A few friends have asked after Mathilda & it occurs to me that I have not given a full patient report in a while. If you saw Mathilda for the first time now, you’d be horrified. She’s skinny. She stands oddly. However, if you had seen her four months ago, you’d think she looks stellar. She’s skinny, but no longer starvation skinny. She stands oddly, but confidently. Throughout, her eyes have been up, her ears have been bright, and carrots have disappeared at an alarming rate.
She’s ready to go out on her own, for brief spells at least, but we keep putting it off. The first time I let her go, she made a beeline to Rodney for a flirt. The second time, she dropped for a roll [Back Story Debriefing]. Therefore, having misjudged twice, we are overcompensating by going too slowly. Oh, one more week of hand walks & we’ll try next weekend. Our brief attempt to give her limited turn-out [Forward] was abandoned when she made it clear that the accessible grass was not acceptable.
Our anxiety window for her has moved from daily to weekly, or even monthly. Barring miraculous recovery (& a more restrained attitude toward Rodney), she will need heavy care for the rest of her days. But she will have more days. To quote the Hermit of the Southern March, “I do not know whether any man or woman or beast in the whole world will be alive when the sun sets tonight. But be of good hope. The damsel is likely to live as long as any of her age.”[quote source]
We still stress. I dread keeping her warm in this winter. I am perplexed about creating a divided but sustainable turn-out regimen. Eventually, we will need to reach a less invasive status quo. For now, she remains The Mare Who Ate My Summer.
Rodney continues to be himself. No matter how many horse shows he is not taking me to, I cannot stay annoyed with him. He’s too sweet-natured. Five minutes of fussing on him, and I’m back to thinking he is adorable. Useless, but adorable. And gorgeous. Useless, adorable & gorgeous.
Gratuitous Kitten Pics
Think one is a tight fit?