Tinker McStinker

Way back in January, 2009 my sister called and asked if I wanted to go to a horse sale with her. Uh, NO! I hate those things. I hate animal auctions of any kind. They make my heart hurt and my stomach roll. I empathize too much with the fear I see in their eyes. When I bring an animal home it's for fucking ever. I have an obligation to them. It's like having children to me. I will do the best I can possibly do until one of us dies. The only way I send an animal somewhere else is if they leave here for food (I raise livestock, remember?) or if I find someone who does a better job at caring for them than I can do. I am not perfect by any means but I have seen a lot worse.

Kathy wanted me to go to the sale and while I don't normally go, this particular place has great hotdogs so I went. I am a hotdog ho. Now you know. I walked through the barn with my hand up by my head as I looked downwards so I wouldn't see any of the horses. Despite my efforts and because he was so small, my eyes fell upon the most pitiful sight ever. This little guy was nothing but scruff. He could barely stand. He was so weak I didn't think he would make it through the night. My shoulders drooped, I shook my head and proclaimed "Ah, shit". Shortly after that an argument began between myself and the man who was responsible for bringing the colt. This asshat said he had brought the colt for someone else and I said "I wouldn't claim responsibility for that either buddy". I told him I would give him $20 for the colt. He said he was told to run the colt through the ring. I came back with "I don't think 'run' is an option. You might be able to drag him through the ring". It finally came down to me telling this jerk in no uncertain terms that I would take that little guy home with me whether he liked it or not and if he gave me any grief over it I'd slap the shit out of him. I got the colt, for better or worse. I can be a real bitch when I need to be. Just ask anybody.

When it was all over my little guy, who could barely walk for staggering, was loaded into my sister's and her husband's trailer. When we left the interstate and parted ways I got my guy and held him on my lap in the front seat of the pickup truck the rest of the way home. I put him in a stall with some hay and water. I patted him and left him under a heatlamp for the night. The next morning I called the vet and Dr Jeff came over bright and early. I thought the little guy was dehydrated but I was wrong. Dr Jeff told me that my guy was the worst case of malnutrition he had ever seen. Dr Jeff has seen a lot of shit. It didn't give me much hope that my little guy was at the top of the list titled "Worst Ever".

Somewhere along the way I started calling him Tinker. He was so tiny and so helpless. It made me hurt to look at him. He had no fat, and worse, he had no muscle. He hadn't just gone hungry, he had been hungry all of his life. We couldn't figure out how he was even standing because bones need muscle to hold them together. Tinker had no muscle. When I put my hands on him I could feel the bones clicking together when he walked. It gave me cold chills. Tinker was covered in scabs from head to hoof. When I wormed him days later, it looked as if he was passing barbed wire when the worms came out of him. I spent six weeks treating him for encysted pneumonia. It was by far the worst rescue case I had ever brought in. He was supposed to be three months old. The farrier later told me he couldn't have been more than four weeks old when he came here. Every day the only promise I could make to him was "You won't die hungry".

It was a long, hard haul but my Tinker is still with me. He's spoiled rotten and I love him dearly. Whenever Dr Jeff has vet students riding with him he brings them here to meet Tinker. Tinker isn't worth a dime to anyone but me and I doubt he'll ever be more than a pasture ornament but he gives me sugar every day and I like it. I guess I'll keep him.

Maybe some day we might learn to pull a cart. He's at least part Hackney and he's gorgeous when he trots. He's barely two years old so that's a ways off yet. It would be cool, don't you think?