I am still waiting on feedback on my Ph.D. and this endless waiting for feedback is disheartening, to say the least. It makes me rethink my work, and I want to write further, however, I am on strict instructions not to change anything. So, I’m wandering through my work and fixing up references, getting it ready to put through the plagiarism tool on the University website. This will be an interesting procedure, kind of exciting to see if it passes. As Christmas approaches at a pace faster than I can ever remember, I am now working more than I have in the previous years. Physically working as opposed to writing and sitting for hours each day. I am of course exhausted by the time I reach the doors of home and flop down after eating food to sit for the rest of the night. Ready to return the next day bright and early…sort of.
This month was terrible for me, in that Bobby my pony became unwell with colic and try as I might with many vet visits I could not change the outcome. This to me was very distressing as I heard him drop to the earth so hard and so fast my mind couldn’t comprehend it. As I looked down at his still body his blue eyes were staring back and hard as I tried I could not close them. “I’m sorry,” said the young vet, as she whispered to me, “they don’t close.”
The saddest part was when the vet was telling me that I had to say “yes” before she could euthanize him. It was as if he was listening. He walked towards me, his head down, his eyes half closed and with those words of the vets somewhere in my head he slowly placed his head on my lap and closed his eyes. “Hurry up” the vet said, “you must tell me now, and where will we do it?”. She placed what seemed to be a huge bore needle into his neck and he stood still, very still.
I had no idea where I was to kill my pony, it’s not something that I had contemplated, ever. So, we walked slowly to a newly cleared spot, and he would walk no further.
“It’s okay,” he’ll be okay, here, if this is what he wants.”
She connected the needle to the syringe, and he fell, to the earth.
I still imagine that I see him running up to meet me when I come home but the paddock stays empty. I miss his playful self.