Raski Roo May 1998 - Sept 2025
This is so heartbreaking for me to write, even though it has been two weeks today.
On September 19th, we had to make the very sad decision to let Rookie go over the rainbow bridge. I had always dreaded that day and didn't think it would be this soon but things were not going to plan.
Rookie had battled Laminitis along with his metabolic conditions for nearly five years and was having some good remission periods.
Unfortunately, as a result of the amount of medication he had to take daily, he had developed stomach ulcers and in May this year, he had his first ever colic. It was nasty, and we nearly lost him then. However in true Rookie style, he recovered and continued life as bright eyed and bushy tailed as ever - this pony didn't read the rule book!
The colic episodes didn't stop though and although much milder than the first one, they were getting more frequent. We tried a decent gut balancer amongst things but it wasn't improving.
On Sept 15th, he had another round of x rays on his feet, that showed, three hooves were actually doing well. The fourth however was another story. He had begun to founder and the coffin bone was curling round towards his heel. It was a bit of a shock as he wasn't really lame at all, just a bit footy on that one.
As if he didn't have enough going on, he suddenly developed some sarcoids in some really inconvenient areas and in the six months from when they first appeared, they grew at an alarming rate.
The vet had a chat with us - we knew we were getting to the end of the road. We knew Rookie wasn't ready to go - but we had to tell him it was time. What I didn't want was to find him down and in agony with another colic episode and having him leave us like that.
We wanted to spend a few days with him, make the most of him and also allow him to be a pony again, without all the restrictions, the diet, and the frustration that came with it all. I wanted him to have a perfect day for his last day here.
We decided on the day a week from then, took him off all meds apart from pain relief and spoiled him rotten. He had a lovely few days, I spent all my time with him, brushing him, fussing him and allowing him all the things he had been denied for so long.
At night, when he was in his stable, I would watch him through the night on the cctv. I made the most of every last whinney, whicker and snuffle, breathed him in, kissed the little dimple on his bottom every day. Inside though, I was slowly dying, wondering how on earth I was going to cope when he was gone. Of course he didn't understand why I held him so tight.
On the Thursday, three days before the day we had planned to be his last, he took a long time coming in from the field, he ate his tea and I bedded him down for the night. I saw him at 10.30pm and he was a bit sweaty but otherwise seemed fine and tucked into his supper. Then he lay down. He stayed down most of the night going between curling up into a ball and then stretching out onto his side. Something was wrong. I went up at 4am. He was still a bit sweaty, but delighted to see me and wanted some food. His eyes shone bright as they always did but something told me, I shouldn't make it go on for another three days.
I woke my daughter in the morning and told her 'No school today...' She knew what I meant and immediately got up.
I rang his shiatsu practitioner (yes, he had regular shiatsu - he always got so much out of his treatments) and she cancelled all her appointments for that day and got on the road from North Wales. I called the vet and arranged the time for later on in the afternoon.
My neighbour arranged for the digger and I contacted the farmer who agreed to help bury him.
The sun shone from the start. In the morning, he had stopped sweating and was eager for breakfast. Then we turned him out with his two friends. We spent the morning with him in the field, watching him graze with the sun on his back. Ally, the Shiatsu lady arrived and gave him a treatment in the field, which he loved. We sat there, watching him and reminiscing about happy memories and silly things he did. Then we let him be for a couple of hours with his buddies.
About an hour before the vet was due, we went back up and put all three on the long fresh grass at the top, which was a real treat for him. He scooted round with the other two and stuffed his face with grass. We sat and watched him. He was happy.
We made a bowl up of carrots, apples, hob nob biscuits and lindt chocolate (we figured he had probably never tasted chocolate so what the hell)
The vet arrived and we caught him and brought him to the side of the field. We allowed his friends to be part of the process. He waffled up the apples, carrots and the rest, while the sedative went in. A few minutes later, it was all over. Hopefully, the last thing he knew was the lovely sweet treats in his mouth and us all being there with him, telling him how much we loved him.
The vet sat with us for a while too - he was fond of Rascal - before leaving us to it. We let the other horses stay with him, sniff him and process what had happened for themselves.
The farmer collected him in a huge tractor bucket and he spent one last night in the barn before being buried at sunrise. We were there of course. He was arranged neatly in the hole, with his little star rug over him, his favourite chewy rope and salt lick plus a bag of crunchitts.
I have cried every day since. He was so much more than just a pony, he didn't just leave a hole, it was a crater. I visit him most days and I try to get on with it. There have been signs. I feel him near but it is way too quiet now. My little friend has gone and I will have to deal with it. I have OK days and bad days but it is going to take a very long time to heal.
He will always be the face of Rookie Roo Journals - It started because of him and our flagship product, the Laminitis Journal and we will always honour and remember him.
Sleep tight bright eyes - till we meet again
❤️❤️❤️❤️