first class operation, if he had a chance, he couldn't have been at a finer fascility. And so it was a ''go''.

At this point, he came out of his stall with ears up and pulled himself up to his full height like he was going off to a new adventure with his bouncey little trot. One last victory pass. Whatever was coming, he would take it.....like a MOUSE. So docile and trusting, we wouldn't let him down. I was so proud of him and so hopeful I had made the right decision.

I watched as they put him to sleep but wasn't allowed to see the procedure due to the clinic's insurance. Someone would come out and talk to me when they found something. The minutes passed slowly, an hour, then more. A scrub nurse came out "Tell me something, please". "Nothing bad so far ,they are just finishing the bowel". Relief. Ten minutes of relief. And then the bombshell.

Mouse has a tumor. The bowel was clean, no lipoma had twisted. But a mass sat on top the kidney. A large pheochromocytoma - a beniegn tumor with malignant surge had put him into adrenal crisis pouring out adrenaline into his system. His blood preasure which normally would have fallen with the surgical assault, was over 200, pulse 92 as they would approach the mass. It had caused the sweating, was paralyzing the bowel, adrenaline telling the body to fight or flee. Were we to wake him, it still might not start the bowel's normal action, irritractable pain, he might stroke out recovering, only to know this would happen again and again as the tumor grew. February's mild colic was only a warning. And so the choice that really wasn't a choice, as you sign the papers to euthanize. How many of us have been there?

I was allowed to see him again to say "good-bye" but only the cool flesh remained, his warm essence had flown. Raud couldn't, he was devasated, better to remember him in life. The mares are the heart of our breeding program but he was the pulse that no longer beat. In leaving, they take a part of us with them so they never travel alone.

He left a chestnut son, Woodbury Mouse from Hi-Sno Athena Twlite, who now belongs to the Billings of Iowa, and a bay daughter, Hannah- Laura from Edgewood Gabriellyn for the Wagners of Nebraska. He left us a son, Osiris Mouse from Rohan Ashlyn. All will carry our prefix and his lineage. More over ,11 sons and 11 daughters, he would leave for "get" with two more expected at the Schaumbergs this spring. (Those two Edgewood mares each foaled a chestnut colt.)

The barn is so empty without him. So silient. It would seem they all know, sharing some primative, secretive knowlegde. He's gone. The Mouse is gone.

I want to thank everyone who came forward with pictures, stories, phone calls and sincere condolences. Mouse had "owners" over his life time but, in truth, he belonged to himself as the great ones always do. You were a part of his life when he delighted you whether he won or not, when he captured your imagination of what a Morgan stallion might be. No one ever doubted his breed or gender. His passing was a loss to all. Again, a special thank you to those of you who cared, and to the Brassards who shared him with us. To Clara Hendin who bred him. Even with the grief we feel now, how gladly we would do it all over again, he was a joy, a once in a lifetime horse. We loved you, Mouse, from the moment you stepped off the trailer, and we know all your years were happy ones. Trot on, Big Guy!

Raud and Mary Wilke, Eastbrook Farms

As a postscript, as you read Mouse's story, think about freezing semen on stallions, especially our 'old timers' if they are candidates. We collected the first year he was here. There isn't always another day; sometimes, like Mouse, only a few hours.

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