My poor baby

I thought I could do this.

It's been about five hours, and I thought I had enough strength. I told myself I wouldn't break down again.


Most people know that I have, for as long as I can remember, leased a beautiful mare called Tinkerbell. Miss Tinkerbell. My baby who always greeted me with a whinny and a smile when I walked up to her stall five days a week.

Well, the owner decided to sell her Saturday. I know what you're thinking. Oh, she's fine, she just has a new owner. No. Her owner lost the buyer's number, she didn't come out and the owner decided not to sell her. I was so happy. It meant I could stay with my Tink.

Wrong.


Her owner took her across the street to graze in the yard of the church that lets us. The yard next to the stream. With ducks that fight, very loudly. Next to a very busy street. My baby got spooked. She ran in front of a car. I wasn't even there for her last few moments. She broke her leg and got various deep wounds. She had enough strength to be led back to her back to the barn, then she passed out. She was unconscious when the vet arrived. With the euthanasia.