and not just in terms of work. I can handle the work. It’s the heartbreak that gets me.
Last night my daughter’s horse sounded congested to me. I called the vet and we decided that he would come and see her the next day since he would be over this way.
At 6 am I went out to check on her. It wasn’t good. Her breathing was so labored it shook her whole body. Back in the house to call the vet….
At 7:30 the children went out to start farm chores. My oldest daughter came looking for me.
"John Boy has gone through the fence into the next pen and we can’t get him up…”
John Boy is my horse. We have grown older together and are close to the same age…which means that while I am approaching middle age, he is elderly.
I rushed outside, hoping against hope, but knowing the truth.
Back in the house for another call to the vet…
“It’s Rachel again. I need Dr. Todd to come quickly. John Boy is hurt and I need to put him down.”
We covered him in blankets to keep him comfortable. We doctored the ram who had been cut when the fence came down. We did what needed to be done.
When the vet arrived he explained what must have happened. It appeared that John Boy must have had a stroke. Saying goodbye was the right choice.
As the vet did what was necessary; what broke my heart, I considered going into the house. I considered not watching. But somehow, I felt I owed him this. I needed to witness his last moments and not run from the pain. I was in his debt and I paid him with tears.
Molly is doing better tonight but she is not out of the woods. We are praying that we find her breathing easier in the morning.
