Life Sucks then we go on

Last Thursday Howie and I went to Grand Valley to visit the little shit yet to be named. It was kind of a shitty day if I recall; kind of cold and damp; everyone wanted to hibernate. I headed straight for the gate but couldn't slip the metal link off its T that anchors it. So Howie let me in; I saw Momma off with her foal; the Little Shit Yet to be Named, with his identical large white blaze looking at us with suspicion. Howie rattled the plastic box containing his stash of peppermints. A caffluffle occurred behind me. I think Howie said Watch Out! And I was lying face down in the dirt. I felt the powerful momentum and I was pitched forward. I lay there trying to breathe. It was the grey mare, not mama. She had pitched both back feet at me but instead her massive hip knocked me into the air and onto my left shoulder. I drug myself standing, tried to escape from the paddock, informed Howie to keep that grey cunt away from me. I tried to breathe; rapid respirations turning to slower deliberate ones. At Grove Hospital in Fergus, the nurses viewed me with suspicion. I begged someone to help me get my blue jeans down so I could pee as I hadn't peed since early morning. A nurse helped me and when I thanked her she literally ran to the washstand as if she had touched something really disgusting. An hour and a couple of x-rays later; I am in a sling with a broken humeral neck. No more farms were to be visited; my brother drove and we beat it back to Toronto so I could begin my new life as a handicapped /veterinarian. Now I live on Tylenol 3s, ibuprophen and tylenol. The last two I take morning and night but the T3s I take at bedtime relishing the oblivion and painlessness it affords. Especially the oblivion. Today we have come to the conclusion that we will euthanize the 2 older geldings this week; Juicey and Fish, 2 horses I have loved well and long. Fish is getting on and is deeply attached to his pal Juicey and Juicey has Whiteline Disease which has now spread apparently to a back foot among other physical problems. rather than jettison them to an uncaring and harsh world I figure death is preferable. Flawed logic I am not proud of. A week filled with pressure and stress and drama. I have yet to report the car accident in which a yahoo cowboy from Alberta allowed the horse he was riding to posture its butt on my rear passenger door denting it badly a mere 3 weeks after that whole side was just fixed. And now with my broken arm I am trying to keep everything just as it was as the new racing season begins. Entry day is Thursday, the day planned for euthanizing our 2 dear friends. If I won a lottery tommorrow, I would not be writing this, typing badly with one hand, I would save them forever. But more later.