Consciousness is our only reprieve from Time.
It's said lightening never strikes twice, but bad luck, karma or just plain crap, strikes as much as it wants.
Neil Young's old song, about heroin addiction, has a somewhat different meaning in the context of this blog entry. We nearly had a needle and very permanent damage done to my mare, The Babe. I won't drone on about the long details of the day, but yesterday, two weeks to the day when Tanzar died, we were in the barn loft in sub-zero temperatures and darkness, with Babe, waiting for the vet to fill a syringe with the fluid which would end Babe's existence. My Babe, Diamond Rose's first foal, the dam of a US National Top Ten Mare and our Baby Girl, was shaking so violently as we stood waiting for the vet that I thought the barn shook with her. Two hearts were cracked wide open as we stood with her, trying to comfort her and to grasp what was happening. Then she spread her hind legs and peed, a long, hard, steady stream of urine, accompanied by an explosion of gas. And her eyes changed. Stop. Wait a minute, I need to see how she is. So back into the barn to check her again. Babe put her head down and started to eat hay in the aisle. I wanted to see if she would stay on her feet in her stall, so hay went in there as I released her from the lead. Head down, calmly munching hay. The muscle tremors stopped, although she still shivered. We started to hear faint gut sounds as she calmly ate. I wrapped her in a cooler and blanket, she received a fourth dose of banamine and we left her alone.
I checked The Babe throughout the night and she was relaxed, but tired from her very difficult day. Morning found her up and in resting position, both eyes swollen shut from the thrashing her head got as she struggled with the pain of her colic. But her hay was gone, as well as the water in the bucket. She's not out of it yet, as the coveted passing of manure has not yet happened, but she is not uncomfortable, so there is hope.
Someone I know told me a few years ago I was so lucky that I didn't have to go out to work in the world. This former friend said it would be wonderful to not have any stress. I think someone had to keep me from killing her with my bare hands.
Between the needle and the damage done, was Babe trembling herself out of a colic that was going to end her life. I think Tanzar's spirit told her to snap out of it, cause this is permanent. I told you he was the best horse on the farm