The pony is doing very well. From two weeks ago when I thought I would be euthanizing her, she is almost back to walking normally. She is retired, approaching her thirties, and could easily live up to 40 or 50. I feel very relieved.
Sunday, my retired Thoroughbred came back to me. His retirement home was sold and he needed to be moved and hence his return. He is now in his mid twenties and seems to be holding his own, although I did notice his melanomas have gotten larger and this will probably be what will kill him in the end.
I had hoped that we would be on our property by this time – with my horses at home. Unfortunately, despite the brief time in Missouri, we are back in the suburbs, living where I do not want to live, in a house that needs a lot of work, without the money to get it sell-ready until that money becomes available (December 2015).
I no longer have the passion about horses that I once had. It was burned out of me when my favorite horse had a long illness that ended in death. I miss it like an amputated arm. I mourn it but have no idea on how to re-spark it.
I have not ridden regularly in a long time and without that, and dealing only with stable-keeping issues of finding shelter, pasture, and buying food and medicine, horse care has become boring and monotonous.
I had hoped that this passion would return. Instead, I am met with sadness, regret and grief at every turn.