The Perseids

I went out to do a bed check tonight with carrots in hand.

I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the Perseid meteor showers. I wanted to see the shooting stars. To make a wish or two. I wanted to envision Parlay prancing among those heavenly bodies...

He's gone. It's been weeks and it has taken me so long to just put thoughts together to face the reality of it all. I miss him terribly. My heart aches with loss. It was the worst day of my life; the day that I had to let him go.

The past year has been so crazy--balancing meds and therapies and homeopathy...I don't begrudge a moment of it and the varying levels of success were worth each step that we took. I am glad that I was able to keep him looking and feeling as good as I could for as long as I did.

But I knew the heat and humidity of the summer was going to make it difficult to continue. I knew it was coming. I was watching Parlay so carefully--monitoring his quality of life. I could see the decline. He was fighting so hard to deny it and perhaps so was I. The Lasix was not having the same effect. The supplements were going uneaten in the pail. Everything was starting to crumble and it was happening quickly.

I knew in my heart that Parlay was not going to go quietly. He was never a quitter. Ultimately, Parlay was going to leave it to me to choose. Maybe this was the lesson that I had left to learn. The lesson of dignity? The lesson of unselfish behavior? I simply don't know, but this past July 16th, almost a year after his diagnosis, Parlay forced me to make the decision to let him go.

My heart is broken. The herd is still trying to recover from the loss of their leader. The stillness that surrounds my place resonates in my ears. I miss his nicker. I miss his order. My emptiness is tangible and it hurts deeply.

I thought that perhaps I needed my privacy. I ran away that fateful Friday. Far, far away for a few days. I needed to get away from my place and the darkness that it seemed to hold. Running away was a temporary fix for my grieving. I came home to that same emptiness and sadness and boy, it took a long time to come to grips with it all.

But I think that I am, finally. I will miss Parlay every day. He was my partner and best friend. My "mirror image," who saw my good times and my bad times. Twenty four years of a life together---the longest relationship, outside of my family, that I have ever had.

On that fateful day, I know that Parlay laid down in my love. I am sure that he met God and the rest of his friends as he took those last couple of galloping steps and breathed in that last breath... I whispered my goodbyes and told him that I would see him soon...

So, I looked to the night sky. To the stars and the meteor showers. I smile through tears and imagine the Parlay I knew so many years ago--ripping through the fields, chasing the wind. I know that I will never truly be without him. He is in my heart and I will never be alone.

I will miss you forever, my beloved Arabian, Parlay.

RD PARLAY
4/16/1984-6/16/2010

Apologies...

To everyone that has been following my saga,

I created this blog for two reasons: One, to keep a log of what it is that I have done to help my horse (and me) get through one of the toughest events that we have ever faced and, Two, to keep everyone posted on the care and status of both Parlay and me.

I have to apologize to everyone that is calling and emailing and texting me with questions or concerns or even just sympathy. Please know that I am having a very difficult time right now and I am just not up to talking. Know also that I am so very grateful for everything everyone has done and said and thought and prayed---it means the world to me. And to Parlay.

But for now, it needs to be just us two, so please do not be offended by the fact that I have kind of vanished. I will be back. I promise.

The Light?

It has been a rough couple of weeks since the July 4th debacle. The event created a downward spiral for Parlay from which I am beginning to think that he can not recover. I can't say for sure that it was the circumstance or the subsequent record high temperatures or the different allergens floating around or if it is just time, but I think that I am getting to the end of my blog.

Parlay simply is not "bouncing back," as is characteristic of him. His respiration is labored and shallow and fast. His heart beat is very irregular and it feels very strong, yet appears to be ineffective. The coughing comes on less frequently, but I think that is because he is just becoming used to the sensation of heavy breathing. Parlay does not appear to be anxious, more tired and quiet.

Par hasn't finished a meal since July 4th. I was very concerned about weight loss, but it looked like he wasn't really loosing weight at all, which I found quite odd. However, looking at him now, I think that I can see the reason why.

Edema.

It truly is the beginning of the end. Fluid is building up around his lower mid line and it is not going away. His sheath has become slightly swollen as well. He is moving rather oddly (being that he has always been a beautiful mover, this is kind of painful to see) and I am guessing it is because of the weird way his body is holding this water weight. He does not seem to be painful, but I wonder how long that can last.

I have been giving him up to 3 Lasix injections a day for the past week. He is also getting some banamine to combat some of the swelling, although I am not sure it is doing much. The supplements are pointless because he simply is not eating enough to get them. Anything that I feel is "non-negotiable" goes into a syringe for an oral dosing--like electrolytes and the Accupril.

Tonight we even tried some oxygen. Talk about heroic effort. It seems insane to actually put it in type, but I just want him to feel better--even if just for a day. Not to prolong his life, per se, but to make what is left peaceful and easy. For both of us.

The emotion that is taking over has been unbearable for me. I am coming to the realization that, ultimately, I am going to be responsible for making a decision for my stoic horse who will simply not lie down and give up. It is eating me alive because I cannot get a clear read on what it is that Parlay wants or needs.

I wonder if Parlay is looking for the light... you know-- "THE LIGHT." Does he know that his time is almost up? Does he care? Would he like me to expedite the process or slow it down?

Over the past few days, I have spent quite a bit of time with Parlay. It seems as if grass is the only thing that Par seems most interested in, so we spend plenty of time perusing the yard and picking out only the best grasses and most delicious weeds. I talk to him constantly. I watch him and listen for any thoughts that he might care to impart. I reminisce and laugh and thank him and gush over him. I give him as many treats as he will eat (although he is loosing his taste for mostly everything it seems).

I tell him that it is okay to go. Maybe I am not saying it with enough sincerity. Probably because it isn't necessarily true. I don't want him to go. I never want him to go. But I don't want him to stay for me if he is miserable. How do you tell? My judgement seems so cloudy. I beg God for clarity. I beg Parlay to just give me some signs-- but, again, perhaps every sign is right there and I am not seeing it because I am blind or am choosing not to see.

In my defense, my tears are making everything so blurry. My stomach aches and my heart hurts. My brain aches and my soul is utterly darkened. So, I had to ask for back up. I asked my friend Kim to come over and see Parlay. Kim has cared for Parlay for years and probably knows him better than anyone else. I was kind of hoping that she would be able to help me with clarity. In actuality, I was kind of hoping that she would see Parlay and tell me that he was looking good.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate with our scheduled visit. With a day gone by, I realize that I am probably grasping at straws. I think that I know what I see. I thought maybe a second set of eyes would see something different, but truthfully, I know where this is headed.

I guess it boils down to the fact that I don't want to be the one that sends Parlay away. I want so badly for it to be his choice. He has always stubbornly chosen everything that he has wanted. And I think to myself, What does he want me to do?? Would he have me end his life? Is he ready to go? Can I do this with dignity and compassion and with peace?

Please God, help me.

So, as our 12 months winds up, almost to the day, I am faced with the end. The journey is almost over. I feel it. I know it. And now we just need to figure out the conclusion to our story.

I am not sure that this will be continued...

When is Enough enough?

Today has been difficult for my old man. The air is heavy and hot, like being inside of a clothes dryer. I guess I should be happy that the humidity is relatively low.

The coughing led me to giving him a dose of Banamine. It seems to relax him a bit and that is what he needs. He still hasn't consumed an entire meal. He is totally disinterested in his favorite treat--root beer barrels--however did take a few carrots from me.

Perhaps he is worried about his dental hygiene?

So it leads me to wonder, while I look at my huffing and puffing horse-- when IS enough enough? Will I be able to make a decision? Can he just make it for himself?? Maybe he is-- Curse this part. Curse it to hell.

I am going out to check on him for the 12th or 13th time today. He is sick of me, but too bad. I have to keep on validating my decisions. Keep asking God to see him through my eyes and help me to do what is right. To have Parlay look at me and try to get whatever vibes I can from him to do whatever it is that he needs.

When IS enough enough??