Very sorry.
This is heartbreaking. I’m so very sorry for your loss. I just went through a similar ordeal with one of my dogs and I’m exhausted, sad, and a bit numb. I suspect you are too. My thoughts are with you.
I just discovered this, not sure how I missed it before. LH, I am in awe of the devotion and amount of ‘try’ you put into the attempt to help Bear recover. I am so sorry that he reached the end of his earthly span of time. He was so lucky to be yours. Cyber-hugs to you; you went way above and beyond. I am sure he knew how very much you loved him.
Wow, LH, you have had a really tough year!
Take care of you. Bear is in a better place.
I’m so sorry for your loss, LH. We had been checking in on you and your Bear each day. You gave him every ounce of try that you possibly could. 
I am very sorry for your journey, you did the very best for Bear at all levels.
Well, darn.((((((((HHHUUUGGGSSS))))))))
Well done, Mom.
So very sorry for your loss.
You fought the good fight and in the end took his pain away and made it your own. Godspeed.
Sending hugs and kind thoughts to you, Lord Helpus.
You can be assured that you did your best. Sometimes that is the only solace we are given.
Hang in there.
Bear, gone on ahead. So very sorry for your loss. You surely did your all for him and hope you will find some comfort in this knowledge.
I am so sorry to hear this.
But you did the right thing. You knew when “enough” was “enough”.
My deepest sympathy.
I am so very sorry.
I’m so sorry for your loss… I, too, was hopeful… RIP, Bear…
Sometimes no matter what we do, we can’t make it better. We just have to know that we did all we could, and let go. It hurts. I am so sorry for you, but be kind to yourself - you did all you could do. Hugs from VA.
Darn it! I was so hoping for a positive update. Hugs to you, LH and godspeed, Bear. My Calvin is there, ready to say hello to a fellow chestnut gentleman.
I am crying as I write this, thinking of horses I have had to lay to rest, and thinking of Bear and the emotional roller coaster you have been on-it’s hell, I know. You are a superb horse person, and listened to your Bear’s needs. Huge hug and know I (well, we, your COTH family), are thinking of you during this time. You listened to your horse and gave him every chance you could. You did your best, and he did his. When it’s time, you know, and we all applaud your savvy and wisdom throughout this ordeal. HUG:sadsmile:
Thank you for all the kind thoughts. I was a wreck yesterday, but (finally) slept through the night last night and woke up this morning sad, but happy.
There were no miracles for Bear at his age, despite what the surgeon and vet wanted me to believe. I feel like I let them down by not giving them the opportunity to try every last trick in their bags. But I did not let Bear down, and he was my priority.
God, that sounds pompous. Didn’t mean it to be. Meant to say that I had to stop listening to them and listen to Bear.
On Monday I will actually pick up the phone when the surgeon calls again. 
Thank you all. You have no idea how much your support and help meant to me throughout these last 4 weeks. So many times the Internet (and COTH) threads can be judgmental – but this one was nothing but positive and it was reassuing that I was not going through this alone.
One final thing I am taking away from Bear’s situation (for lack of a better word) is that, especially with an older horse, I should have stepped back, right at the beginning and considered all the possible outcomes of moving forward with the surgery.
Bear broke his jaw on Tuesday. My 2 local vets saw him on Wed and he went to NC State on Thursday. Throughout this whole time, he was upbeat, and eating (gruel, but he was still excited about his food).
After an exam, the surgeon thought he could be managed without surgery.
At that point, Bear was still fine and happy (if you don’t count the broken jaw).
The next day, Friday, the surgeon called and said that he was standing at the back of his stall, not responding, and was hardly eating. She thought he needed surgery and, since it was Friday, the operation might as well be done right away.
I agreed. But THIS was when I should have stepped back and asked myself questions: why was he happy and eating for 3 days, then after 1 night in the hospital, could his condition have changde so drastically? If nothing physical had changed, did we really need to rush to surgery just because it was Friday? What would his convalescence mean to him – how much pain could be expected as a direct result of the surgery? If he was going to need pain meds for that pain, could the same amount of pain meds get him through the next week if he did not have surgery?
Hindsight is easy. And I might still have agreed to the operation even if I had asked these questions. But, the point was – I did not step back and really consider all the pros and cons.
No, I am not beating myself up for the decisions I made. But I am trying to learn from them. The big red flag should have been his attitude change when the only thing that had changed was his being in a windowless stall at a hospital instead of his own stall and field at home.
This is what I have heard called “a teachable moment” and what I have learned from it is that one of the worst reasons to go to surgery (if a horse is stable) is “because it is Friday”.
Anyway. – I wanted to pass my thoughts along, one last time, just in case others can benefit from my knee jerk reaction v. a considered, thoughtful, ‘big picture’ reaction.
RIP Mister Bear.
I know I learned something from this experience, if that’s any consolation. I also have 2 retirees at home and hadn’t ever thought through the right avenue if something non-colic, serious but not immediately life-threatening happened. Now I have.
Hindsight is always 20/20, and you always acted with Bear as the top priority.
Again, I am so sorry LH.
