I'd almost be willing to bet that the culprit is the potting mix. Weak, dehydrated roots are much more likely to lead to a rotting plant than a healthy root system. What kind of soil mix are you using?

The metta is said after one meditates for an hour. You sit quietly and calmly and relax after you have meditated and then you say it. Read the link I attached. It gives a good explanation and there are of course more links to other articles about metta. I am so glad you are interested. c

This is an old post, but found it and wanted to share two things that happened to me. Sorry, this is long. I had a friend and neighbor for 30 years, but I had moved 20 miles away. We kept in touch, but I hadn't heard from him for awhile, or contacted him, so called one day, and his phone had been disconnected. He was in his 60's at the time and not the best health. I thought he had died, and no one had told me. So I went to see about him. I knocked on his door and he came to the door, and he looked terrible. Always was a slim build, but he looked like he had lost more weight, and he had a long beard...whereas he had used to always be clean shaven. To make a long story short, he was very depressed. I had been just about his only contact, being very much a loner. He hadn't picked up his mail or paid any bills...so phone was cut off. He wasn't even aware of it. He had no edible food in his house....a couple of moldy burritos in his fridge, and wine bottles stacked like cordwood in all the cabinets. I picked up his mail, got him to write checks to pay his bills, bought groceries for him....and wine and cigarettes, since that was what he mainly existed on, and by going to to the liquor store for him, it kept him from driving. I straightened up his house and did his laundry. I promised I would look after him until he died. He had been diagnosed with emphysema years prior, and his family doctor had chastised him for smoking. He had said he would quit...even bought some nicotine patches, but never used them. He didn't quit smoking and he never went back to the doctor. How long could he possibly last? A few weeks? A couple of months? He lived 8 years!! Every day I went to see him, and brought food for him...which he seldom ate, I didn't try to make him do anything, but every day I asked him if he wanted to go to the doctor or did he want me to contact his family. He always said no. I think he lived so long because I am very healthy, and I haven't been sick in years, and he never left his house the last four years of his life. I took care of everything for him...his yard, house, even getting someone to come in and cut his hair. Once in a blue moon, he would shave. I was there every day, sometimes twice a day, and a couple of times, 4 times. I slept on his floor a couple of times when I thought death was near. Remember...it was a 40 mile round trip to where I lived. I furnished him with books and magazines and movies to watch. Got him interested in talk radio to give him a little diversion. In other words, I did everything I could to make him happy. He was a very intelligent man and a voracious reader. We had many long talks over the years. We both knew he didn't have long to live. I asked him if he would contact me if he could, after he passed. He didn't believe in an afterlife and told me so. Still, every so often, I would ask him again. I think to shut me up, he finally agreed. Still, I would sometimes remind him. I was with him when he died. He went quickly when his time came. I went in the kitche to get him a Gatorade, which he had said he wanted, and came back...two short breaths and he was gone. After he died, I dreamed about him several times. In one dream he was taIking to me on the phone, and he asked me why I didn't come see him any more. I hated to tell him that he had died, and the niece he didn't like was living in his house. But, I did tell him, and he said, so incredulous...like he had never considered it. "Are you sure about that?" It was exactly like something he would say if we were having a conversation before he passed. For several weeks, I didn't dream about him any more, and then I had a dream and he told me he had something to tell me....but before I found out what it was, I woke up. I tried to go back to sleep, hoping to finish the dream, but I couldn't. I finally got up and when I walked around the foot of the bed, there was the letter K (his name was Ken). It was made out of dozens of little drops of water. I was home alone. My husband was away at work for two weeks. No water in the room. No pets. Completely alone. I can't even say I was shocked. I knew it was Ken. I knew he would contact me if he could. I started to not even take a picture of it. He was a very private person, and he wouldn't have liked that I took a picture and showed it to anyone, but I did, and sadly I lost it when I lost my phone. So you will have to take my word for it, and of course, you don't know me, but it is the truth. So here is the second one: My husband had a terminal illness. He had asbestosis and pulmonary fibrosis. We lived on a bayou, and flooded badly during Hurricane Harvey. Lost just about everything...8' of water in the yard and 4' in the house. He could no longer work, and since I have horses, he wanted me to have a place that made taking care of them easier. So we moved 175 miles away, to east Texas. He passed away about 18 months later. I asked him to contact me if he could. Unlike Ken, I didn't have to talk him into it. He said he would. (However, I did remind him a few times}. About two weeks after he died, my niece sent me a gift...it was a clip with his name on it, the year he was born, the year he died, and the words...."Your wings were ready, but my heart was not." I knew it was a clip of some kind but not what it was for. A couple of days later, someone told me it was a visor clip for your vehicle. Oh. So I was going to go out and put it in my truck. But I couldn't find it. It had been laying on the kitchen counter. I looked everywhere for it. Under the furniture....never found it. I felt terrible. I had moved away, and would probably not see my niece again, but if I did...I wouldn't have it. I felt terrible. I even considered ordering one just like it, in case I did see her again. Six weeks passed. Covid restrictions let up here....I was glad to be able to be out and about again. I went to the thrift shop that had just re-opened. I had indigestion. I knew I had a bottle of Tums in my truck. It has bucket seats, and I thought the bottle had fallen between the console and the seat. I got down and looked under the seat on the driver's side. Not there. I went around to the passenger side, looked under that seat...there they were. Took two and went in the shop. Came out about an hour later, opened the door on the driver's side, and there was the clip. First thing I saw when I opened the door. It wasn't there when I went in...I would have seen it, especially since I got down and looked under the seat. You may think I had taken it to the truck and forgotten about it, but if I had done that I would have put it on the visor, and I didn't even know what it was for until someone told me, and then I couldn't find it. So those are my signs. I had asked my husband for something specific. I live in the country. There are milions of butterflies and cardinals here. I wanted something to be sure. It has given me a lot of comfort. I still miss him terribly and sometimes the grief catches me by surprise and is so painful again, but this tells me, he is okay, and he is near.

I think much of the problem here is the way one looks at any horse, in particular a Thoroughbred race horse. Are they livestock or are they a pet? They're actually a bit of both! They are livestock though, and how one views livestock is quite different than the family pet. When livestock outlive their usefulness to a farmer, they are sent to a slaughter house or put down and the knacker is called to take away their bodies. We don't do that with our domestic pets - that would be considered appalling and it would be. But what would one do with race horses that are now too old to race? Keeping a racehorse involved stabling, exercise and food - all costly things. One cannot run a business and have a stable full of horses that are not pulling their weight Harsh? Well, it depends on if they are pets or livestock. Could I send a horse to a slaughter lot or have him euthanized and his body hauled off? No, but then I would have a very hard time sending cattle to be slaughtered, either, even though I do eat meat. I remember when my grandmother would decide that an old hen she had had quit laying for her - that old hen was going in the stock/stew pot without a 2nd thought. It was hard for me to watch her kill a chicken that was going on the table for dinner at noon that day. But I sure did enjoy her fried chicken. Call me a hypocrite - I might well be as I just couldn't do it but I'm not a vegetarian or vegan. The "good" people in any industry, whether it involves animals or not, are ethical. Others are not. People at the high end of the Thoroughbred industry ARE ethical, but there are bottom feeders who are right up there with horse thieves. I'm involved in my dogs' breed club - they are purebred dogs. I can promise you that the "best" breeders are ethical. Now, being "best" does not necessarily mean those who win a LOT - some are, some aren't. But "best" on my list are highly ethical and ALWAYS put the well-being of the dogs above their own personal gain. Others do not. My friend, the equine vet, graduated from the Univ of PA Veterinary School, one of the top vet schools in the country, is a member of the Jockey Club and has been a Jockey Club Steward, has served on the Board of Overseers for the Univ of PA Vet School, and was named Warner Jones Horseman of the Year. One would be hard pressed to find a nicer, more ethical man. He bred Thoroughbred horses for many years. His father was the Racing Secretary at two major racetracks, and both his sons are in various aspects of the industry. I believe this man. Of course, money is involved - it must be - it's a VERY expensive sport. Now if you are a card-caring PETA member, you will tell me I should not own a purebred dog, eat meat, wear leather, and that horse racing is no different than dog fighting. Not much room for discussion there, is there?