'He was like my family,' cop says of fallen police horse
By Erin Meyer
Tribune reporter
7:35 PM CDT, August 29, 2011
The horse reared and struggled as if fighting an invisible assailant.
Chicago Police Officer Paul Casasanto, on mounted patrol at North Avenue beach, had slid off the horse as it began to struggle inexplicably.
“Mik just went down,” Casasanto said in to a police radio while holding tightly to the horse’s reins.
Casasanto tried to calm his horse while people in bathing suits and jogging clothes began closing in.
“Stay back,” he warned, as the animal continued to kick its powerful back legs.
After several weakening attempts to stand, the horse folded to the ground and rolled onto its side.
When the horse laid its head on the pavement in defeat, Casasanto placed one hand over its half-open eye as the animal took a last labored breath.
“He’s gone,” said Casasanto, as onlookers began herding children back toward the water.
Stricken by some kind of seizure, the Chicago police horse died quickly at about 2 p.m., Monday in front of a crowd of beachgoers, including a Tribune reporter, on a cloudless afternoon.
“Mommy, what’s wrong with the horse?” a little blond boy asked, tugging on his mother’s beach bag.
The 18-year-old horse was named Mikey C. to honor Chicago Police Officer Michael Ceriale, who was fatally shot while conducting undercover drug surveillance in 1998.
Casasanto removed his saddle and bridle and helped cover the dead horse with a plastic tarp.
“When you spend eight hours a day, five days a week together…,” Casasanto said, pausing. “He was like my family. They bring you nothing but joy.”
Casasanto was stunned by the horse’s sudden attack and could not explain it.
“At this point, there’s been no determination as to what the cause of death was,” said Chicago News Affairs Officer Darryl Baety.
An imposing 16-1 hands, sources at the scene said Mikey C. was a retired race horse, purchased by the city in 2003.
The animal was paired with Casasanto by the Chicago Police Mounted Unit, and has been used to patrol Chicago’s beaches and parks as well as special events.
By nightfall, workers had lifted the horse’s heavy body with a front-end loader and removed it from the crowded walkway.
Before that, Casasanto cut off the end of the horse’s tail and pulled off one of the heavy metal horseshoes nailed to its hoof. He wanted to keep these things to remember Mikey C.
“I’m trying to hold it together,” he said, hiding his eyes behind dark glasses. “I know I am going to break down later.”
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Copyright © 2011, Chicago Tribune
