It’s been almost two months since Isis passed. I took a brief break from working and read through the post I wrote about Kasane at the Pony Club / Horsemaster game day. Kasane was such a goof that day — and she was so good. Remembering that day made me smile.
And then I came to the posts of Isis’ EPM history. I kept scrolling. I don’t know why. Stupid, stupid me.
Because I saw her pictures, on the ground, with her legs out and the memories came flooding back. Remembering with a slow-motion clarity like watching a deer crashing into a car with a kamikaze-certainty. The vet telling me to stand back because being near Isis could be dangerous because of her lack of coordination. Isis nickering as the vet came near and inserted the needle with the final dose of good-bye meds. Isis nickering and then falling, falling sideways. Landing on the muddy ground with a squish, slide. Stillness. Putting my hand on her neck and feeling the fading spirit fly to another pasture.
My poor little girl.
I should know better.
