What Does Letting Them Go On A Good Day Look Like?

For Brat it looked like extra apples, alfalfa cubes, grooming and a Bemer.

It looked like feeling his oats, rearing, and then jigging as we walked around the barn.

It looked like a good roll in the sand ring, leaping up, and bolting around the ring, throwing in the occasional leap and buck.

It looked like another roll in the sand before going out to the field with the best grazing.

It looked like staying out and grazing longer than usually allowed, until the vet arrived.

Today we let Brat go, free of the pains of age and old injuries. He was in good weight, breathing well, and enjoyed that last tear around. After Twenty-seven years, six months, and seven days, I know it was the right time to let him go.

My heart is shattered.

Brat
Super Brat
Rembrandt
Artistic License

April 22, 1998 - October 29, 2025

Half an Hour of Peace

Only a few days left now. There are a few things I would have liked to do one more time with him. I gave up on some of them a while ago, but I would like to go out to the forestry centre one more time to take some photos with the autumn leaves.

It might not happen. Brat came in with a painful swelling on a hind leg last week. I suspect he hit the fence in kicking out at the four year old nipping at him. At any rate it was sore enough that I haven't been riding, and have reduced the handwalking.

We are still going out for grass every day. It has become a half hour of peace, during which I can simply let go of the pending loss and just watch him graze. Everything is set. There are no more decisions to be made, no more tasks to be done. I can just sit in the moment during our time, and take some photos of everyday activities.

The grief comes later, after he's back in his paddock.

Nearing the End

I set the end date today. It was tough.

Two years ago I learned the deadstock company has pickup scheduled by area. They wouldn't schedule in advance, and required a phone call after euthansia to arrange pickup for the following day. Today I called to find out when they picked up in my area, and afterwards asked the vet clinic to schedule an appointment.

We had a lot of rain earlier this week. Enough to make the footing a bit muddy. Enough to stress Brat's fragile stifle. It is confirmation, if I needed it, that it is time. That this is the right decision for Brat.

That knowledge doesn't stop the pain. It doesn't bring confidence, or peace with the decision. I'm still crying, even as I make the necessary arrangements. I'm still losing my dear friend of over twenty-seven years.