"As I started to picture the trees in the storm, the answer began to dawn on me. The trees in the storm don't try to stand up straight and tall. They allow themselves to bend and be blown with the wind. They understand the power of letting go. Those trees and those branches that try too hard to stand up strong and straight are the ones that break. Now is not the time for you to be strong, or you, too, will break".
I did get in touch with the MSPCA. Finn is tentatively scheduled to head back next Wednesday. The head of the barn there reminded us that we have literally done everything for him, and have gone above and beyond what anyone else would do. Everyone I talk to, including my vets, say it is the right decision.
It doesn't make this any easier. I keep thinking that I'm going to go up to the barn and Finn will be who he was again. It took my farrier two hours just to get his front feet trimmed and shod the other day. Then he kept trying to rock back on his hinds, and kind of like dancing with his hind legs while one of his front legs was up. Both me and my farrier could tell how uncomfortable he was, and she just took it super slow with him.
I really don't know what's wrong with Finn. I know that he has something going on with his back, and I know that the x-ray's show kissing spine. But his symptoms are so severe. He is near impossible to handle on the ground now, and acts like there are monsters everywhere. He is constantly turning his head to look behind him, snort, eyes wide, as if someone is going to attack him. His symptoms go beyond what a kissing spine diagnosis would be.
I have already started looking for another horse. Too soon, I know. But I can feel this hole in my heart growing. I am telling everyone that this is for the best, I can't do anything more for him, that he is not the horse for me, that I am at peace with this decision. I am the opposite of at peace with this decision. Now that I am losing him, I can't imagine my life without him. Can't imagine another horse taking his place.