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If you remember, I told you in my last journal
that something tragic happened and I wasn't all that motivated to draw and update my comic or do commissions. Well, I wasn't ready to talk about it then, but I am ready now.
A few of you knew that I had a horse. An amazing, stubborn, super-smart, goofball of a horse who I trained and rode since he was 3 years old. We literally grew up together and learned so much from each other. (Mostly patience and tolerance.) I always looked forward to spending time with him and enjoying his company, as he did with me. As busy as I am, I always tried to make time for him too.
Sadly, on September 27th this year, my horse passed away. He was suffering from colic for (as far as I'm aware) the first time in his life. And it was a very severe case. More severe than any of us thought or wanted to think. Imagine the worse stomach aches and craps you've ever had in your life and multiply that by 50 or 100 times. He was in so much pain. I don't know when it started, but he cried out for help at about 6am and I knew what was wrong. My family and I spent the better part of the morning and the day walking him and holding him so he wouldn't roll and make it worse. If a horse rolls while the intestine/stomach system is blocked, it can cause things to literally knot up and cause potentially irreparable damage. He was a mess. Covered in sweat and his usually bright eyes were dull and hurting. The vet came out and helped ease his pain, told us what she thought was wrong, and how to treat him after she left. After a few hours. He seemed to be doing better, but we didn't know it was only temporary.
I had to work later that day (I nearly didn't, but in hindsight, I'm glad I did because I think the stress of waiting and being with him would have made it so much worse; and my stress wasn't helping him at all), so I didn't know how he was doing except via email and phone calls. That night when I got home, a little past midnight, I went out to the pasture to see him and check on him. He nickered at me in the dark so I would know where he was. (I learned later that he hadn't nickered all day - a warm, beautiful, deep rumbling through the nose sound that he dis all the time.) I found him and knew he was in a lot of pain. I also knew there was nothing I or anyone else would be able to do for him. I had some hope that he might recover in the night, but he and I both knew what was really happening. He let me stay with him a while and then it seemed he wanted me to leave. And I did. But not before I told him he could go if he needed to go. But as I walked away, I told him, like I always did, that I would see him in the morning. He nickered to me once more as I left and went back to the house.
And that was the last time I saw him. He passed away in the night. I didn't see his body, though I knew where it was. I didn't go to where he was until he was buried and my family had a funeral for him. We all knew we did all we could, but there was some question for a time that maybe we hadn't... maybe there was something we could have done differently... But no. It wasn't our fault. No one's fault. It was a terrible way for my best friend to go, but it was his time, I guess. I thank God that I had closure. And that it wasn't worse. Because it could have been much, much worse. My whole family and I miss him terribly. He was a great companion and friend, a fantastic listener, and an amazing exercise/riding partner.
Rest in peace, my lad. You deserve it. Thank you for holding on long enough for me to say goodbye.
~ In loving memory of Romeo. April 12, 2000 - September 27, 2014. May you never want for green pastures and room to run. ~