Dear Horse Owner
| September 23, 2014 | Posted by Melinda under Mel's Life, Most Popular |
Dear Horse Owner.
You don’t know me and I don’t know you. In fact, I’m not even suppose to be writing this – it’s the school’s policy that I carry away only pictures in my mind and words in my thoughts.
In fact, I’m writing this well after the event and have muddled the details so that in the end it’s unrecognizable to us both. But I need to tell you how he touched me.
Everyone commented how cute your horse was. In contrast to the old mare with serious colic and the a cow with horrible pneumonia on either side, he was beautiful inside and out.
Which I’m sure only made your decision even harder. Because your horse didn’t have some black and white disease or condition that forced your hand.
Just a nebulous quality of life and perhaps the safety of him and handlers.
When it was time for me to do a GI tract evaluation, I was expecting a mix of greenish grass and hay like usual. Instead I found a stomach stuffed to the brim with bran and carrots. They looked like they went through a food processor.
It may surprise you to learn that normally pathology is a happy place with music playing in the background. We are always respectful, but rarely sentimental.
But everyone who walked by and saw, paused. Because we knew your horse’s stomach was full of love.
You fed him one last meal, and hoping to finally find some answers you sent him here.
We didn’t get answers today so we have to wait for the microscope stuff to go through. My evening will be spent describing your horse in great detail and researching his condition to gain clues on where we should look for our answers microscopically.
Love,
Your student-doctor
<3
I waited a long time before publishing this. But in the end, weeks/months later I still really felt like I needed to say it, so I did.
This made me choke up a little :'(
It’s the best we can do for them at the end, right? Fill them with love as they filled our lives. Thank you for the lovely tribute. This is why so many vets write great heart-warming and heart-wrenching stories.
Mel, this meant a lot to me. When i recently sent Katie
off, she had a belly full of all the carrots and peaches
she’d been denied the past 8+ years due to her IR. I’d
kind of hoped to put her into an equine version of diabetic coma. She was still happily chewing when she went down.
Missing my sweet girl…
I was surprised how much it touched me – maybe because so often people don’t get a chance to say that last goodbye with the horse feeling good enough to eat a bucket full of treats? If it sent a powerful message to me, as the person doing the necropsy, I can only think that it sends a message to the horse as well.
<3
Tearing up at your post and these comments. I sure hope the loving owner got answers they were looking for.