Lacking a vet, Quebec family shoots dying horse in 'terrible beautiful act of last love'

WARNING: This story contains distressing details

The sky was blue, the swallows were singing and the sandhill cranes chortled as Katharine Fletcher took her last walk with her horse of 19 years on her property in Quyon, Que., on April 25.

Just that morning, before 6 a.m., the owner of Spiritwood Farm in Western Quebec had found Crescent, one of their two horses, lying on her side unable to get up.

"We ran out," said Fletcher.

It looked like a gastrointestinal problem that was causing Crescent intense pain.

"I phoned two vets who have not met me yet. Both were lovely but couldn't come," said Fletcher.

With her 31-year-old American Saddlebred mare "writhing in agony," and no trailer to transport her off the property, Fletcher says she made one last desperate call to a veterinarian.

"He didn't know me at all. I just said my mare is 31," said Fletcher. "He said we're looking at euthanasia … And he said 'I would be able to come to put her down, to euthanize her, but only in the evening sometime.'"

Fletcher says she managed to get Crescent walking for 10 minutes across the property, and wondered how they would manage her pain for the next 12-plus hours until the veterinarian arrived.

"I was able to talk to her," said Fletcher, standing in what used to be Crescent's stall.

"I just thanked her for her grace and being part of my life. And she stopped, as she always did, she always nuzzled me. And she was just like the perfect horse for me."

Moments later, Crescent collapsed, and Fletcher says she and her husband, Eric, were faced with an impossible decision.

"We just realized that she needed to be put down and we couldn't watch her writhing and teeth clenched," said Fletcher, sobbing. "So Eric came with the gun … Eric shot Crescent."

Fletcher says it was unimaginable.

Just a year ago, Dr. Andrea Kelly, an Ontario veterinarian, came to their hobby farm regularly to care for their horses.

In July, Kelly took her own life and left her family and community devastated.

Nine months later, her former clients have not forgotten her but they are trying to move forward and deal with difficult situations — some even travelling long distances for veterinary care while hoping another local veterinarian could soon step in.

Moments before Fletcher and her husband put Crescent down, the couple led her mate Trooper outside for a final goodbye.

"He nuzzled her, it broke my heart," said Fletcher, petting Trooper's black mane. "She couldn't respond," said Fletcher.

"It's that terrible beautiful act of last love that you can do when an animal is in such abject suffering."

Just a month before Kelly took her own life, Fletcher said the young vet was at their farm checking up on Crescent and Trooper for what would turn out to be the horses' last veterinary appointment.

Since then, no vet has been able to come by their property, says Fletcher, who recalls the anguish of Crescent's last moments.

"We were just sobbing and the Irish call it keening, where you just let everything go. And so there was some screaming," said Fletcher.

News spread quickly in the tightly knit rural community.

Fletcher's story left Siri Ingebrigtsen, her friend and a fellow horse-owner, devastated.

Having to put down any of her own horses has long been one of Ingebrigtsen's fears since losing Kelly, who routinely drove into Quebec to look after her 23 horses.

"We were lucky," said Ingebrigtsen. "We had vets that came here and then when Andrea passed away, then we had no one, like there was no one that could take us because we were such a big gang and they're overwhelmed already."

The co-owner of Avant-Garde Farm in Luskville, Que., Ingebrigtsen ended up getting her horses into a clinic in Prescott, Ont. — about a two-hour drive out of the province.

"[Prescott] was the closest we could find. And so everything we have done since the fall, since September until now, has been bringing them down for absolutely everything from one single needle to full care," said Ingebrigtsen.

This spring, Ingebrigtsen made a handful of visits using the four-horse trailer that she owns for her horse-transporting business across North America — often taking upward of seven hours from start to finish for each trip.

Ingebrigtsen says Kelly's willingness to drive to see clients was part of what made her so appreciated in the rural community.

Erin Kelly, Andrea's sister, says Andrea always put the clients first — even when it may have affected her — knowing there was a widespread veterinarian shortage.

"She ended up taking a lot of that on herself so that the clinic would survive and that those 600 clients would have care," said Erin, in an interview with CBC in August.

Experts say the life of a vet, with its particular stressors, is not an easy one and the profession has elevated rates of suicide; however, suicide is rarely caused by any single factor.

"In hindsight, you know if we had known how much she struggled, maybe we wouldn't have asked," said Ingebrigtsen.

"I don't know what else we could have done but there's always the 'what if' right? I mean, we miss her."

Looking into a field at the twin foals Kelly helped deliver before her suicide in July, Ingebrigtsen and her working student, Arianne Fournier, say they serve as a reminder of the "compassionate" veterinarian.

"Nothing's really changed," said Fournier. "She's still amazing in my eyes and we wish that she wouldn't have left so soon but it is what it is, and we'll always remember her."

Ingebrigtsen says over the winter the community has worked with two Ontario veterinarians who are trying to get their licence to practise in Quebec. She says they continue to process everything that has happened over the past year.

"That will be a huge part of our lives. And still part of me is angry at her for doing it, for not reaching out. And part of me is just terribly sad for what she missed out on and what her family has lost. So I think there's no healing that," said Ingebrigtsen.

"I think you just simply learn to live with it. And I just hope, really, that it's going to be not one more vet."

Former clients agree, Kelly's contribution to the community will never be forgotten.

While still mourning Kelly, Fletcher is coping with the fresh grief that came with putting Crescent down. She says she thinks Trooper senses her sadness and feels the loss too.

"The vets do say that they grieve as much as we do, and why wouldn't animals grieve? He's been with her for [10] years," said Fletcher, leading him out of the barn into the paddock.

Once outside, Trooper stands in the pouring rain and nickers softly.

"He's been calling her," said Fletcher.

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CBC journalist

Rachel Watts is a journalist with CBC News in Quebec City. Originally from Montreal, she enjoys covering stories in the province of Quebec. You can reach her at [email protected].