From the moment that I owned Denali I pictured her living out her days in field behind our future house. I imagined finding her under a tree on a warm spring morning, having slipped away in the night. I pictured myself nearing 50 and that she would have had a long, long life and that I would accept it.
Now I'm terrified that she won't make it until Christmas.
I thought long and hard about writing about how I feel. I can't put into works verbally, I keep breaking down in hysterics.
Denali got her feet done today by the new trimmer. Denali was adorable and was trying to groom her, and was stretching herself out. After the trim I put some standing wraps on her hind legs because she had stocked up overnight, and went to run some errands.
I came back and decided to work her a little to try and work out some of the swelling.
Denali fell, several, several times. It was the most heartbreaking thing ever. My trainer thought it was because her feet were sore, and she was stepping on rocks and couldn't compensate due to lack of muscles.
I don't think so. In my gut I know something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. I tried to call out both of our vets, but I couldn't get a hold of either of them. It's not an emergency, emergency so I didn't want someone else to come out.
My husband and I had the hard conversation tonight, I also had it with my trainer. For now I can hope that I can just retire her and that she will be safe and happy. If I can never ride her again, it would break my heart, but I would still have her big old neck to wrap my arms around. Not having it will kill me.
(At first I turned off comments, then I realized that 99.9% of you are normal, sane human beings who will not kick a girl when she is down....they are being moderated for the .1% of you who are not nice. I can't deal with mean people right now. )