Mark, Millie, and Me

Mark Twain once wrote,  "The report my death was an exaggeration" when his obituary was posted before he had actually died. Well, I could write the same thing now only I'd change a word or two. "The news of Millie's death was incorrectly posted." 

Here's what happened: Often I write blog posts in advance and schedule them to post on certain dates. That was the case with the news of Millie's passing. She has been ill since right after Christmas, spending three days in a vet hospital down in Indianapolis, then coming home where she began struggling again a day or two later.

The day I wrote about Millie's passing, Teacher Daughter Lisa had had to go into her classroom and record some lessons for virtual teaching. She asked me to stay with Millie at her home until she could get back. Lisa had made a vet appointment for that afternoon where (we thought) Millie would be euthanized. 

That post was scheduled to go live Wednesday. Wednesday rolled around and Millie was still with us - the vet had suggested we try a new medicine and give Millie 24 hours and see how she did. I debated taking the blog entry down, but we had another vet appointment for later that day with the expectation (again) that she would be euthanized.

But Millie continued to improve. So much so that the vet suggested we keep on treating Millie, give her another twenty-four hours, and then bring her back for a check.

Millie, me, and Molly at Teacher Daughter Lisa's home.

That check was last night and Millie was even better. I saw her after that appointment and she looked like a different dog. Her eyes were bright and she was much stronger physically and showing interest in what was going on around her. So, as long as this rally continues and Millie is happy and not hurting or struggling, Lisa will not euthanize her. 

I don't know how much time we have left with this sweet doggie, but I plan to enjoy every moment of it. And the next time I post that Millie has passed, you can count on it not having been "greatly exaggerated." 

Tara's New Horse

In May while I was out in Utah visiting my daughter and her family, I got together with hobbyist Tara Oliver who invited us to come over for lunch and then visit her horses. (Go here for that blog post.)

A flat shod Tennessee Walker enthusiast, Tara had two mares  and we got to spend a lovely hour or so with them.

  Casper and T-Bone.

T-Bone and Casper were very patient as the little kids swarmed around them wielding brushes and mane combs. (When they finished, the bottom half of the horses was very clean; the top half not so much!)

Sadly, T-Bone had to be euthanized a few weeks ago and Tara had some difficult days as she adjusted to the loss of her sweet mare.

Then began the search for a new horse. Tara specifically wanted a gaited breed, so she looked for Tennessee Walkers and Missouri Fox Trotters.  After visiting many barns and ranches, Tara brought home this girl.

Maggie, a lovely chestnut Missouri Fox Trotter.

Isn't this a beautiful picture of Casper and Maggie?

The mares have made friends with one another and Maggie is settling into her new home.

Lucky Tara, lucky Casper, and lucky, lucky Maggie.

The Loss of a Horse

When I saw Tim at church Sunday, I mentioned that I had only seen Guppy, the other boarder's horse, out at pasture the other day. There was no sign of his pasture buddy, Shayne. Where was he? Had his owner sold him?

Guppy

 Tim took a deep breath. "He died," he said sadly.

 Shayne and Guppy grazing in the pasture by the blue barn in August.

I was not expecting to hear that! Tim went on the explain that on Thursday Holly, their owner, had come out to feed and found that Shayne had been hurt - he'd been kicked in the head by Guppy or had banged it badly on a beam in the blue barn perhaps in some dust up between the two. The vet had come out and had had to euthanize him due to the extent of the injury.

My heart broke for Holly. I don't know her well; she moved her horses to Tim's in August and comes out twice a day to feed and do barn chores. (Boarders renting the blue barn and its pasture do all their own work and barn checks. Tim does not take care of their horses for them.) I know she loves her guys and gives them good care. 

As soon as church was over I texted my condolences to her. Holly responded right away, and said that she and Guppy were taking it one day at a time. I didn't want to ask her what her plans are, but she's horsewoman enough to know that horses are herd animals and keeping one horse by itself can be problematic. Time will tell, but she needs a chance to grieve and mourn first.

Rest in peace, Shayne. You are missed.

Goodbye, Coco

The loss of a beloved animal is difficult; losing two in a short amount of time even more so. My sister lost Skippy earlier this year and had to euthanize her miniature horse, Coco, yesterday.

One of my favorite pictures of Coco.

Like Abby, Coco came through Indiana Horse Rescue. In fact, we brought them home together, dropping Coco off at Leslie's farm and then heading out to Tim's where Abby has lived ever since.

Coco was in his mid thirties and had developed Cushings Disease a year or so ago. Combined with some age-related issues, it was time to let him go. It was easy and peaceful for him.

For the first time in forty-nine years, my sister is horseless. She doesn't know quite how to handle that - she kept her horses at her own home, and has sweeping views of the pastures from her windows. And now those pastures are empty.

I have volunteered to go with her to Indiana Horse Rescue and look at possibilities when she is ready. But I am not sure she will replace Skippy and Coco. Like me, she's getting older and caring for horses is hard work. Plus, she's a breast cancer survivor and has some health issues.

I guess time will tell. In the meantime, she can come hug Abby whenever she needs a horsey fix.

Goodbye to Skippy

Yesterday my sister had to euthanize Skippy, her Paint gelding. He'd suddenly begun to drop weight and had been diagnosed with cancer a while ago, so it was time.

He was thirty-two and she'd had him for twenty years, so Skippy had had a long, happy life.

Skippy was also blind in both eyes and had been from birth. He always had his head cocked so he could listen well, and as a result, the muscles on one side of his neck became quite large while those on the other side atrophied.

Skippy and my granddaughter, Trinity.

Blindness did not hold Skippy back. He was happy and friendly, and as the first picture showed, could even be ridden.

Lisa and Skippy.

Rest in a very well-deserved peace, Skippy You will be terribly missed.