I started my new position in August. I turned another year older in August. September was beautiful and spent mostly at the barn.
It's taken me awhile to get to the point where I can post this.
October 9th was one of the most difficult in my life thus far. I had to make the impossible decision regarding my beautiful Rose. I got the call shortly after 7 that she was down and they couldn't get her up. I went immediately cold. I got out of bed and had difficulty dressing myself. I kept turning in circles. Some part of me must have known on another level that this was it.
She couldn't get up. She was totally there, mind and spirit, but her body was failing her. She couldn't get her hind end underneath her to get up and I wasn't sure that if we went through drastic measures to get her up, that she'd be able to stay standing. I didn't want to put her through that. I spent my lunch break sitting in the straw with her head in my lap as I told her just how very very loved she was. I was hoping for a miracle at that point. Her calm gaze told me I was doing the right thing. But hoooooooly hell was it hard. I couldn't even make that call, my fingers wouldn't dial. My manager let me leave early and I met the vet out there. As hard as it was for me, Rose left this world with my words of love in her ears and my kisses and tears on her face. There was no way I wasn't going to be there with her until the end. She's buried underneath the poplars and evergreens in the windbreak at the farm and I'll be planting a Rose bush there in the spring.
The next morning, it snowed for the first time. It made everything soft and pretty, almost like God had draped a blanket over her. Perfect.
Grief is a funny thing. It comes out of the blue in unexpected waves at the most unexpected times. I miss her. Every day. Rest in Peace my Rosie girl. Love you, always.
The other two definitely grieved. They're learning to be a pair and a team instead of rival siblings. The dynamic has changed. But they are still my goofy goofy goobers. We'll get through this.