Isis did so well on the Oroquin. She was back to herself. I was so excited to have my girl back: to hear her nicker when I walked into the barn, pull a halter off the wall and toss it on the ground to get my attention, and to be riding again. I wasn’t posting here. I have a backlog of posts showing how much she improved on the Oroquin. She had an incredible week this past week. So much improvement, so much back to her mischeivious self.
And now she is gone: her life stolen by the same disease we had been treating. Something happened to her brain to cause the symptoms she had. Was it the EPM, brain trauma, or what? I don’t know. The only final kindness I could do was to let my dearest girl go. Isis died tonight at 9:00. Letting her go was the best option, as much as it broke my heart. (More details later.)
How do you say goodbye to a mare who has been the center of your life for 18 years?
You don’t say goodbye. You remember the intense joy of sharing your life with such an amazing mare. She was the center of my world and she knew it. She jealously protected me from other horses and gave her affections and nickers freely.
Sleep well, my sweet little girl. I will miss you so much.
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[…] 10/11/2011 […]
[…] Some times the quality of the light triggers memories that aren’t about the time of day or the mare standing next to me. It’s the memory of the thousand-pound hole in my life left by Isis who died last year on October 11. […]