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Some Days

Some days I wish I'd never caught the bug, that I'd never been sucked into this world of broken hearts and broken bodies. I wish I'd never felt the rhythm of a 15-lb heart thudding beneath me in anticipation and excitement.

Some days I cry because I'm overwhelmed by how unfair it all seems; because I don't understand why one day, a year ago, my sweet, kind, gentle soul of a gelding suddenly began struggling to get up from his long, mid-day naps and was eventually unable to walk from field to paddock without the patient encouragement of a human being; why, after one wrong step, my firecracker of a thoroughbred mare is now unable to jump or gallop without fear of experiencing a final, career-ending injury.

Some days I don't understand what makes all of this heartbreak worth it, all of the money spent single-handedly funding veterinary diagnostic testing and MRIs and radiographs and drugs and vet checks and hefty farrier bills.

Some days I swear that this is the last horse I'll ever own. That I'll never go through the heartache of watching another one's limbs fail despite the rhythmic, urgent beating of their heart.

Some days I hate how much I love these animals and how much I hate wishing I could spend 24 hours a day, 365 days a week just smelling them, or stroking their silky muzzles. How I wish I could quit my unfulfilling job and chase my dreams and not rely on the steady source of income that allows me to sustain the insane feeling of flight; of oneness with a 1200-lb masterpiece of bone and flesh and spirit.

Most days, however, I find myself so feeling so completely grateful for the opportunities I've had to share my life with these incredible beings.

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