Snow on the mountain and rain all day.
First the bees and then the rain.
I go check the bees and only one flies out and immediately flies back inside. I imagine her tell the others it is only me with the dogs in the grey pouring rain.
On Thursday, we visited my horse at the clinic in Osoppo. I have owned her since she was six months old, she is now 13. Only on Thursday did I realize she answers to the name, Rose. One man is explaining that my horse's name is Mary Rose and my name is Rosemary. Everyone laughs and one says, "so I call her Rose."
Later, while my horse is waiting in a stable for yet another echogram I call her, "Rose". She has her back to me, drowsy on her feet. Suddenly she swings towards me with that expression that makes me think she is smiling. Or, is she laughing that it has taken me this long to learn her name?
Twins? Horrors!!
When I have a new animal friend I call different names until they respond to one. OK, so they come anyway after they have figured out that the noise I am making and the treat I am waiting to give them must mean "Come here".
However, as with a few of my horse-loving friends, the horse's name was not important. It is more our relationship with that horse, which is mainly wordless. This is what is most important. But finding that my horse answers to Rose, feels like a gift.
Why two echograms? During the first, the vet shows me the two dark globes, the embryos; bad news. They seem to be attached; more bad news. We wait, they move apart; better news. One has to be eliminated; bad news. We could wait to see if one is eliminated naturally; good news. But maybe when they move around they will attach and ... bad news.
So the second echogram was to see if the embryos had moved apart and if one could be easily eliminated. My horse is patient, the best, I am told. I stand with my head close to hers. I try to explain what we are doing, silently. No need, she doesn't want to know. Someone is giving her a hard treat to nibble on.
Last night I received another message from the vet. "Only one embryo". Relief, we are still pregnant.
Big Bear tells me all the tension went out of me when I received that message. Maybe he does not know how tense I can be while my horse is pregnant. I was not aware of this myself until I saw Rose's first and second foal standing beside her in the field. That strange unease drifted away and I understood that I had been hopelessly worried about my horse for a whole year.
Maybe this time will be different, this is Rose's third foal, or should I say ... our third.
No comments:
Post a Comment