I'm almost afraid to touch the subject of Patch. I'm still lost somewhere in that hour before I saw him standing there holding his leg in the oddest position.
I was walking to the store, that's not odd. They all followed me through the pasture, it's a short cut, that's not odd. When I told them "No Tex, no Katie, Patch go back" it was not odd. When I heard them running as I made my way up the road, it was not odd. There was nothing remarkable about the exchange, nothing at all. I walked away, sorta shaking my head at the "antics".
I came back, no less than an hour and a half later, and saw Patch standing stock still, looking my way, holding his leg in a position that even I could see from a distance (I'm half blind at a distance) was really really bad. I remember walking closer to him and half way thinking "no, no, just no" and half way thinking "what the heck has he gotten himself into now, damn it Patch".
The horror that ran through me when I knew it was "no, no, just no" and not "damn it Patch" came like waves; one second there they were playing at my feet, the next second seemingly pulling me under, only to let go so I could dance away just in time for it to start again. I held him, stroked his neck, gave him some munchies, he couldn't even bend all the way down to get his hay so I was hoisting it up for him, I talked to him. Not one ounce of what I said made any sense. All I could think was "Oh God no not Patch not him please god not him". I knew for Patch I had to shut up the fear and just let him know I loved him so very much, I'd always love him and how oh so special he was, so I just kept repeating it all over and over. Perhaps my need to say it over and over was for both our comfort. I told him how brave he was, how strong he was and that if we could we'd do everything to fix this, everything, anything.
My friends came over, Jenny and Kate and soon Kenneth and Kate's dad followed and Dale was here as well. I was praying Kate would see Patch and say "Ok now we know how you get all worried, he just popped something out of socket, he'll live". She didn't, she confirmed what I already knew. We all stood by him, got him some oats and hand fed him while three young women who loved this horse dearly talked to him and each other about the vet coming and telling us it's a blown muscle or something no one had seen before and that he'd make it through again. He had come through so very much, this could not be happening, not to Patch.
When Kate first got here I fell apart in her arms, this is not something I do, however the pain I felt when I looked at him was so intense I lost it. I look back and wonder if she had any idea that I'd fall into her arms and blow snot all over her sweater when she confirmed what I already knew. His leg was beyond repair. The vet came and made it all too clear again. It's all murky for me, the time that the vet was here, and it's all so vivid that each memory brings me to tears. It's as if time stood still the moment he said "Oh no that doesn't look good, there is nothing we can do, you can feel the breaks, his leg is swollen with blood, the one good thing is there is no wrestling with a decision here, we can do nothing for him except put him down..." I think those words followed by, "right here?" will haunt me for a very long time.
He was crazy gentle with Patch, and me. He explained it, he helped Patch down when the sedative took hold. Patch, right till the end didn't want anything to do with laying down, I suspect he knew that once down he'd not be up again. He didn't thrash about, he didn't make a huge fuss, he just didn't want to go down, the Dr. guided him in the end.
I sat with him while the Dr listened for his heart beat to stop and repeated the same I love yous that I had been repeating to him for the last two hours. I pray he knew I was at his side, holding him while he left.
After everyone left I sat with him some more and cried to my mom on the phone. I remember telling her I was freezing and that it couldn't be the weather cause it was not cold. I had been shaking since I saw him standing in the pasture with his leg all bend but I couldn't go anywhere, I sat there and thought how odd it was that I could not make my legs move, I could not get up and go get the jacket my mom said I probably should go get. So I sat there, holding his face, apologizing for fussing over his face when I knew he hated it, and promised him I'd resist the urge to bring up the brushes and make him "pretty".
I knew I should go comfort Tex and Katie cause they were watching me from their windows but I didn't know how, not right then, fuck I could barely move truth be told. Finally Leo, sitting a good hundred feet away got me to move. He was scared, I couldn't let him just sit there sacred. We went in the house for about an hour. I spoke to a friend of mine and asked if I was crazy to want to brush him and be there sitting in the middle of the pasture with him covered in a tarp. The tarp just drove me crazy, I hated covering him like that. It seemed so horribly undignified for such a proud proud soul. Jenny thank god, understood this and brought his blanket up so his gorgeous wonderful face was covered in that and not some god forsaken tarp. My friend assured me that I was not crazy and if sitting with him was what I wanted then by god go sit with him.
I sat with Patch until about 10pm. I talked to him about everything, about how special he was, about how I'd miss his standing at the front door waiting on a carrot, how proud I was to have been part of his life, how incredibly brave and wonderful he was always, how lucky I was to have known him, how sorry I was that he had to leave, and promised again that I'd not bring up the brushes and fuss over him cause I knew how much he hated it (or at least acted like he hated it).
The next day we (Kate, Jenny and I) called to have him removed and cremated. Kate and Jenny somehow knew what I needed yesterday and delivered it to me without one single word. We went to lunch, we went to see Perris, Charlie, and Lady, we went to meet a fabulous woman who was rescuing two ponies and then we came back to the farm to meet the gentleman who was to remove Patch. I will be forever grateful for the people that helped him through this, the Dr, the service that took him, not to mention my friends, there was respect and love in every moment.
I have wished so hard, over the last two days, to find the words that would do Patch justice. Words that would serve him well, explain somehow to whomever was listening that this horse was not just a horse. He was brave and proud and out spoken and smarter than most people I know. I looked at Patch every single day, a thousand times a day and every single glance found my heart swelling with love, every single glance. I may never be able to touch Patch with the written word and do him justice, he was and is beyond words for me right now. One day I hope to be able to tell his story, for today I will simply close with I love him, I will always love him and not a day will go by when I don't picture his blanketed rear end, or remember how many times he looked at me and spoke through a turn of his head or a blink of his eye.
I was walking to the store, that's not odd. They all followed me through the pasture, it's a short cut, that's not odd. When I told them "No Tex, no Katie, Patch go back" it was not odd. When I heard them running as I made my way up the road, it was not odd. There was nothing remarkable about the exchange, nothing at all. I walked away, sorta shaking my head at the "antics".
I came back, no less than an hour and a half later, and saw Patch standing stock still, looking my way, holding his leg in a position that even I could see from a distance (I'm half blind at a distance) was really really bad. I remember walking closer to him and half way thinking "no, no, just no" and half way thinking "what the heck has he gotten himself into now, damn it Patch".
The horror that ran through me when I knew it was "no, no, just no" and not "damn it Patch" came like waves; one second there they were playing at my feet, the next second seemingly pulling me under, only to let go so I could dance away just in time for it to start again. I held him, stroked his neck, gave him some munchies, he couldn't even bend all the way down to get his hay so I was hoisting it up for him, I talked to him. Not one ounce of what I said made any sense. All I could think was "Oh God no not Patch not him please god not him". I knew for Patch I had to shut up the fear and just let him know I loved him so very much, I'd always love him and how oh so special he was, so I just kept repeating it all over and over. Perhaps my need to say it over and over was for both our comfort. I told him how brave he was, how strong he was and that if we could we'd do everything to fix this, everything, anything.
My friends came over, Jenny and Kate and soon Kenneth and Kate's dad followed and Dale was here as well. I was praying Kate would see Patch and say "Ok now we know how you get all worried, he just popped something out of socket, he'll live". She didn't, she confirmed what I already knew. We all stood by him, got him some oats and hand fed him while three young women who loved this horse dearly talked to him and each other about the vet coming and telling us it's a blown muscle or something no one had seen before and that he'd make it through again. He had come through so very much, this could not be happening, not to Patch.
When Kate first got here I fell apart in her arms, this is not something I do, however the pain I felt when I looked at him was so intense I lost it. I look back and wonder if she had any idea that I'd fall into her arms and blow snot all over her sweater when she confirmed what I already knew. His leg was beyond repair. The vet came and made it all too clear again. It's all murky for me, the time that the vet was here, and it's all so vivid that each memory brings me to tears. It's as if time stood still the moment he said "Oh no that doesn't look good, there is nothing we can do, you can feel the breaks, his leg is swollen with blood, the one good thing is there is no wrestling with a decision here, we can do nothing for him except put him down..." I think those words followed by, "right here?" will haunt me for a very long time.
He was crazy gentle with Patch, and me. He explained it, he helped Patch down when the sedative took hold. Patch, right till the end didn't want anything to do with laying down, I suspect he knew that once down he'd not be up again. He didn't thrash about, he didn't make a huge fuss, he just didn't want to go down, the Dr. guided him in the end.
I sat with him while the Dr listened for his heart beat to stop and repeated the same I love yous that I had been repeating to him for the last two hours. I pray he knew I was at his side, holding him while he left.
After everyone left I sat with him some more and cried to my mom on the phone. I remember telling her I was freezing and that it couldn't be the weather cause it was not cold. I had been shaking since I saw him standing in the pasture with his leg all bend but I couldn't go anywhere, I sat there and thought how odd it was that I could not make my legs move, I could not get up and go get the jacket my mom said I probably should go get. So I sat there, holding his face, apologizing for fussing over his face when I knew he hated it, and promised him I'd resist the urge to bring up the brushes and make him "pretty".
I knew I should go comfort Tex and Katie cause they were watching me from their windows but I didn't know how, not right then, fuck I could barely move truth be told. Finally Leo, sitting a good hundred feet away got me to move. He was scared, I couldn't let him just sit there sacred. We went in the house for about an hour. I spoke to a friend of mine and asked if I was crazy to want to brush him and be there sitting in the middle of the pasture with him covered in a tarp. The tarp just drove me crazy, I hated covering him like that. It seemed so horribly undignified for such a proud proud soul. Jenny thank god, understood this and brought his blanket up so his gorgeous wonderful face was covered in that and not some god forsaken tarp. My friend assured me that I was not crazy and if sitting with him was what I wanted then by god go sit with him.
I sat with Patch until about 10pm. I talked to him about everything, about how special he was, about how I'd miss his standing at the front door waiting on a carrot, how proud I was to have been part of his life, how incredibly brave and wonderful he was always, how lucky I was to have known him, how sorry I was that he had to leave, and promised again that I'd not bring up the brushes and fuss over him cause I knew how much he hated it (or at least acted like he hated it).
The next day we (Kate, Jenny and I) called to have him removed and cremated. Kate and Jenny somehow knew what I needed yesterday and delivered it to me without one single word. We went to lunch, we went to see Perris, Charlie, and Lady, we went to meet a fabulous woman who was rescuing two ponies and then we came back to the farm to meet the gentleman who was to remove Patch. I will be forever grateful for the people that helped him through this, the Dr, the service that took him, not to mention my friends, there was respect and love in every moment.
I have wished so hard, over the last two days, to find the words that would do Patch justice. Words that would serve him well, explain somehow to whomever was listening that this horse was not just a horse. He was brave and proud and out spoken and smarter than most people I know. I looked at Patch every single day, a thousand times a day and every single glance found my heart swelling with love, every single glance. I may never be able to touch Patch with the written word and do him justice, he was and is beyond words for me right now. One day I hope to be able to tell his story, for today I will simply close with I love him, I will always love him and not a day will go by when I don't picture his blanketed rear end, or remember how many times he looked at me and spoke through a turn of his head or a blink of his eye.
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