~ thinking about the Rainbow Bridge

** CAUTION:  Debbie Downer alert **

If you're a pet lover, you've probably heard of the Rainbow Bridge. I'll attach a link to a good hanky-soaking site for it in just a bit. But for now... I'm not really sure how to say this... but I'm being forced to deal with the reality that I may need to make some very hard decisions in the near future about two of my horses. 
Simplest first: my old man, Roanie. 

He's 27, and he was the last horse my Dad rode before Dad passed away two years ago this month. He was also my husband's first horse and my kids' first horse. The kids have been riding him since they were itty bitty. His registered name is Doc's Mr. Wildfire and he was a hot-rod team roping horse back in the day. Dad got him after he was "retired," but to this day I don't think Roanie thinks he's retired. That horse has more work ethic than I've ever seen in a horse. He can be gimping around the pasture, all sore and stove up, but if you throw a saddle on him and climb aboard, all he wants to do is get to work. He's like "All right, Boss, let's go find some cows!" But the old man is getting older, and slower, and creakier, and more arthritic day by day.  

The place where I board him is wonderful, and he doesn't get locked in a stall... he gets to be out on the pasture as much as he wants (except in winter, when he can be on the perimeter tracks instead), or up at the barns under shelter. In other words, he gets to be a horse. He shuffles and creaks along, but it's getting harder for him, and Oregon winters are not kind to old horses, even when they're kept blanketed. I'm a country girl and I was raised to do right by the animals I have stewardship over. I can moon about it and cry or whatever, but it won't help Roanie one iota. I've consulted lots of vets and tried lots of things over the past few years to try to get him comfortable, with negligible results. I'm trying one last round of injectables (Legend and Adequan, if you feel inclined to Google). 

I'm not one of those people who keeps pets around interminably long, regardless of their pain and sickness, because of their own inability to deal with losing them. It SUCKS for us, to have to make those choices, but in the end, you have to do the right thing. My Mom and Dad both had experiences where they each waited too long on a sick dog, and both regretted it. (One dying of cancer literally died in the car on the way to the vet to be put to sleep.) But Roanie still seems like he has a lot of personality and life left. I'm trying to figure out where that line is. I have a friend with 500 acres who has graciously said he'd give me the number of his backhoe guy, and let me have Roanie buried out there. I'm still trying to come to terms with the "how" ... and of course, the "when."
Now part 2: my sweet Poco. 

He's only 14. WHAT?? Yes.  But he's been diagnosed with a recurring, painful, progressive, degenerative eye disease called Equine Recurrent Uveitis (ERU), also known as moonblindness. It's the leading cause of blindness in horses. Old age I can deal with, but THIS... this has been a severe, cruel blow. 

I love him so much. 

There's no way to convey that with words. There's no way to describe what he is to me. He was my first horse after 13 years of not being able to have horses after leaving home. We worked out a lot of baggage together, both his and mine. He's been my constant through thick and thin. When I was a girl and things got rough, I'd go out to the barn and wrap my arms around my horse's neck and just cry on his shoulder. It's harder to do that as an adult when you have tiny babies at home and your horse is 30 minutes away, but Poco was still that sweet-smelling, all-knowing, warm shoulder for me every day I went to the barn. There is something about a horse... that just pulls whatever is going on inside of you, to the surface-- and I know this sounds crazy, but there's something so therapeutic about just being with them. You can't bluff or lie or fake any kind of emotion. They know. And you know they know. And so it makes it harder to pretend about anything. That's what makes all of this even harder. I'm afraid that he'll see through me. I'm trying to put on the brave face, to be the strong leader, to find some way out of this for him, but deep inside I know the progression of this disease... and I don't know what to do about it. Maybe it will only affect one eye. I don't know. But the flare-ups are very painful and prolonged, and cause more and more damage each time. I'm searching the web like mad for all the information I can get, and having my vet 

call the vet school at OSU to see if there's any new info or any promising treatment. But deep inside... I know. I am not being pessimistic, I'm being realistic. Again, with the country girl thing... but this SUCKS. Right now he's confined to a dark stall, as he can't be out in direct sunlight, and is being treated with stuff in his eyes 4 times a day plus bute. He's started to have diarrhea, which means he's getting really stressed. He can see the occasional horse out a nearby window who is being worked in the round pen, or watch whatever horses are being worked in the arena, but he can't see his buddies who are down in the pasture. I've brought them up to say hi, and he's been so glad to see them. But... (sigh...) I have no idea what to do except what I'm already doing. His whole left eye is opaque, and I'm not sure how much damage has already been done. Three vets from two vet clinics have seen him, and none of them can really give me any hope. It also looks as though he's developing a cataract in that eye. I think I would still keep him even if he went blind in one eye, if we could minimize the pain during flare-ups (although there's no good long-term way to do that), but if he went blind in both eyes I would have him put down. 
It's crazy how easy it is to type those words, and at the same time how totally unfathomable it would be to actually do it. I just can't wrap my brain around it.

(moving cows at a Buck Brannaman clinic in Montana, July 2006)                  

I've been dealing with this internally for a while, because at first those emotions were too raw to even talk about. I feel like I'm going through all the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression... and acceptance. For those of you who keep in touch with me via Facebook, you probably saw some of the depression during this last week. I tend to think I'm more towards the acceptance stage-- although I spend good chunks of time not really in denial, but just desperately trying NOT to think about any of it. I don't feel despair and it's not really depression, it's just HARD to figure out what to do, how long to do it for, what the cut-off point should be, and then what and how to go to from there. I can't think about making any permanent decisions about either Poco or Roanie right now. We'll just sit and wait and watch. For how long...? I guess however long it takes before I know for sure what I'm supposed to do. And in the meantime I'll try to stay positive, because, as we all know, God has a plan for ALL of us, and all horses go to heaven eventually. I'm not despairing... just so sad thinking about the loss, and dreading having to make those final arrangements and saying those goodbyes.

Can I put horses' names on the prayer roll at the temple?

Here's the link to the Rainbow Bridge site for those of you who have lost a beloved pet:

www.indigo.org/rainbowbridge_ver2.html  (make sure your sound is on.)

At least my Dad will be there to walk across the Rainbow Bridge with Roanie...