It couldn't walk, it's bones apparently grew in crookedly, it might have had a bit of brain damage, though that was never confirmed. It would have had a hard life, I'm sure, and it would have struggled through a lot of things, but who were you to decide that it would rather be dead? Who were you to decide that it didn't want to give this thing called life a try? It died before it had so much as a name.

I realize there are reasons for doing such things and I realize that it was hard for you to make the decision because these horses mean a lot to you, but I don't think you grasp the concept of life in general fully. It hadn't tasted grass, it hadn't seen the pale blue sky that seems more gray than anything else right now. It hadn't even been out of that little stall and you killed it. It bothers you now but you'll forget in time and it will be just another casualty of 'bad luck' or 'the way things are', right? Well, you could have done more than you did, and for that reason I'll cry myself to sleep tonight thinking of the way it lifted its head to look at me, and tried so desperately to stand up, a plaintive look in its eyes. It didn't want to give up, but you did, and somehow you felt that you had the right to make that choice for it.

You did what you felt you had to, this doesn't seem right, so just don't expect me to understand.

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