Thursday, June 19, 2014

06/17/14

Chase is dead, but leaning against the side of the stall. Had he stiffened there? Rigor mortis? Was he dead? Was I too late? The prospect of him being alive and needing intervention that only I was there to give but was completely unable to give was more terrifying than the prospect of me having to tell Rhonda that he was dead. I walk up to him and put my hand in front of his nostrils to make sure he is not breathing. He jolts upright suddenly and changes from a white Arabian into a leopard Appaloosa and begins wildly careening around the stall, and I am swept up onto his back with my hands knotting into his mane and I am stuck and unable to leave as I am feeling my bones breaking as he slams into walls and throws himself into the air screaming in pain. I am yelling at him to stop, stop hurting himself like this, and screaming for Rhonda or Bettina or Tim or someone to come and help but they are all suddenly in front of the stall watching sadly and telling me that there is nothing they can do--I just need to stay with him. They leave and I am stuck on Chase's back as he howls in a way I never want to hear from a horse again and bolts around the stall and I am sobbing on him begging him to stop but irrevocably tangled into him and unable to do anything but scream and scream and scream with him until he dies.

Awaken.

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