Farewell, Sweet Cappy
The beauty of the sky Wednesday seemed a mockery of Cappy's relapse. Misty pastel hues a backdrop to his staggering back legs, pain accentuated by the awe of Mother Nature's handiwork. I raced into this awful beauty as I drove west to the vet's office to pick up a new round of steroids for Cappy, taking note of the irony. I was worried, but glad that I'd caught the change quickly, and grateful for my vet who made a special Christmas Eve morning drop so I could get my beloved Mustang dosed and back on track. I couldn't imagine what could have happened on Christmas otherwise. But, it happened anyway. As soon as it was light Christmas morning, I headed out for chores, eager to see Cappy's progress, his second dose of steroids hidden inside his favorite German cookie treat. Cappy was lying near the south side of the horse barn. I was relieved, thinking he'd finally been able to rest, until he tried unsuccessfully to stand. His fronts pushed his body up, so he wa...