I got word from Rose's new owner that she'll be transporting her on Monday. I am glad for her that she was able to make arrangements so quickly, however I wasn't quite (emotionally) prepared for Rose to leave that soon as I thought I would have about two weeks left to scratch that nose and stroke her neck.
Clearly it is starting to sink in that she's going to be leaving. I am really going to miss her. We had quite the journey the two of us, and she has blossomed into this amazing horse. Somewhere along the line we became a team, and although there will always be "another horse", I have a great fear that I will never find another horse (that I can afford) who is as talented and special as Rose. I've been trying not to think about that. After all, it's a bit late at this point. No sense in thinking those thoughts. But still, they are there. I've never been in the position before where I've had to sell a horse for no other reason than I just didn't have time for it. In the past there has always been a reason. For instance a big move, grad school, or another horse even. When Rose leaves there won't be any "reason" or "thing" to fill that empty void. It's odd, really odd, and no matter how much I tell myself that I'm going to really enjoy jogging in the mornings with the baby and my awesome new stroller I know that it is a big fat lie. It just is.
Tonight I went out to the barn to groom Rose and spend some quality time with her. I also decided to start packing up the remainder of her feed and supplements, my gear in the tack room, and what miscellaneous items were strewn throughout the barn and arena. Surprisingly, I didn't really have all that much to pack up. I decided to leave my saddle and bridle out in case I have time for one last ride, but everything else got stowed in my trunk or trailer. Now all that is left to do is to drive out there with the truck this weekend and pick up the trunk and trailer. Even though I'm usually at the barn alone in the evenings, tonight for some reason I felt very lonely as I turned of the lights and walked out the barn door toward a beautiful bright red forest fire enhanced sunset. I tried to focus on the surreal beauty of that twisted sunset rather than my sudden sense of loss. It worked briefly.
Happy trails and swooshing tails!