My loveley old friend Pele had to be pts on wednesday.
I took care of him every monday and friday for 5 1/2 great years.
We grew to be real friends, I learned SO much from him and we had so much fun together.
What helps accepting the fact that I’ll have lots of spare time now and never hear his low “oh look, there’s my food coming!”-nicker again is that I’m 100% convinced that putting him to sleep was the right decision: the tumor that caused his cushing’s syndrome had grown so big that it started to press on more parts of his brain. Pele had two attacks, tia-like, last week. Was in lots of pain, dizzy, lay down, no interest at all in his otherwise beloved food.
The vet was clear about it: if we wanted to save Pele from having to go through more - and heavier - attacks of this kind, we had to have him pts as soon as possible.
And so it came that my visit to him on monday suddenly became my last one.
He was lively, full of energy and we had a lovely, sunny long reining-walk through the neighbourhood.
He spent his last days in the field, doing what he loves most: eating his beloved grass - my goodbye-carrotpieces were hardly appreciated, so happy was Pele to have grass all around him. And that’s the last picture of him that I took with me in my mind: a healthy (looking), happy horse immensely enjoying his grass in the spring sun.
I also heard that he went very peacefully, wednesday. His owner felt that he wanted to let her know “It’s perfectly allright like this!”.
Even if 25 is a very good age for a big warmblood - having to go on without him came much too early!
I’m glad I have only happy memories, and so many of them.
But oh, how I’ll miss him!
RIP, dear Pele-friend!
