Beating a dead horse. (Or, pardon me while I depress the hell out of both you and myself.)
For those of you who don't know, I used to ride horses for many years. I started when I was very young, and stopped around the time I went off to college. During that time, I owned two horses (consecutively, not concurrently). I didn't bond at all with the first horse, but the second horse, Razz, and I really hit it off.
A little over a year into the time I owned her, she developed very bad arthritis in one of her back legs. I was still able to ride her a bit, very lightly, but she was in constant pain, and lived on a steady diet of painkillers. After about another year and a half of this, my 15-year-old self had to come to the hard decision to have her put down. My parents tried to take as many of the arrangements as possible out of my hands, as the situation was heartbreaking enough. Still, euthanizing a horse isn't like putting down a dog. You can't just dig a hole with a shovel; you have to rent a back-hoe and someone to operate it. And although my father is a vet, he hadn't worked with large animals in decades, so he couldn't be the one to do the deed.
About a week before this was set to happen, the people I had bought her from in the first place offered to take her back and keep her as a pet. This is essentially what I'd been doing, at this point, but at great monthly expense. She wasn't suffering enough yet that the euthanasia was entirely necessary yet, but when you're 15, paying to keep a horse is the financial equivalent of renting a downtown apartment. In some ways, I was just making the decision in order to unburden myself.
On the same day she was supposed to be put down, the former owner came to pick her up and trailer her back off to their place. I wasn't around for that bit, but I did go earlier in the day to say goodbye. I'd been so used to steeling myself against all of this that, by then, I really wasn't feeling anything anymore.
I never saw my horse again after that. I was told I was welcome to come visit her sometime. I wasn't ready to do that until about a year later. When I asked about seeing her, I found out she'd been put to sleep about two months earlier. She'd gotten to the point where she had lain down and couldn't get up anymore. I was completely devastated.
I can look back on all of this and analyze it to death, see all the different reasons I had to feel guilty. But I think it's obvious enough for you to draw your own conclusions.
Since all of this happened, now more than ten years ago, I've had recurring dreams where I learn that she's been around all this time after all, but I've left her alone, and she's been terribly neglected. Something always happens that stops me from making the situation right somehow. And I realize I can never get back the time I could have had with her.
In other dreams, with other horses, I get set to go riding, but something always stops me. Sometimes I just wake up too soon, but other times it's more complicated. Occasionally I do get to go riding, but those dreams are very rare, and it's never with my old horse.
On CSI Miami last week, Delco kept seeing Speedle everywhere, and found out someone was using his credit card. It had him hoping he wasn't really dead, but in the end, it was one of his coworkers committing fraud. I hate that show, but my dream last night made me think of that episode. In the dream, I was told my horse was still alive, but by now very old. I was taken to where they were keeping her. She had gone very grey, and was lying down on the floor in her stall, very sick. After much personal distress, I was finally told that this wasn't really her, that she really was dead. They had just told me she was still alive to make me feel better.
I wonder if that's the end of these awful dreams. I think this is the first time in them it's been acknowledged that she's dead. I suppose I'll have to see what happens.
A little over a year into the time I owned her, she developed very bad arthritis in one of her back legs. I was still able to ride her a bit, very lightly, but she was in constant pain, and lived on a steady diet of painkillers. After about another year and a half of this, my 15-year-old self had to come to the hard decision to have her put down. My parents tried to take as many of the arrangements as possible out of my hands, as the situation was heartbreaking enough. Still, euthanizing a horse isn't like putting down a dog. You can't just dig a hole with a shovel; you have to rent a back-hoe and someone to operate it. And although my father is a vet, he hadn't worked with large animals in decades, so he couldn't be the one to do the deed.
About a week before this was set to happen, the people I had bought her from in the first place offered to take her back and keep her as a pet. This is essentially what I'd been doing, at this point, but at great monthly expense. She wasn't suffering enough yet that the euthanasia was entirely necessary yet, but when you're 15, paying to keep a horse is the financial equivalent of renting a downtown apartment. In some ways, I was just making the decision in order to unburden myself.
On the same day she was supposed to be put down, the former owner came to pick her up and trailer her back off to their place. I wasn't around for that bit, but I did go earlier in the day to say goodbye. I'd been so used to steeling myself against all of this that, by then, I really wasn't feeling anything anymore.
I never saw my horse again after that. I was told I was welcome to come visit her sometime. I wasn't ready to do that until about a year later. When I asked about seeing her, I found out she'd been put to sleep about two months earlier. She'd gotten to the point where she had lain down and couldn't get up anymore. I was completely devastated.
I can look back on all of this and analyze it to death, see all the different reasons I had to feel guilty. But I think it's obvious enough for you to draw your own conclusions.
Since all of this happened, now more than ten years ago, I've had recurring dreams where I learn that she's been around all this time after all, but I've left her alone, and she's been terribly neglected. Something always happens that stops me from making the situation right somehow. And I realize I can never get back the time I could have had with her.
In other dreams, with other horses, I get set to go riding, but something always stops me. Sometimes I just wake up too soon, but other times it's more complicated. Occasionally I do get to go riding, but those dreams are very rare, and it's never with my old horse.
On CSI Miami last week, Delco kept seeing Speedle everywhere, and found out someone was using his credit card. It had him hoping he wasn't really dead, but in the end, it was one of his coworkers committing fraud. I hate that show, but my dream last night made me think of that episode. In the dream, I was told my horse was still alive, but by now very old. I was taken to where they were keeping her. She had gone very grey, and was lying down on the floor in her stall, very sick. After much personal distress, I was finally told that this wasn't really her, that she really was dead. They had just told me she was still alive to make me feel better.
I wonder if that's the end of these awful dreams. I think this is the first time in them it's been acknowledged that she's dead. I suppose I'll have to see what happens.