I remember when I rode my wonderful horse for the last time, knowing it was the last time. I rode him bareback -- not bothering with a saddle, wanting to be that much closer to him. Not wanting the extra weight. I remember the feel of his muscles ... and the way it felt when he breathed.
We went to a lovely vista not far from the house. We'd been there maybe hundreds of times before. We waited there a few minutes. I remember it all. He became restless, pawed the ground ... so I let him turn around and make his way back home. That was always his favorite part. He knew there'd be apples waiting.
Bless you both.
Even more tears.......
I know. I cried most of the day after remembering this. And it was so many years ago. He had turned 35 the spring before that autumn. That's a good long life for a horse. I'd had him 25 of those years and we'd made that ride together so often.
But he'd stopped eating -- anything except his treats. Weight was just falling off him -- as if even he knew it was time to go ... before winter made it harder for both of us. So, I phoned the vet and arranged for the next day. Then he and I went out one last time together. Just a leisurely stroll. We took our time. I watched him roll in the pasture when we got home. He loved doing that, too.
Animals have been a huge part of my life. And losing them ... it never gets easy.
It is always harder each time than the previous time.
My last was Sara, a golden colored Cocker spaniel we had adopted.
She could not breathe well enough. She could not eat or drink. She spent her last day panting.
I was lying on the floor with her, looking into her eyes as her soul left her. That moment made me die inside and left room for more grief.
Your loss causes me pain because I know how you must feel.