The Bargains We Make

Photo copyright Wings, 2015; all rights reserved.

When times are good, and you take on an animal family member, you make a bargain with it: "Come with me. I'll take care of you." You're not thinking about what happens if the bottoms drops out of everything. You're also not thinking about what happens when the animal develops a debilitating (but not fatal) disease. The animal certainly isn't, on either count.

And so when you lose everything material, it doesn't matter. The animals are still part of the family, and they still need you to keep up your end of the bargain. Hell, it doesn't even matter if they just magically materialize in your life after everything's already gone to hell. We've been there with both of the boys, but what were we supposed to do? Let them die horrible, slow, agonizingly painful deaths?

I don't think so.

And so we juggle and squeeze and scrimp and cadge, trying to make everything all work out, just one more time. 

It's getting harder for me right now. 

I admit it. I'm . . . well, okay, I'm not going to say, "I'm sick," because that sounds horrible and defeatist and simply revolting to me and I don't give a shit how true it might be, I'm not going to identify that way. But these new health problems, stacked now on top of my old ones, are kicking my ass. Hard.  

I feel like I'm about to faint pretty much all the time right now. I gather that it will be that way until we manage to get both RBC count and BG stabilized, but so far, there's no indication when that might be. And the treatment is almost worse than the disease; I literally feel sick all the time. I hate it. I mean, I'm used to being in pain all the time. ALL the fucking time, all over my body. I can deal with that. Not happily, but I've learned how to do it.

This? Fuck this.

But we made a bargain, a long time ago.

And so I've just come in from helping hold the girls, the ones in the photo, so Wings could work on their hooves. This time of year is so destructive for their condition, and however crappy I feel, it's nothing compared to what we're having to ameliorate for these two. And so, I came inside, juggled a bit more, and a bit more precariously, bit the bullet, and ordered the hoof pack they desperately need. It's not a lot of money, but it's a far bigger hit than we can comfortably take right now. Things are going to be really slim for a while again.

So, two things: 

1) These girls need whatever good energy they can get. Spring is murder on laminitic horses anyway, and with what our weather's been like this year? The kind of pain it inflicts on them is indescribable. So, whatever ya got — thoughts, wishes, vibes, prayers, whatever — Cree and Shade need 'em.

2) We need to make some sales, preferably steadily. They don't need to be huge ones; a modest sale a week covers most eventualities. Unfortunately, the tourist trade doesn't provide even that little anymore. So, y'all know the drill: Shares of Wings's site, far and wide, with anyone you might know who might potentially be interested in indigenous art. It's high-end stuff, good quality both materially and artistically. And Wings has got some truly spectacular pieces in inventory. [Also, too, I've got some really good, informative writing, if I do say so myself, at his blog.]

Because these girls are gonna need us to keep up our end of the bargain for some time yet. And fainting or not, I'll put in all the labor, and all the care, but they need more than what I can give them right now.

Thanks.

 

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.