In Defense Of My Lady Tahoe's Honor

                                 





                                      In Defense of My Lady Tahoe’s Honor

                                              Albert Bianchine

 

      I am a dying mare, well before my time. I feel the prick of the Veterinarian’s Euthanasia needle in my neck and the rush of the drugs as they course through my body, and my knees buckle and I fall helplessly to the good earth, for the very last time. The earth whose soft motherly comfort that I haven’t lain on for over a full year for fear I could no longer get up. I take a breath, a deep rattling last breath. The light begins to flicker in my eyes and with the remnant of my soul leaving my body, I think of my final days at the rescue ranch. I feel the touch of this big warm wonderful man’s hands as he caresses my chestnut face in the twilight of my setting sun. I stare into his eyes and our lights connect for the very last time. I will always remember and cherish the gentle touch of these hands, the hands of god, that caressed me with a kindness and thoughtfulness and love I’ve never known. The hands that massaged my prematurely aging and aching body and eased my burdens and gave me strength to endure the sufferings of being ridden to, and starved to near death. Then having to endure the pain and humility of the auction barns and being tossed aside without even a name. These hands, the hands that raised me up, when I collapsed at the closing of the auction gates the hands that wiped away my bloody noses, and massaged off my dead decaying skin and brought life, dignity, and vitality back to me, even if only for a short while to my prematurely dying soul. I look back over the past year and this man and his loving warm hands as the most wonderful days of my life. There were times when I felt like a young filly again and proudly pranced the fields for him. If I could only have spent many more years in he and his wife’s care and known and felt the touch of their massage students again, again and again. I leave my body now to this man and his hands and his mind that summoned the Veterinarian for this last act of kindness and compassion. I glance deep into his eyes and as the light flickers from my being, I plead. Let not my death be in vain! Please! Don’t ever let them take these hands from my brothers and sisters.

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