...the end of an era

I haven't known how to write this post, where to start, what to say, or how I would get through it. I think the simple answer is that there is no answer. I don't think that it will ever be easy ever again.

I will not prolong the post. I lost my heart horse on October 11, 2013. My loving, amazing, gorgeous, honest heart horse.

As you read in the last post, we were on the upswing. Tuesday we had gotten word that her WBC count was up to 3.4 and she was passing feces. Wednesday we got a call that her WBC count was in the normal range and she was eating. Wednesday evening we got a call that she was feeling a bit uncomfortable and they believe that she had a small reimpaction. Thursday morning they told us that she had passed the oil they gave her. The impaction was gone; however, her WBC count was back down.

Shane and I left Thursday morning to head up to the mountains for our bachelor and bachelorette parties. I was with my whole family and my best friends at the Wine Bar when I got the phone call. Trinity had developed Colitis X. Wikipedia defines Colitis X as "a catchall term for various fatal forms of acute or peracute colitis found in horses, but particularly a fulminant colitis where clinical signs include sudden onset of severe diarrhea, abdominal pain, shock, and dehydration. Death is common, with 90% to 100% mortality, usually in less than 24 hours." They believed that they had caught it early and wanted to start her on a treatment course. The treatment was EXTREMELY expensive and had a success rate of less that 25%. They believe that the colitis was caused by an extreme build up of Salmonella due to the multiple long lasting impactions. My best friend was at the wine bar with me, and she had lost her pony 2 years previously to the same illness. She was an amazing support along with my mom and mother-in-law. I made the decision easily. I was distraught, but I was at peace. I called Shane and let him know what was happening and made the arrangements for the following morning.

 

My best friend and I with our babies that we lost to this awful illness. 

Shane and I enjoyed the rest of our events. I know that Trinity would not have wanted me to leave my wedding festivities. The vets stayed with her and made sure that she was extremely comfortable. Early Friday morning Shane, my friend, my mom, and I drove to the hospital. I spent about 30 minutes with Trinity before my daily vet arrived. I had asked him to come and be the vet due to his long relationship with me and Trinity.

I loved my baby more than life itself. She taught me so much about everything. I had 4 horses previous, and Trinity taught me more than all 4 of those horses combined. I know that she loved me and that she would want me to move on. I will continue to ride. I will continue to train Frosty and Shane. In fact, I will probably get another horse some time in the future. Nothing, NOTHING, though, will ever replace my love and devotion that I feel for Trinity. I will always use everything that she taught me, I will always do everything to honor her memory. 

My vet gave me a small vase with a single white rose. I honored my baby girl the next day at our wedding by placing the vase on the table with our Sand Ceremony and Marriage Certificate. I am going to get the vase engraved and always keep a single white rose ready for her. 

Crossing the Bridge

I stood beside your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying; you found it hard to sleep.

I whinnied to you softly as you brushed away a tear,

"It's me, I haven't left you. I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here."

I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.

I want to reassure you, that I'm not lying there.

I walked with you toward the house, as you fumbled for your key.

I put my head against you, nickered and said, "It's me."

You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.

I tried so hard to let you know that I was standing there.

It's possible for me to be so near you every day.

To say to you with certainty, "I never went away."

You sat there very quietly, then smiled; I think you knew.

In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.

And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,

I'll gallop across to greet you, and we'll stand there side by side.

I have so many things to show you, there's so much for you to see.

Be patient, live your journey out...then come home to be with me.