At this point I know I won't ask my horse to go through another winter. If the timing works out the way I think, the vet will come on the last Tuesday in October. Just over two months. Nine weeks. Sixty three days.
The questions still come. Is it really time? Is there something I could do? What if... But now I know those aren't real questions because I have been here three times before. These questions come because I don't want to think about saying goodbye to my friend of over twenty-seven years. I've spent more of my life with him than without him.
It is time. This is the right thing to do for my horse. That certainty doesn't make it any easier.
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