You’re back. I’m glad to see you. Yes you, not your pockets.
I’m sorry I was away. I’m sorry I have not had much time for you.
I don’t understand you. I only speak in positives.
Oh. That’s ok then. I will just take this moment to wait with you…..and this moment, and this and this.
I just need to yawn – lots. I can release some tension now that you are here.
How is Rosie?
I can mind Rosie. You need to mind me.
But I also need to mind Rosie. She had a flare up of laminitis recently. She, quite suddenly, started to walk with great caution and very slowly. I could feel no heat in her hooves and she was still eating well so I was not quite sure what the problem was. The vet said it was laminitis and pointed to her walk – flicking her legs forward with each step so that she could take the pressure off the toes. I have no idea how she got it. Was it some frozen grass? The vet did not think so. He said that she has a low level of laminitis at all times and therefore is vulnerable to flare ups.
I steeled myself to have a quite horrible conversation with him. Was Rosie all right? Did I have to consider the unthinkable? He said that I definitely would at some stage but that he did not consider that her time had yet come. He thought that, laminitis apart, she was looking well and in good condition.
She is on a course of anti-inflammatories and is getting some spark back in her eye and is moving better although not as well as I would like.
Rosie does not talk to me as Ben does. She communicates through a silence that seems as deep and as old as the limestone beneath us.