Well, it's been a week and a half since Tonka was laid to rest. It feels like a life time ago.
I went out to the farm tonight, as I have several times in the past week, to spend some time with Frank and I walked out to the run in that they used to share. There are still signs that Tonka was there. Signs that I'm not really ready to part with and hope that Beth doesn't clean out that side of the shed.
I stood there and cried and wished that he was there to pick my pockets and nudge at me for a treat. I longed to look at his cute face....and rub his head and tell him I love him...but all I could do was look up to the sky and cry and tell my boy how sorry I was that he wasn't with us anymore. I stayed there for a while, crying and longing to touch his course mustang hair, until Frank came and pushed on me and pushed me away from the shed and herded me back towards the gate.
I gave Frankie a big hug and rubbed his handsome face and told him I loved him and continued to walk towards the gate.
I watched Frank graze a while before going to the barn where there are still traces of Tonka. I've put his halter and shank in the tack box, but his Bittless Bridle is still hanging on the nail with Frank's Bridle and Halter. I'm just not ready to put his things away...even tho it's hard to see them.
I have a lot of good and bad memories with Tonka.
Tonka came to us in an interesting way....Someone wanted to use my trailer to take this pony to the farm. I didn't know this person. He even had the nerve to ask to use just my tags. Um...still no. Then, my mom suggested we watch said pony. So, 2 weeks turned into almost 6 years total. Turns out Tonka was only 6, maybe close to 7. He still hadn't gotten his 7 year nitch.
He got his name because he dumped me, in the stall, for the 3rd time in 2 weeks. This was about 6 years ago. I was so humiliated. Frank is a Thoroughbred, who people have said, "that horse is going to kill that girl!" that I've had since he was 9. I got my pony license aboard him and I rode him on the track a couple times a week but I could NOT stay on this little Tonka Horse. So, that's where his name came from.
He once jumped over my head; his feet were eye level with my face. I can still remember thinking...OMG...What the _____!!!! And then he slid on the landing and went down. I remember my heart beating so hard and worrying that he was hurt. I assessed the situation, amazed that he just had some minor scratches, and got him back to the barn and I didn't touch him for a year or better. I'd brush him, I'm spend time with him, but my mom was the only one that would ride him.
I was really afraid of Tonka.
Then, I had moved Frank off the race track and introduced him to a real retirement. He was 14. The poor guy had lived mot of his life on the track and he always looked like he was ready to race.
One day, I went out to see my mom, who begged me to go out to the track with her. I was like, who am I going to ride. She said him. Pointing to Tonka. She swore to me that he had changed. I was skeptical, but I got on and we headed out to the track.
Tonka was a good boy. Very professional and very responsive to the other horses needs and mine. I was impressed.
Then, every time I'd go out to the track, I'd be sure to bring my riding gear.
Then Tonka came up lame. My mom's boyfriend said he had Laminitis. She really didn't tell me that he had it. She told me that he didn't. That he was fine. There was nothing wrong with the pony.
My husband, then my boyfriend, had just had to return his adopted horse to Day's End Farm because they had failed to tell us or maybe they didn't diagnose her COPD. They did laugh about her insistent coughing, that really was no laughing matter. Poor thing. That was a horrible experience.
Fibi is still at Day's End and I sometimes steal a minute to see what they have her doing. She will always be on the farm there and is used as a program horse, but she will always be on expensive medications.
Anyway, we were looking for a new horse. Tim wanted to ride with me. Horses are how we met and a couple that rides together, stays together...right?!?!?! Well, maybe....LOL! It sure does make finding things to do together, easier.
Well....after not much debate, we took Tonka to the farm where Frankie was. He came up lame again. He had a walk like I had once seen before in Peanut. Boy was I pissed off at my mom. I didn't even talk to her for a while.
This was over three years ago.
We took him off the grass....put him in the riding ring that didn't have grass. The farrier put shoes on him. He had shoes for almost 2 years, finally getting them off last August or September. We thought we beat it. The funny thing is; I know you don't really beat Laminitis. It's like cancer. It goes into remission, only to show up again when you’re not really expecting it.
A couple months ago, Tonka got stuck in a gate and that was the start to the downward spiral.
We were being so careful. I was driving out to the farm daily. Doing cold compresses that would annoy Tonka. We even had the vet out. Had him hoof tested. All was still looking good. One day, a couple weeks later, Tim had been out the night before and was concerned about Tonka and he wanted me to go out. I had been to my retina specialist and was somewhat concerned about heading out but I put on my super dark sunglasses and Tim and I headed out to the farm. We called the farrier....who prepped us for the bad news. Then we had the x-rays that showed us that bad news. Then they gave us the 5% chance of hope that sounded like Tonka the experimental guinea pig or ....well, I still can't say it.
The 5% seemed promising...but it meant he'd never be able to be on grass again...he'd be stall bound or in a dry lot. He'd have to eat last cut hay...no alfalfa, no fresh green grass....It would have to be a late season cut...the more we thought about it....the more I talked to people I know, farriers, Thoroughbred Trainers, other horse owners, my mom, my mother in law and searched the web.....they all said the same thing. The web gave you a bit more hope, but what was irritating...you had to pay for the information that provided "the magic cure." No, we didn't pay. We realize that if it sounds too good to be true, it usually is.
Then, we thought about Tonka's heritage. He was once a wild Mustang. How could you do this to a horse that was already taken from the wild. Put on an auction site, shipped across country in a confined space. Then taken to the race track and thrust in a stall.
So, here we are. Even Frank has mourned. He won’t go in Tonka's side of the shed. He will stand and look at it. He even stands close to the center wall where he will look over the wall. He will glance in it as he walks by. A true sign that we all need to mourn our losses.
I'll end this with some photos and a video.
Tonka loved to be ridden. He once entertained a dozen or so children with pony rides.
He loved food!
Tonka was a groomsman in our wedding.
The wedding party.
Here is a link to Tonka's video that his daddy put together.
