My Irish Sport Horse Toad, the last of the pioneers that make the trek to Kentucky with me 18 years ago, died this past weekend at the age of 24.
Toad started his life with me as one of those free horses that after having been diagnosed with navicular in both front feet at age 4, needed a good home. He was big and handsome and what a personality. I immediately fell for him, and despite his prognosis and disagreeable nature he came to live with me.
His registered name was Hennely, but he was such a rotten sort around the barn that his owners
named him Toad. He would lunge at the door if anyone came near his stall during feeding time and he would run his teeth up and down the bars and make a ferocious growling noise. He could be vicious in the field and could only be turned out with very quick horses that stayed out of his way. Leading him to and from the paddock could be nerve wracking, and watching him run away from you, lead shank dangling, was always right on the edge of possible. Under saddle he was always a gentleman.
I must have seen something kind in him and over the years we just seemed to get in sync and he was definitely my main man on the farm.
Our harmonious relationship took some time to establish though as we worked through who was in charge. There were several times when he left, me lead shank trailing, to run off into the distance, and Toad wasn't one of those horses that stuck around when he got loose. He would run! I always told people that helped on the farm, "Whatever you do, don't let Toad out!". He was notorious for bolting and running ANY time I tried to lunge him no matter the amount of restraint, and I had the rope burns as proof.
Toad's bad behavior with regard to lead ropes and lunge lines was nothing compared to his field antics. He terrified newcomers and would chase them mercilessly. To slow him down I would
attach multiple lunge lines (in case one broke) to a halter so that he would step on them as he charged. While dominant, I never took his behavior as bully like, just very, very dominant. And despite his behavior, the most damage he ever inflicted was some teeth marks and missing hair.
Early on his feeding time drama was over the top. He would pin his ears at anyone or anything that came near him. I threw many buckets at him when he would charge or kick at me. With time he became completely docile with humans but was always the leader in the herd. He would still pin his ears at me but I would just grab him and give him a big kiss.
Toad's strength was so present that not all horses could handle it. When Elvis, a 16 year old appendix jumper, came to live with me, he became obsessed with being the herd leader. He was almost dangerous and I ended up boarding him off the farm where he turned back into the well-mannered horse that I purchased. We also had an older mare that came to stay with us that went into a hormonal rage over Toad. She urinated on herself to the point of scalding and ran around calling out to him, upsetting the rest of the herd. She's now used as a therapeutic riding horse at Central Kentucky Riding for Hope, if that gives you any indication on how crazy he made her. Toad was the manliest of men.
While his field and barn behavior left something to be desired, I never remember him scaring me under saddle. Despite being almost 17 hands, I used to be able to get on him bareback from the ground because he would stand rock still while I took a run at him, jumped and then hooked my heel into his hip to get enough purchase to drag myself up. We would go through this routine many times as there were a lot of gates on the property where I rode him.
Toad's other charming traits were his love for attention and scratches. He loved to be groomed and would stand quietly for hours if someone just rubbed on him a little. We also established that he would point with this nose to a spot that he wanted to be itched, whether it be a hock, pasturn, belly or side. He would keep pointing out various spots as long as I kept itching them.
On Saturday, I went out about 4pm to feed and saw him running around the perimeter of the field. All of the other horses were still and watching him. I stopped because I could tell something was wrong. He looked like he was searching for or chasing something. Toad has severe navicular and running just wasn't something that he did. He finally stopped and dropped and I went over to see what was going on. He was sweating and in obvious stress. I got him up and to the barn where I hosed him off, took his temp and checked his vital signs. Not hot, gums pale, but not too bad, but very stressed. He wasn't tucked up or looking at his sides so colic wasn't immediately jumping out at me. Then he started to roll. He rolled and rolled and rolled, back and forth, up and down. I gave him banamine and called the vet. The banamine didn't seem to help so after discussing our options (palp did show something was out of place), we decided to knock him out to see if time and relaxing might help fix whatever was out of sorts inside of him. An hour or so later he is back on his feet and seems to be better. Gut sounds are a little better and he's much more relaxed and doesn't appear to be stressed. He even wanted to eat. The vet oiled him and left hopeful that things might work out. Within 30-45 minutes he was back to sporadic rolling that was only getting worse with time, so I asked the vet to come back to end his pain. With his feet really bothering him, coming out of winter the worst I've ever seen him, and the colic causing him so much pain, I decided it was time.
The field is just not the same without him. I keeping looking out thinking that I see him, only to remember that he's gone.
I'm the one that writes and photographs pretty much everything that you see on this site.
