Iris

I’m grieving a little tonight. I care for a lot of geriatrics on the farm right now, old dog, old woman, old horse, old cow, and old tractor. Not to mention the old buildings and equipment. I’m usually fully prepared for something old to go to hell on a daily basis. But I found I really wasn’t prepared for my old horse to go down Friday night. Well, we said, her feet just got trimmed, must be sore. And besides, she got back up. She did that all weekend. Today, she didn’t get back up.

I find it hard to describe my feelings. I’m happy that I got all this time with her the last few months. I’m sad she’s leaving. Because it seems in life that there is never enough time. I keep crying when I think that she is the last animal on the place who knew my grandpa. It’s not much but my memories with her keep grandpa alive a little. It feels like with her dying that his life gets erased just a little bit more. But isn’t that all dying is? Being slowly erased from life?

Oh I could get quite morose tonight I see. It doesn’t help that Argo is worried over Iris finally or that Max, my 18 year old rott-lab-chow mix laid on my foot tonight over a beer. He doesn’t need people like Zip does so for him to seek out attention is rare.

I’m not looking forward to burying a horse tomorrow. I’ve never done it. I didn’t want to have to start with her. I want to give my horse a good death, a death equal to what she gave in life. And what she gave has been compassion, patience, gratitude, temperance, beauty, kindness, and peace. I ask only that I can give her a death equal to what she gave in life. (Not a tall order or anything.)