Today I carried a dead foal from birth to it’s grave. I held it with it’s front legs over one of my shoulders while cradling it in both arms. If it’s one thing that makes me feel deep sadness, it is such things like this. A feeling I didn’t knew I could express. I have such an attachment to horses, their beauty and so many other things. I did not cry, but I cried hard on the inside because the pain is somewhat familiar to me.
I pictured this foal alive and well when I first saw it, I tricked my mind into thinking it was okay at first, then I knew after a few moments that reality had won.
To hug a dead foal in my arms, to feel it’s slight warmth and that it could have possibly made it and lived, really gave me somewhat of a relief that I do have honest emotion and can feel sadness for other beings other than myself. That I’m actually alive and these things do happen. I never thought I would feel anything and I’ve seen a lot of death, but when it comes to horses, I cannot harden myself to feel nothing to it. I love them too much and I proved it to myself.
To put this foal into a hole knowing I have no power or knowledge of anything prior to a tragedy to prevent it makes me completely worthless, but it unlocks a feeling and emotion and a sort of gratitude of being alive. Not because I’m afraid, but because I know, as a living being, I’ll die too.