I haven't said much about Blitz lately, and I guess it's because I haven't wanted to say this, but here goes.
Blitz isn't doing well. He's lost weight, a lot of weight. He looks as bad or maybe worse than I've ever seen him and it's happened fast. I thought it was most likely his dental problem combined with a hard winter, so I had the vet come out and float his teeth. When the vet said his teeth weren't really bad, that took the wind out of my sails. If he got that bad and there wasn't a reason...
Blitz has always been a hard keeper, and he usually gets pretty poor in the winters, but this...? It's bad. He's sunken in and caved in. the muscles in his neck are deteriorating. His hindquarters are drawn up, ribs showing, for goodness sakes, his breast bone is poking out! I don't think he weighs 700 pounds. Mike's horse, Daisy, is the same height and weighs about 1100 pounds. That's the difference between the two. Granted, she's a chubby chick, but still.
Blitz still puts his ears up and his eyes are bright...enough. But he's not my Blitz, the psycho as my kids call him.
I don't think he's in pain, but I'm no longer confident of that. I hate seeing him this way and I hate worrying that I'm going to wake up one morning and he's going to be dead in the pasture.
I'm giving serious consideration to putting my sweet boy down. Burying him under the maple tree out back. Giving him the rest he deserves. I don't want him to suffer.
Oh, but I'm so not ready to let him go. I call his name every time I leave the house and he looks up, turning that beautiful white face in my direction, ears forward, as if to say, "Yes, Mama? And where's my treat?" As soon as he realizes I'm not giving him a treat he casually dismisses me and turns back to his grazing. Or he walks to the fence, just for a scratch and in the slim hope I'll cave and give him a treat anyway. My boy loves me. And just looking at him is my therapy. Without him, I couldn't have made it through these last years of a roller coaster marriage and divorce. He's better than all the therapy in the world.
And oh, how I love him. I can't stand to see him like this. We've been through this cycle almost every year for the past eight, and every year it gets worse. It's wearing him down. Even in the summer he doesn't get his strength back.
Can I say good bye? Should I?
