Real Love

My parents are pretty much the best. I think I’ve mentioned things along these lines a few times, but it’s true.
See, most people my age, if they had a pony as a child, have no idea what ended up happening to their pony. It was sold when they lost interest/outgrew it/went to school/left the country. My pony on the other hand, came to the point where I’m not sure if she would have been sold even if I decided I wanted to sell her. My Mom actually told me once that even if I decided I wasn’t interested in keeping Gram, they would care for her until her dying day, because she deserved it.
And she did. Well, both shes did. Gram definitely deserved it. I don’t know how many amazing hours I spent with that mare (of course, there were plenty of irritated hours as well :~), how many poems and stories I composed while on her back, how many tears I cried into her mane, how many times I poured my heart out to her about a million different things, good and bad. And Mom took care of Gram like she said she would. Well, she and Dad did. Until her dying day. Which came way too soon, even for a pony in her 40s (we have no way of knowing her actual age).
Multiple feedings a day so she wouldn’t choke, having the vet out when she did choke, taking care to have her out with the others, but not so much that she’d eat enough grass and hay to choke. It has been a big task to take care of Gram these past few years. I did it when I was home, but there have been a lot of times that I’ve not been home, and I’ve always took comfort in the fact that Gram was in good hands, getting wonderful care. And at least during the summer, Mom would even go out sometimes to give Gram a hug from me.

I just received an email telling me that Gram died a few days ago. Normally I would be annoyed that such a thing was not told to me immediately, but I understand the hesitation and the desire to say it at the right time.

I read the email, and before I finished, I was crying (fortunately had already moved to another room, away from other people…) and shaking. A little bit of shock going on there, even though I’ve “prepared” myself for her death about 20 times over the last few years. Part of the email though, spoke of my parents sitting with Gram, petting her and crying over her as she was put to sleep. And they made the choice to have her put down only when it was absolutely the only option available. Lots of parents stuck with caring for a special needs pony would have had her put down a long time ago, instead of helping her to pull through each time. I know for sure that there wasn’t a way this time for her to pull through, because there’s no way she would be dead if there was another choice. My Dad told me that he doesn’t think he’s ever cried more over any pet than he did over Gram. Of course, part of that was because he knew how I’d react.
The basic point of this is that, though I am devastated/heartbroken/insert proper term here, I am thankful that she wasn’t alone when she came to the end. And even though I couldn’t be with her, I’m glad that she had people there who truly cared about her, and I’d even say people who genuinely loved her.