RIP Pony Toes

It isn't fair that bad genetics made me let you go far too early.

I wrote this when I had to put down my beloved Fudge:

Nothing quite equals the love of a pony
From when they are young till they get old and bony.
they take up a big huge chunk of your heart
Then at their death it gets torn painfully apart
I will miss you my best equine friend
But I will do my best for you up till the end.
I hope that you're happier on the next plane
But right now all I can think of is pain
I hate that this is causing me such horrible grief
But I know that the end will be your relief.

Penny's Tail

If I needed another reason to know it's time for her, all I have to do is look under her tail. Which, she's not thrilled about doing at present, I suspect it hurts.

The friends

Bit? Or can I finally ride?

The Taskmaster is repossessing her baucher, the bit I've been riding Banana in. I therefore needed to go into my small pile and pull something out for her. I grabbed the myler comfort snaffle, as it's different than everything else we've had her in. Either she really, really likes it or I finally figured out how to ride my horse. She isn't rooting and is more accepting of contact. I've been having a lot of fun with her the last couple of rides. We've jumped small logs out in the field and over the ditches. She even jumped over the ditch today by herself to come see me. We jumped our first 2' fence on Saturday and our first tiny oxer today. She was completely steady when Penny and Sonny ran up to us the other day and were cavorting around her butt.

I am absolutely sure bringing her home was the right thing. We're really bonding. It's fun to be out with her in the evenings fussing (Penny was not tolerant of fussing.) She still walks very quickly, but I'm okay with it now as I know it doesn't mean she's going to take off, she just walks fast. We've been down the road with my favorite neighbor and her mules (who are in love with her.) She's a little silly until we meet up with them, but once with them I can ride her on the buckle.

She still needs crap loads of training, but I think we can probably safely get around an event at pre-comp this summer.

Sonny's back!

I've missed his sweet old man face. Banana is acting like she thinks he should be the model for the cover of 50 Bales of Hay.

Conversation from earlier:

Me: Vet, I think Banana might have ulcers.

Vet: I think Banana is giving you ulcers.

Banana's pacing is driving me nuts. Hence, Sonny coming, to see if his company might be more sufficient to her needs than Penny's. Right now I want to yell at the two of them to get a room, but that's far better than pacing.

Playtime at the Fox Den

And then there are the days even the big things don't help

The feel of a pony's muzzle on your hand as she licks apple juice from it. Trying to sear that feeling into your memory, knowing you won't get to feel it for much longer. The tears... knowing she's not well, knowing you're doing the right thing, mourning that your time left together is so limited. Pony, even though you haven't been able to really touch her in months standing there, your hand on her neck, while you sob. She gave me back my confidence when she shouldn't have. She took me over every jump, never questioning. I love her so much. Even with all of her quirks part of my soul is in that pony. She's like a pony horcrux. Maybe all horses are horcruxes: we give them part of our soul and when they die our soul dies too. Fortunately, we seem to be able to make unlimited horsie horcruxes. I'm trying to be pragmatic, but my being hurts.

Six foxes this morning

The small things aren't really small

There's a line in Under the Tuscan Sun that goes, "try to live your life spherically and with childish enthusiasm."

It very much sums up my outlook on life.

I take a lot of joy in things that many people don't bother to take the time to notice. I love the birds, even the early morning cacophony of the meadowlarks. I love that we have both House Finch and Mountain Bluebird nests in the backyard and three different types of hummingbirds come to the feeder. There's the foxes and the white clouds against the deep blue of our high elevation sky. The light of late afternoon, the sun approaching the horizon, a cool breeze blowing through the less obedient tendrils of my hair. My Heeler curled up next to me on the couch, his nose resting on my hip, snoring as he sleeps. Finding a wildflower, a particularly nice pinecone, or the cool spray of a waterfall full from spring snowmelt.

Take time to enjoy what others might term "the small things." Because when you appreciate them, they aren't small, but fulfilling.  I wonder if those that don't feel empty.

More than I thought! Three!