Friday, November 8, 2013

Dark Light.

I had to shake all the pretty red leaves out of my library books today before I returned them.  It was a sweet moment.  I later wondered... should I have left them in?  

Squirrel and I hurtled briskly* around BC twice in the afternoon. The omni-contorted ducks didn't seem to notice the ominous light.  So great to have proper company.  We had some great ocean loop runs over the summer but our schedules have morphed into slightly less compatible geometries, so we actually haven't run as much together lately.

The broken parts were inexplicably very sore today but running didn't necessarily make it worse.  Waiting and waiting and waiting for paperwork at this point.  A fantastic exercise for my patience muscles.  They are going to be hella mighty!  As soon as paperwork happens, another surge of possible progress will be pursued.

Meanwhile, fuck everything, I'm running at Pineland tomorrow with the Trail Monsters, and I can't wait!

* Everything is relative.

Colin wrote a great report of the NYC Marathon -- check out Sea Level Runner.

Zoe the horse was euthanized this morning.  She was only about 12.  Zoe had a beautiful blazed face, curved like that of an Arabian, and a bay coat of wild thick curls.  Her personality was that of a horse who's been largely ignored.  Friendly and interested but a little shy and standoffish.

Like everyone else in her life, I didn't spend much time with her.  (She wasn't mine; she came to live on the farm with my horse's herd last spring.)  I am certain no one else ever had done so either.

She was intermittently, often, three-legged lame on her right foreleg and the rescue group didn't want to, or wasn't able to, pay for extensive testing and/or treatment.  They did enough testing to show that it was not a simple problem.  It was agreed that euthanasia was the correct option.

Even if she had been sound, this is a classic case of overbreeding.  She was a horse that some thoughtless idiot bred for absolutely no good reason, someone without the foresight to understand that you can't just make more horses without having plans for their care and their future.  This is inexcusable because they don't just magically get trained and find homes.  Doesn't happen.  

Rest in peace, Zoe.  Your story is sadly not unique.  It's sadder still to think that you were one of the lucky ones.  I am glad you got to spend your final weeks in a paddock with Shen.  We should all be so lucky.

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