|
|
|
September 08, 2002 Those words repeat themselves like a broken record in my head. Such a seamingly simple request, but one that I couldn't do. I had to shake my head at the sobbing woman looking so desperatly at me. I held her in my arms, tears falling unchecked down my face as I searched for something, anything to say. Nothing could make the pain go away, nothing could lift the black cloud that followed us all around that day. Play-On was doing better Saturday morning, biting at me, and being her playful self. I medicated her, and went about my job. If only I had known, had some idea.. Susie called around ten thirty to check on Play, and we told her how well the horse was doing. Standing in her stall, neighing everytime we passed by. If only I had known.. At eleven fourty, Dr. Fuller ran into the clinic, and told me to get on the phone and get Play-on's blood work. He said he wanted it five minutes ago. I busily called to get the information, clueless to why. If only I had known... As I brought the blood work to him, I saw him in Play-on's stall, a stethascope to her chest. I crouched in the stall next to her, pulling her head in my lap, looking at the blank stare in her eyes. After a few moments, Dr. Fuller shook his head, ripping the stethascope from his ears. Now, I knew. She had been standing her in stall, a client told us, and then, just dropped, like someone had ripped the floor out from beneath her legs. Play-On had died. With this knowledge, and, knowing what it would do to Susie, I continued doing my job, but my mind was no where near there. My eyes kept watching the road, keeping watch for Susie's car. When Susie got there, she colapsed over Play-On's body, sobbing harder than I have ever heard anyone sob before. Her husband was at a loss for words, for, in this moment, there were none that could be said. I nealed down next to this woman, holding her in my arms, telling her I was so sorry. 'She can't be dead Heather, she can't. Please, help me get her up.' Susie began shaking Play-On, asking her to wake up, to come back. I began to cry. I would have done anything to be able to get that horse up for her. To make her alive, and well. Susie then began to blame herself, saying she hadn't done enough. I looked at the pillow that Susie had brought Play-On a few days previous. How many owners would have done that? Susie then began to say that she just couldn't live without Play-On. She said that Play didn't know how much she loved her. Stuff like that. As I held Susie in my arms, I told her that I was in the stall as Play died, that she didn't die alone. I told Susie that I told Play-On how much she loved her. I told her that Play-0n died peacefully. That she wanted Susie to remember her as the pain in the butt she was, not as a dying horse. Through her tears, Susie smiled, huging me so tightly, 'Thank you Heather, thank you for everything.' I gave Susie a braided piece of Play's tail, something I have done a million times before, to a million owners, but it had never hurt this bad. How do you assure someone that their heart will eventually heal? Play-On was burried last night at 7:15pm, and she will be sorely missed by everyone who came in contact with her. I have never seen so many tears shed at Countryside. Dr. Fuller hugged me, wiping tears from his eyes, asking me if I thought he had done all that he could. We are all plauged by the "What if's" that, deep inside, we know wouldn't have helped this horse. She just got tired of fighting, and had to let go. I look foward to seeing you again Play-On. "I will remember you, <-//->
|
