A nondescript day that starts much the same as most other days...we feed, we clean, we go to our real jobs.
At 3 pm I leave my office to come home to the farm because it is time to say goodbye to our precious boy Junah. The backhoe came last night and dug the grave.
A quiet time, no fan fare, no hysterics. I feed Junah a full measure of oats and throw him some hay, pat his face...feed the others and fill water tubs. Then I go and sit with Junah in his paddock. I sit on the large hay bale, he eats and comes and visits me every now and then. I observe and study him...wanting to see something that can put a stop to what I know is coming...some miracle of sorts. What I see is a very ataxic Junah. He played hard yesterday along the fence, even had a few bucks and his body is paying for it today. He buckles his legs under himself a couple of times and stumbles. He picks his hinds up and swings them in a circular motion. My miracle is not going to happen. I know we are doing the right thing but wonder why the "right thing" seems so hard?.
I wait and listen to the quiet...Junah crunching hay...birds singing...a crow scolding in the distance. I am not going to cry...I won't...not right now.
The vet comes up the driveway, my heart sinks a little and I swallow hard......time is up...I go to meet him and direct him to the upper paddock. Just the two of us and Junah. Junah is very suspicious of this new person and blows/snorts his displeasure. I snap a lead on him and take him out by the grave. I pat him and tell him he is brave and such a good boy...he gets a tranquilizer and he visibly relaxes. I stroke his nose and ears, give him a kiss, tell him to not be scared...and then the vet administers the final syringe of what will take Junah away from us for good.
It is over in less than a minute.
I sit with him for a long while, then we cover him until the tractor can come. I walk the vet back to the front...say my goodbyes and thank him.
I walk up the back road to the neighbor and ask if he can come now...but he is eating dinner and so we must wait a little bit. I walk back down to the farm and I sit with Junah again. I pull the cover back and away from his head...I am still struck by how beautiful he is, even in death....and then I close his eyes, pet his face and I cry. He was so young and so short changed.
Chelsea and I have loved him probably more than he was ever loved in his short life...and so did Hana, his guardian angel.
No more pain, no more discomfort...you don't have to be scared anymore Junah...rest in peace. I hope you are running like the wind somewhere beautiful.
Rosemary and Chelsea
Special thanks to my vet and the kind neighbor and his wife who brought the tractor down to bury Junah..the wife stood with me and it was comforting......and also thanks to Jerry for digging the grave. Sandy, thank for the tremendous effort on Junah's poor feet...you worked miracles on them.Chelsea......thanks for your time, your heart, your love for this boy......I am sorry we couldn't "fix" him....if love had been the cure.....we surely had enough to go around.