The Human Question

Which is part of what is keeping me up at night, now. I've felt concern and empathy for this woman, and I still do. If I show it, I'm right back to square one, and then I'm still miserable. I don't feel very nice about all this, ya know? I mean, even when we had that mini-micro-feltBiGenough2me storm-burst that ripped some trees down close to her cabin, I was glad she wasn't hit by a tree. I do feel compassion for this woman. But, when you do extend it, the crazy train starts all over again. But. sigh. Is she to be my cross to bear? I feel like, I dunno. Nuts, I guess.
I am hyper-thyroid, which flares my dramatic words, aPparently. I am seemingly unendingly mental-pausal, and it seems like all the men I know in my life think I'm nuts/jumpy, yet I feel clearer on things than ever.

I wrestle with this, too.
Is Apalachian Chief just a horse, that fell upon bad times, or did he end up somewhere he should NoT be allowed to remain?

Am I just that chick who has called the OSPCA too many times? Truth be told, Madame Prescience Dena herself, called me out on that, back in the beginning of this whole weirdness that is horse fictuals, I mean factuals.

For sure, that horse I whined about at Jane and Kirby had a freakin' paradise, compared to the latest version of horse care I'm witnessing. So I have called maybe when I shouldn't have, maybe three times, in my life. The other times were things like "Uh, there's a horse on the side of the road", or "feral dog sighting". But maybe I have a record as an hysteric. aPparently.

The OSPCA seems to conveniently forget her black dog. I guess with the rapid turnover of shelter employees lately... I asked if they still had records on the cruelty case against crazy farmer from 30 years ago. They never did reply. Freedom of information, or what? Not at the OSPCA. They are busy.

I did annoy MB when the white dog would run away from her, and find me out on Flip walks.
I didn't report to the OSPCA on the white dog, I was trying to get along. Turned out, I didn't have to. The White Dog didn't make it to her second birthday..

RIP, wee White Dog. My heart sank to my boots when I met her as a puppy. I finally met her mama, when I found the mare, Chief's (shudder) future wife, up t'road. Kind old couple had given MB an ooops puppy. I told MamaDog I was sorry. White Dog was a Toy Eskimo/Jack Russell cross, tough and brave and hilarious. And so, so sad. Not enough coat for our winters. I gave MB a bed with cushions for the pup, she never did use them. I think she sold them.

Of course, white dog was left out in the uninsulated addition. Didn't need to tie her out, though. I asked MB's permission to let puppy out when I was home, and MB agreed. "Little rat", she called her, and laughed as she told me about the time when the puppy slipped off the table and started hanging herself by her collar from a chair. Uh, huh.

After awhile, MB forgot our agreement, and started complaining to the vet in town about me, my own vet for the girls. "How do I stop my neighbour from letting my dog loose?" she asked.
Vet told me, and as white dog had started showing pretty sad/bad behaviours (Running towards vehicles, more aggression as she was so hungry and lonely), and I had a young herding puppy Blaze, I stopped all contact with the white dog. Two weeks later, she was dead.

Chief doesn't look "that" bad, now. He's fuzzying up. His kind eyes still shine faintly of hope. Horses with honour do not ask for care loudly. They know that when they are caged, they remain. Patient.
Chief had no water all day. I hope she remembered to water him when she got home.

I hope I can sleep tonight.