Leah Schwartz, Class of 2027, submitted a personal narrative essay to the Scholastic Writing Competition about her horse Groot and the worst day of her life. The essay won an honorable mention award.

‘Monday, August 21st, 2023, was the worst day of my life. My passion is horseback riding. I have ridden horses for nine years and am fascinated with the sport and all of its unique challenges. I devote all my free time and weekends to improving as a rider. Last October I was fortunate enough to be able to purchase a wonderful horse named Groot, he was everything I wanted in a horse and more. We improved rapidly together, had a wonderful summer of competing, and grew together both as a pair and individually. Then, towards the end of summer, before the beginning of the school year, tragedy struck.

I had just returned from a birthday hiking trip with my best friends when we received a text from our trainer, Allie. She reported that Groot was acting funny, and she was heading out to the farm to check on him. While I was exhausted, I offered to go to the farm immediately to check on him and do anything I could for him. Allie assured me that she could manage it and would call us if we were needed at the farm.

Half an hour later, Allie again texted, saying, “Groot is back to acting normally. I gave him Banamine and a bath, and he seemed much happier. He is happy and eating. I am going home and will check on him in the morning.”

While that text was meant to reassure me, I had a feeling in my stomach that we should call the vet. I ignored that feeling because of the reassurance I got from both my mother and my trainer. Ignoring my gut feeling led to tragedy.

The next day, I woke up to a call from Allie saying, “Groot is acting weird again. I called the vet, but I recommend that you come out to the farm right away to hear what he has to say.”

My mother and I drove out to the farm very quickly, full of worry for Groot. We arrived at the same time as the vet and were relieved to see that it was a vet we knew well. The vet examined Groot and did not know what was wrong, but something was very clearly wrong, so he recommended we trailer Groot down to Lexington for surgery. We immediately hooked up the trailer and got on the road. On the trip, I could think how much I regretted ignoring my gut feelings and how worried I was for Groot.

When we got to Hagyard Equine Medical Institute in Lexington and unloaded Groot from the trailer, we could immediately tell his condition was deteriorating. He was dripping sweat, shaking, and having muscle spasms. These are all very bad signs for horses. They brought him into the hospital and started their exam.

“I don’t know exactly what is wrong, but he needs surgery right away,” said the internal medicine doctor.

After they ran pre-surgery labs, we got even worse news. His white cell count was below 500, which meant he was fighting an internal infection and was septic. On the walk to the OR, I tried to reassure Groot that everything was going to be okay and that he was going to make it out alive.

When Groot was taken to get prepped for the surgery, we were told we could watch. I gladly took the opportunity. My mother and I were so nervous, but we knew that we brought him to the best available care.

When the surgery started, the surgeon opened Groot and immediately knew it was hopeless. Stomach matter fell out of Groot’s chest cavity, meaning he had a hole somewhere in his stomach. Horses do not recover from stomach perforations even if they are fixed and put on

antibiotics. The surgeon looked around for the hole and eventually found it. When he told us he could not fix him my world stopped.

How could my best friend, my partner, my favorite thing in the entire world be gone? Just like that. Why? Why me? Why now? How am I supposed to just go on with my life while the thing that meant the most to me is gone?

After they closed him, I said goodbye. We were not able to wake him up and say goodbye because that would be cruel to put him in more pain than he was already in. I hugged him and told him that I was so sorry and that I loved him.

The way home was a blur. I blame myself for his passing. In my age category, I finished first nationally in horse knowledge competitions for three years in a row, yet I could not even save my horse. I feel like a failure as an owner, partner, and best friend. I failed my best friend when he needed me most. I will forever feel responsible for his passing even if logically the blame should not fall on a fourteen-year-old girl. I cannot blame any of those who tried to help us, so I blame myself for not knowing more, being smarter, and not trusting my gut. Both my parents have reassured me that it is not my fault, but I know he was my responsibility and my best friend. I failed him.

That day was the worst of my life. I learned a lot that day. The biggest lesson I took away from that day was always trusting my gut. If something ever feels wrong again, I am going to go with what my gut says as opposed to what others say.’