And what a winter it was. Standing here in April, looking back its amazing how bleak and ugly it really was. So many days, weeks, of -29 or colder, so much bloody bone chilling wind, so many struggles. Yeesh. Cleaning the barn today, struggling against a wind that didn't want me to open doors easily, or drag my stupid manure cart over the frozen dirt I thought back to my last post in the fall and had to laugh. Oh how naive I was! What seemed like a glorious and warm start to winter (hello riding outside in October in a hoody) turned into every Canadian horse girls nightmare of a winter.
Those goals I wrote about seem like a joke. Was I high? Didn't I feel it coming? Can't I tell by now, after so many Manitoba winters, when a dooms day level winter is coming? Alas it seems I can't. But I have to be honest. It wasn't just the weather that burst my optimistic little bubble. This winter was hard on a whole other level. Our first winter at this new place, with a half finished barn, we experienced set backs that are probably fairly normal, but still very disheartening. Our barn was colder then expected which led to ice in water buckets, doors that stuck and the hoses that froze. Then our well (that services the barn only) went dry, thanks to a dry fall and very little snow, and we had to switch to town water. My truck died. It was little things that added up.
But then tragedy struck. Right after Christmas my beloved Molly, my 6 1/2 year old Great Dane was diagnosed with a tumour in her leg. I had 2 weeks to say goodbye. She was more then a dog, she was my best friend (other then my husband) . Always calm, silly and ready to give me a cuddle, she was a bright spot to everyday. She was perfect. How do you say goodbye to that? How do you walk through 2 weeks of lasts? Last ice cream, last snuggles on the couch, last time of me singing 'You are My Sunshine' to her while she sleeps on my lap.....January feels like a black hole. I can't shake her presence, the calm happy feeling she gave me and I carried with me. Sometimes I swear if I could just look down quick enough, she would be there staring up at me, those big ears drooped back, her face smiling. Don't try and say she was just a dog. That doesn't fly here, move on. I connect with my animals, they are my family. Mourn with me or bugger off. I don't need the judgement or guilt.
I got a puppy, dreading the silence of the house, worried it would drop me in the same state of depression the loss of Royal did. And it has helped. Daisy is a lovely precious pup. But Molly left a hole in me that only time can slowly fill in.
And now as spring is slowly creeping over us and more change is on the horizon. Anja goes for surgery today to remove a very large tumour from her right ovary. Its presence explains so much, including her odd behaviour and her not getting pregnant last summer. The blood work the vet pulled 2 weeks ago was inconclusive, so we don't know what type of tumour it is or the prognosis, although the vet is very optimistic. (did he live through the same winter I did?) But its an expensive endeavour and my husband and I both slumped a little lower when we got the estimate. Do the surgery, we don't need food and heat. Whats a couple more thousand?
The biggest change is still in the works and I can't say too much about it. It may not happen. But sometimes you gotta shit or get off the pot. Why did I start this crazy horse thing anyway? What was the dream? Is time running out, or is this really the perfect timing? I'm trusting God and something he told me many years ago.
Dream Big. A normal life is boring.
