I debated whether or not to post this one….

Three years. Seems like a long time, but for me I can remember that day as if it was yesterday. As a pet owner you never think about the end, until it smacks you in the face like a freight train. And when that time comes, you are never prepared to make that decision. It may be a situation where you know the time is coming, so you have an idea, but in reality you really can’t prepare yourself for it.

After you make a decision like that you always have the what ifs.

What if….

What if the timing wasn’t right?

What if I did more testing?

What if I got a second opinion?

What if I tried different medication?

What if he/she wasn’t ready?

What if I am pushing it too soon?

What if I don’t do it now, will he/she suffer later?

What if…

To this day I still ask myself those questions. What if I did more testing to see what really was going on with his body? If I did more testing, is it possible to treat it? What if I got a second opinion and they said it was something curable? What if he lived for another five years?

I still miss that damn horse. All the vet bills, failed ribbons, disastrous patterns, but many memories. Bringing up stories still hurt.

Like I said, I still remember that day clear as crystal. I woke up early the morning of. A Thursday. I wanted to spend time with him before the time came. I spent a good couple of hours grooming him, cleaning his feet out, braiding his main and tail. Since it was his last day, I wanted it to be special. I let him graze in the tall grass. My friend, Cheryl showed up and suggested to put some yellow flowers in his mane. I laughed and said, “At least he will be pretty when he dies.” My coach, Patti, came out to take photos of us together.

My support group. Cheryl. Patti. My ex promised when the time came even after we broke up, he would be there. Just another broken promise.

I could see Brett in the background digging a spot next to the other good ole boys, Fritz and Joker. I tried not to stare or else I feared I would start balling. Thank God Magic was mostly blind. He wouldn’t understand.

Heather, DVM, showed up with an assistant. I could feel my gut tensing up and sob form in my throat. I had Cheryl run up to the barn to get Magic’s purple stable blanket, he would be buried with it.

“Do you want his tail?” asked Heather.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. The assistant got some scissors and some tape from the back.

“I can’t do it,” said Patti.

I gave her Magic’s lead rope and took the scissors. I cut as close to the tail bone as I could. I held it up and said trying to hide a sob, “He finally looks like his Appy breed.”

Everyone stifled a laugh. “Are you ready?”

Tears welled up in my eyes, “I guess.”

We walked over to the pasture that Brett was digging the hole. “One last ride?” asked Cheryl.

I nodded, again not trusting my voice. I got a leg up and Magic and I made a round around the pasture. It will never be the same.

I didn’t want to bring him to the group. I wanted to say forget it. I don’t want to do it.

I’m not doing this for me, obviously. I am doing this for the good of him. His body is giving up-I was out of options.

Heather rambled about how their office euthanizes. I didn’t pay much attention. I remember they gave him a sedative to help him relax. They injected him. A minute later, nothing. Magic was fighting it. The assistant ran back to the truck to get another dose. A couple of minuter and two doses later, he went down. I balled. I took my time saying my goodbye. They waited until I left before burying him. I’m glad.


Magic Collage1

SIDE NOTE: This is a very hard topic. Especially to write about. I haven’t told many about it, because I don’t want them to feel the pain I went through. But as a pet owner, they need to know the hurt.