It's almost too painful for me to write out the whole story, for my grief for this horse is almost too much to bear.
He was only ten.
I got him this February as a show horse/resale project. He leaped into my heart, and my mom bought him. He was lovely, truly beautiful, like a Breyer horse. Every detail, every line. It was my honor to ride him and live out the remainder of his life with him. Which is the saddest part of all of this.
We had put him at a new show barn, one in which we thought he would get the better care for than the previous one. Thought.
It was a beautiful facility. And all the horses cared for there got bathed constantly, shined and polished, and ridden once a day and then turned out at night. Unfortunately, my horse apparently wasn't worth his space or time. He was sent to a place where...he was not cared for. And we were not told. We were lied to. Because no horse of mine would ever, ever be allowed to go into that situation. I care for them too deeply.
It was a show barn as well, but Tipsy, this horse of mine, was not (yet again) worth this person's time either. So he was sent off to some shack at the other end of the property. He was not watched or cared for, and a friend of ours had gone there to try him.
She called my mom up, saying he had a temperature and he looked sick. That very next second we called demanding he were away from there, put back at his place, and we were going to go see him the next morning to make sure.
Crickets.
Nothing for twelve hours.
The next day...
Nothing.
We called and called, and finally he said to come look at four, and we couldn't go see him until then. Obviously we weren't falling for that, so texted asking if he were there and went to pick him out. Meanwhile I was showing my Fox Hunter, Happy, at an all-week show. There was an extra stall for Tipsy to be put in.
He came to us with an obstruction and an upper respiratory infection. He got tubed and medicated, and from that point on he was...off. After the horse show ended we took him to horse heaven, a big field with his friend. He got laminitis the following week.
What had happened to him was that the medication treating his upper respiratory infection had killed off his flora, good bacteria that processes hay. It came out pivot diarrhea eventually, made him sick, and then resulted in his laminitis. We called this idiotic vet that happened to be 'on call' since, of course, all the others weren't available. She demanded we do all this stuff and then we just called Piedmont, a clinic. They picked him up and took him to their hospital... he was attached to an IV the last time I saw him, his feet and legs helped up by some sort of sling. He was in incredible pain, and I had no intention, and neither did my mom, of letting him suffer. The next morning the vet called saying that it was our call - either he be put down and his misery would end, or he would continue going through agony just for the 15% chance he'd ever be able to walk again. And what's a horse who can't run.
It was the toughest decision.
My beautiful, gorgeous, lovely, perfect Tipsy. Wasted because some people were too lazy, too inconsiderate, too self absorbed to care for a horse. And he had had an obstruction, pretty much meaning he couldn't eat or drink, for a week. A week. This is what happens when you go to a horse show apparently.
And I am so, so livid. But this isn't about me, it's about Tipsy, and I wish him a peaceful crossing to the other side.
God bless you, sweetheart.
In the photo: Tipsy all dolled up for his big show. Love you, big man.
Tipsy 
