Thursday, 26 January 2012
Each New Day.
It has been approximately three weeks now since I found out about Hillary's eyes, and there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about it. I have lots of questions about her future that seem to hang over my head, and I feel incapable of helping her.
I am not angry so much (although sometimes I can be), rather I feel a sense of gratefulness that we have these moments together, and although I wish that I had never had my problems, and therefore missed out on so much time with her, I am very aware I can do nothing but try to make it right.
During the week, I went out on a hack with a few friends. This was my first hack on Hillary since finding out about the cataracts. Halina takes her out on hacks a lot and this balances the amount of work in the school that I do. At the moment, I am so grateful Hills can still hack out; to be restricted to just the menage seems very dull and boring. She may be able to hack out for many more years, but these issues are the things I think about every day at present, and they sometimes drive me mad.
I squashed myself into my body protector (a must now for hacking), and got on with some much needed help from Gaynor, as I couldn't move properly in it. We then set off up the track into the hills. Naturally, I was trying to see everything that could bring on a spook so that I could prepare for it, but the worst we came past was a large plastic sheet replacing a missing garage door. It made noises in a wind, and I could feel her tense up, but I rubbed her neck, and she walked on. She felt fresh and sprightly, and proceeded to overtake every other horse we were with, but I did not feel worried by her quick step and the fact I had to hold her back. Instead, I felt as though she was enjoying the ride; she seemed to be having fun.
When we arrived back at the yard, I felt so proud of her. I do not know what she can see, or how far, but I know that she tries her best to please. If I say 'go' she will do her best to trust me and follow as I say. I can't express in words the way that makes me feel, to have a relationship with this animal based upon trust and a desire to please.
Every day, I tell myself that my horse has cataracts; that she is medically incurable, and that she will never be the same again. I tell myself that her vision is lessened, and that the best we can hope for is that progression is slow. I am a person who needs something to look forward to and strive towards, and before this, it was growing a super relationship with Hills that allowed us to do new and exciting things. That vision, once clear and inviting, is now blurred and dark, and I cannot see through it. I have noting concrete to hold onto, and the only thing I have now is now; these moments, these memories, this feeling of adoration and admiration and the desire to do right by her, no matter what. Sometimes, it seems,no matter what we aim for and how hard we try, the best we can hope for is the grace to accept the unchangeable that comes our way.