Ah, I’m so sad. Even someone who knows, knows that there is more out there after death struggles with the decision to put an animal down.
I rescued Althea from a kill pen in Louisiana, along with 2 other mares and I helped a bit with several other horses, mules and foals. The nightmare I’ve entered since then has been harrowing.
I wrote about her voyage from draft horse to kill-pen horse and then to me, and it’s been a long road in just about a month. The vet has come out at least a dozen times. We had her scoped at the vet hospital. She has had to be “cleaned out” of manure at least weekly. In spite of VERY expensive drugs, she is still urinating on her legs. She has no tone in her urethra and her anus and was cleaned out Monday and we had to bring the vet in to do it again today. It’s not fair to her. She had a good week – she was mostly comfortable, eating her hay and grain, but she just can’t pass manure, which I think is causing her to not be able to evacuate her urine, so she gets a horrible, terrible bladder infection. She still has urine dribbling out of her and burning her legs.
None of this is fair: it’s not fair that she gave many years to some Amish jerk who treated her as a machine and just turned her into an auction because of a health problem, rather than kill her humanely on his property. It’s not fair the she ended up on a kill lot. It’s not fair that the Stanley Brothers, owners of the kill lot, make over $200,000 a WEEK sending horses to Mexico to slaughter. It’s not fair that I paid them, and Renee Marie Paxton, to quarantine her and she came to me covered in sores from her urine and starved. None of this is fair. None of it. And this makes me rail at the Universe sometimes; makes me doubt my faith in the Spirits. Makes me feel completely powerless, because no matter how powerful my Spirits are, and I know they are enormously powerful, neither they, nor I, can really stop the suffering humans inflict on the world.
So tomorrow she crosses over. I’m going to sing to her, rub her, tell her I love her and will never, ever forget the huge heart she has to have survived all that she survived and remain a kind animal. Tell her I’ll see her, along with all of my other rescue dogs and the puppies who died in my care, from my first van full to my last, and to wait for me in the Land of the Dead. That I will be there shortly when measured by the Infinite. And that we will all meet again, healthy and vibrant, to plan when and where we will cycle again, together, and try to make this world a little better.