It's snowing. Again. More. I don't like.
This morning I was supposed to haul Quiet Storm up to the vet clinic for her health certificate. I don't know what time the snow began falling, but I do know there was enough on the ground when I woke up at 5 to think twice about hauling anywhere. The temps are low, 29 F, so the flakes are small and not accumulating much. But it's not stopped all day. The vet, bless his heart, came here.
I've struggled to overcome these feelings of loss over Quiet Storm. I regret letting Darling make this decision. I'm the one who put it into her head, and although I tried to talk her out of adopting last month, it wasn't because I didn't want her to sell, but rather I wanted her to sell before getting a new horse. We're both grieving right now, feeling a bit as though we're betraying our old friend. I wonder what goes through the minds of horses who are bought and sold? Do they feel confused, unloved, forgotten? The one blessing is that Stephanie will spend every spare minute with Storm when she gets there, and I know that little mustang will thrive on it.
So, depending on the weather, tomorrow is the day we'll say goodbye to our dear little friend. I keep telling myself, "One less mouth to feed, one less paddock to clean, and one less set of hooves to trim..." And at some point next summer, Firecracker will have foaled, giving Darling and I one more project to look forward to.