No smiley pics today.

After thirty five years Louis, my daughter's pony, reached the end of the line.

    At a whopping 35, which according to my calculator, is almost 90 in our years, his Cushings and Laminitis and inevitably age, finally caught up with him.

This was my feeble attempt to paint him. 

    I believe the vet might have given him a little more of the stuff she used than was necessary for the sake of my daughter because he was gone peacefully in under two minutes.

    I used to call him Limping Louis in my lighter moments, but Leaping Louis isn't limping anymore. If there really is a heaven, I hope he's galloping round an eternal pasture.

I'll miss him.