Tory and Pico

Tory was an AngloArab gelding in his early 30s. There was nothing he liked better than to be free on the ranch. He could wander wherever he wanted and if someone should show up he could be right there with them. Many times when Tory was out I would be working along only to find a big grey friend willing to help. He loved to be scratched and petted . He would nicker vigorously for his grain.
As he got older he could not hold his weight. He spent the days nibbling at the grain, ignoring the hay and dozing in the sun.

Granddaughter Beth got to ride him once and he still had lots of vim and vinegar. Tory boy, there is an empty space in the barn and in our hearts. You were a great horse.

We made the decision to put Tory down because he was starving to death. He had plenty of good food, supplements, vet care and love, yet he just got thinner and thinner. Starving is starving whether it is from lack of food or because the body can no longer process the food. Either way starvation is not a good way to die. Our final gift to Tory was to give him his angel wings.

Pico was an early teens Westphalian. He had been injured in training and came to Home At Last because his former owner wanted a safe loving place for him. He had a presence that drew people to him.


He was a big boy 17.2 hands, but loved to be loved.

Pico was every one's friend.

Sunday morning Pico was not at his usual place -first in line for food. He was standing with his head down behind the barn. Jim took his stethoscope but could get no gut sounds. That is very bad. Pico was given 2 pain shots and just before Dr Darling arrive he started to drink a little.

Dr D did a thorough exam, even an internal palpation, but the news was sad. Apparently an abscess had internalized causing a torsion in his intestine. There was nothing to do. He was in extreme pain. We had to make the tearful decision to put him down.

That was late morning and all of us could not believe we lost 2 wonderful horses. Our hearts were heavy. Early afternoon the rumpus started. From the lower well the horses came thundering up the hill, tails flowing, feet thudding and many whinnies. The herd whirled around went back down and came up again with even the mules and donkeys joining in. It was beautiful.

I think that Tory's and Pico's spirits were galloping across the heavens to their final pasture and their earthly herd joined them in part of their journey.
It made the rest of the day a little easier to bear.