Snowballing

"A good man once said, death smiles upon us all... all we can do is smile back."


News on the Gogo front isn't good. This entire ordeal is unfortunately mid-snowball, and I am completely helpless against whatever happens to her between now and the end of it all. I arrived at the barn on Friday afternoon after work, and was alarmed to find that the swelling around the medial branch of her suspensory on the right hind was disturbingly larger than it had been (and it had been disturbingly large before), and that there was a new and noticeable sink to her step whenever she weighted the leg. The entire suspensory apparatus is failing, but I didn't think it was all going to happen this fast. I thought we would have a quiet couple of weeks left to enjoy the weather and our last bit of time together, but we may not have the luxury of that little bit of time any longer. The fetlock certainly isn't on the ground or anything, this is just the beginnings of it... but the fact that it is already happening is alarming and upsetting. I'm not ready yet. I'll never be ready.

However, that being said, it makes me feel reassured in my decision. There is no other way that this can be. There is no second guessing when you can see changes happening right before your eyes. All the hesitation and uncertainly disappears when right in front of you is a horse in noticeable pain. I have a single-minded determination to make this last little bit of time as comfortable and happy as possible, and then to give her the much-deserved relief and peace that she needs. It's the only way it can be, and she needs me to have a clear head about it.

I put her back out with her little herd of friends after much deliberation, but I think it will make her happiest. In the alleyway drylot, she had a bad habit of randomly spinning and galloping, not to mention the fact that she was alone and away from her friends. She is very happy to have her herd back, but the barn owner says that she is no longer bullying and chasing them at mealtimes. To me that says that she is feeling very poorly... she never misses an opportunity to be the boss. I just pray that she doesn't do anything silly in this painful interim before we set a final date. If she breaks down out there we will never be able to get her back to the barn. I could stall her but I am dead set against that unless I feel like it is the only way to keep her from complete collapse until the vet arrives. We're not at that point yet where I feel like I will have to do it, and I hope we don't ever get to that point. I want her to be able to walk with dignity to her end after a beautiful and peaceful final day, whenever it may be.


Her coat is starting to get darker in preparation for growing a winter coat. She never starts to get fuzzy until around November... it's sad to think things like that she'll never grow a winter coat again, and that she won't be here for Christmas.

She looked tired today. I'm tired too. I'm thankful that my choice is clear, but it doesn't ease the pain.