I was 13 when a bossy, stubborn welsh section C called Tinker came into my life. 22 years later, almost to the day, I had to lose him. April the 1st. Some April Fool's joke and the day before my birthday. I loved him so much, I feel like half my heart and soul has been ripped out. He was the most wonderful boy, we grew up together. But he grew old before me. Before the cushings ruined everything, he use to wait for me at the gate and we'd run to the stable together. I just wish we could have given him a decent retirement, turned out in a big grassy field. Cushings is evil. It means you have to control their diet strictly and limit his grazing. We managed to get two years by turning tink out all day on a bare paddock. But he loved his grass, and his frolicking. It wasn't fair. He deserved so much more. I can't believe I will never stroke him again or kiss his most kissable nose. Death is so final and that's what I can't cope with.
Tinker I love you so much, you can't imagine the pain I'm in without you. I'm just glad you had a chance to meet Michael. He's already showing an interest in horses and dogs. If it weren't for him I wouldn't be able to go on. I will always love and remember you. Please wait for me x