This is the blog post I’ve been dreading writing. On Monday, Tank sustained an injury he couldn’t come back from, and was peacefully and humanely euthanized at the equine vet hospital. I’m devastated, but also so, so grateful for the privilege of having him in my life for more than 21 years.

I’ve written often about our relationship, life lessons from the barn, and so many everyday adventures and simple pleasures resulting from having this lifelong dream come true. My time with him stretched me in almost every way, but one of the most important ways involved learning to be brave and do what needed to be done. I wasn’t perfect, but I did my best and I have no regrets about our time together. I loved and pampered him, and spent hours just hanging out with him. I studied horse care and horsemanship in order to give him a good life, not only because it was the right thing to do, but because I was so grateful for his presence. It gave me a lot of pleasure to care for him well, even when it became challenging as he aged.

Thinking deep thoughts

I wonder how many hundreds (thousands?) of pounds of carrots I’ve fed him over the last 21 years?!

Having my horse all these years has brought me joy, pain, sweat, and dirt, and involved sacrificing both time and money. I thank my husband for his gracious support of my horse dream. (Neither of us knew it would last for 21+ years and it’s probably better that we didn’t know how big a commitment we were making!) Despite my current grief, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. Tank was absolutely the best boy, and everyone loved him, vets and farriers included, because he was always gentle and good (unless you tried to hot shoe him, and then he was definitely Not Good.). 

The last photo I took of Tank, after I gave him a shower to cool him off

I feel a little lost without him. I built my weekly schedule around visits to the barn, and suddenly I have time on my hands. It’ll take me a while to get my bearings. My friends and family have been kind and understanding and I’m grateful for that, too. I know eventually it won’t hurt so much, but for now, my heart aches when I remember I won’t be seeing his sweet face looking at me inquisitively, or be able to bury my nose in his neck for that therapeutic horse smell. 

Being Tank’s person changed me for the better and will always remain one of the greatest joys of my life. Even in grief, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the experience.

More Tank content:

Read about how I found Tank here. 

This post includes links to some of my favorite Catching Happiness writings about Tank.

Here is another one of my favorite posts.