Friday, January 16, 2015

1/16/14 - 1/16/15. One year without.

My whirlwind romance with my big red man ended a year ago today. I still don't really have words to capture him and I can't bring him back. Here's a pictorial journey of our last months together.
After the first vet visit. 

Cuna spent the first two weeks after the initial incident with some dear friends while his barn got worked on. It introduced me to what life without a show barn could look like for him and gave me some mental space to make better choices. I still believed he could get better and that if I did the right things, I could help him.
taking time to breathe

Shortly thereafter, I took a rare me trip and realized that I needed to quit pushing the recovery and get Cuna out of the situation he was in. It was time to dial everything back and let him be a horse.
someone was happy

I have rarely regretted a decision less. Cuna loved his stall, but he was always pissy and weird in a barn situation. His whole demeanor changed with this move--he played with his buddies, enjoyed his time, and almost completely gave up flipping his nose at bugs.
beautiful and broken

I carefully monitored lameness levels on detailed calendars and gave him the best of everything. An early winter vet visit helped us out for a while, but I could read the writing on the wall.
he didn't love that garland

We tried to live like it wasn't. I saw him nearly every day. His feed, feet, and comfort levels were carefully managed. Cuna's barn (a private situation with one other person) was a sort of haven for us. I didn't offer to share it with other people very often. That time was just for him and I.

January came and I knew it was time. Even through tears, I could appreciate what Cuna had brought to me in terms of the little bay horse. I posted this shot on the internet, only labeled "Courage" and I made the last appointment we'd ever need.
Hakuna Matata
I ran an auto scheduled post morning of. If I'd thought of it, I would have stopped it.

But I didn't have words and Ellie wrote the post that told the blog world one of their own was no more while Lindsey and I trekked through impenetrable fog.

Even now, I don't know what to say.
I'll see you again, red man


  1. Hugs. My thoughts are with you today. I miss your big red horse.

  2. Hugs. Cuna was one of the first blog horses I knew about, and such an amazing guy.

  3. Hugs. He was one in a million. <3

  4. Big hugs to you and a carrot in the sky for Cuna! X

  5. Hugs to you. Cuna was such a special horse.

  6. hakuna matata. what a special horse

  7. Gave me goosebumps reading the line "I made the last appointment we'd ever need", cheers to the horses that are too great for words.

  8. So much ♡ to you and all those lucky enough to have crossed his path. What a truly special horse *hugs*

  9. It's so hard to lose them and I'm pretty sure that it hurts forever. I'm glad that you were blessed with such a wonderful horse during your lifetime. Sending hugs.

  10. Sending so, so many hugs. ♥ It's so hard to lose them and I can't believe it's already been a year. So happy he had you, and you had him.

  11. Hugs for you. Enormous gifts come with such a high price (which I say from a place of much empathy, having experienced a very painful anniversary of my own in Dec). I try my hardest to treasure a thing I was incredibly lucky to find, but it's no less hard.

    From one of my favourite movies, a Bette Davis masterpiece called "Now, Voyager:"

    'I hate goodbyes.'
    'They don't matter, it's what's gone before.'

  12. Hugs to you. My vet always tells me we can give our pets the gift of not having to suffer. Such a hard decision but the best one. He will always live on in your heart ❤

  13. Such a beautiful and special horse. Thinking of you on this difficult day.

  14. Hugs. He touched so many, through you. Such a special guy.

  15. I'm so sorry. It's so hard letting them go.


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