4 months ago, I put George down. I feel like I killed him 4 months ago. Every night since then, I have been plagued by guilt-laden dreams of killing him. Sometimes they start out happy. He is galloping around in a green pasture, pain-free. But in the end, he always has to die, and it's usually my fault. I have to kill him. And it always seems unjust. I kill him because he's indispensable, and there are other George's, or becuase even though he's fine now, he will die eventually anyway so I rob him of life.
I had one dream that I can remember where he was happy and whole throughout the whole thing. Sometimes in my dreams, I'm looking back in retrospect, and I realize if I had only taken him home with me and kept him in the house, he would have been okay. In my dreams, it seems like killing him was a huge mistake, and a veil has been lifted from my eyes, and all of a sudden I can clearly see my mistake. I feel stupid for not having realized it all along.
In reality, I don't know what to think. I have this dreaded guilt buried in the pit of my stomach, and I don't know how to get rid of it. I just want to hear him neigh for me one more time. I just want to rub his soft velvety nose again and let him lick my hand. I want to stroke his ears and stratch the itchy place on his neck one more time. I just want to know that I did the right thing, and that he is in a better place now. I wish he could communicate with me. I guess I'm asking for too much.
My horses are all gone now. My George is gone. A piece of me is missing. And I'm moving on. Quickly. And there's nothing I can do about it but accept it. Without horses, I am not myself. What happens when you die? George was a such a special soul.