What grates at me is when I think about the small area in Lupine’s mouth that will determine the life of her whole body. I went through this with my horse when a stupid woman who used to be a playboy bunny was caring for Rocky in her pasture up in Colorado. This cowgirl dufus paired her untrained, and mean spirited horse by my horse when I was gone one afternoon and his leg was caught in the fence as her horse started a tussle. I think Rocky might have been protecting Gunner the other horse.
This woman did not have the guts to tell me my horse was down and so the infection traveled in such a way during that important time we needed so that my horse would not survive no matter what I did. I saw this gorgeous red furred being slowly fall after the shot we gave him at sundown and they cut me some of his mane.
I dreamt one night when we were back in New Mexico that he was free and running across the field and woke up with a flashlight, and walked during the night to see the remaining prints embossed in the dry mud down by the river.
I feel that Lupine is Rocky in dog form. The same reddish fur and sleek running ability, and how she lifts her nose in the wind as her eyes sparkle with the smell. I think of her mouth and this small thing that has gone wild inside of her being that will make it hard for the rest of her dynamic body to continue life because of this small part that is a big thing. I hate it.