It’s never easy saying good-bye

To the Editor:

Owning a pet is everyone’s joy. They bring you joy, laughter, tears, right up to the very end.

Each and every one will hold a special part of your heart. We all pick the pets we want to have, whether it’s a cat or dog, or cow, or bird — the list goes on and on.

My animals have always been a part of my life. All my dogs go with me no matter where I go. Sometimes in the truck, or the bucket of the tractor. You can find them on the four-wheeler, hanging out on the dock waiting for me to throw the stick in the water.

I’ve even owned pot-belly pigs. One I raised in the house named Barney. He would sit on the floor by you watching TV, waiting for a handout. If you lay on the floor, he would come over, grunt, and curl up with you.

In a special way, pets love you just as much as you love them.

No matter what they look like, they are yours and you take care of them from start to finish. If they need to go on a diet, you buy low calorie food. If they need to gain weight, you buy high calorie food. When they are sick you take them to the vet, or have the vet come to them. You do everything in your power to make sure they are cared for. That’s the bond you have with them.

This past Sunday, I had to make a decision I’d been putting off. My mare had a knee injury which made her unsound for riding, but OK for pasture retirement. I accepted that because she gave me beautiful babies, hours of trail riding, and she even helped with handicapped riding lessons.

The time had come when the pain medicine was not working, she was lying down a lot more, and she couldn’t make the trip to her pasture with her buddies without tripping and falling down.

I held her head, stroked her neck, and whispered softly to her, saying, “You just can’t do this anymore and I can’t watch you struggle to be the horse you want to be.”

The call was made. I knew what my vet was going to say, but my mind was saying tell me something different.

We both looked at each other. I said, “it’s time, isn’t it?” She assured me I did my best to keep her comfortable, but putting it off is only causing more pain. I looked at her and nodded, “OK.”

While the vet was getting things together, Brandy and I made our last trip across the creek up to the pasture she loved to run and play in. We came to a spot I had picked out where she loved standing in the morning sun waiting for me to do morning chores. With one last nod I held brandy’s head and told her, “I love you. It’s time to be with your momma and run free again like you used to.”

The pain was gone. I was left in tears, but I had the memories I will never forget.

I had made a call to a friend with a backhoe, telling him today was the day. He said, “I will be down.” I heard the backhoe coming down the road. I was so thankful Kevin Crosier and his son Justin were able to come.

I met them at the top of the driveway, and told them to follow me up to the pasture. I showed them where to dig the grave and Kevin lined up the backhoe and started. After a few minutes, Justin asked if there was anything I wanted to go with her, so I went and got her winter blanket she wore. I placed the blanket on the ground and went to Brandy’s side one last time to say my final goodbye. RIP my girl. You will be missed.

I would like to say a special thanks to Dr. Calsey Grant from the Equine Clinic at Oakencroft for being there for me and always giving me support when I need it. Without her guidlines and Dr. Anina LaCour I would never have made it through these tough decisions.

My final thanks to Kevin Crosier and his son Justin for coming to my aid on a Sunday. They are good friends and neighbors who always are there for you.

Barbara Kennedy

Berne

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