Excuse my typos and misspellings.
Tuck Died Today 6 March, 2009
This evening I went and picked up the Backhoe to haul it back home. Tomorrow morning I must bury Tuck in the pasture that he worked so hard for. Tuck paid for a lot of this little patch of ground Tracey and I call home. He did so by hard work. Tuck was our oldest Percheron and I worked with him for fifteen years on a daily basis until he was retired. His teammate Nip is still in our pasture.
Across Brush Creek from where Jordan (my Son) and I are now timbering is a farm owned by a fellow who raises Buffaloes. Tuck, Nip and I logged it about eighteen years ago. Many days we lunched by an old swimming hole, I ate my sandwich, Nip and Tuck had a few carrots for lunch. Back in the mountain on the Buffalo farm Nip and Tuck, with the help of a block and tackle, pulled a real nice Red Oak log up the mountain. Once on the flat they then pulled it down to the log truck. When we got it to the landing I thought I’d let them catch their breath and just pull it to the truck with the loader. It couldn’t pull it as the ground was pretty wet and there was no traction. There was nothing to do but let Nip and Tuck pull it on over to the truck. I thought about that as we loaded the Backhoe on the trailer tonight and after we loaded the Backhoe and started out the gravel road with it we passed directly by another beautiful spot on Brush Creek the three of us had logged.
I have a picture of Jordan riding Tuck while I’m riding Nip. Jordan was probably ten years old at the time. We kept our horses on a summer pasture down at the bottom of the hill and we’d walked down and rode them back up to the farm for some farm work. I forget now whether it was to cut hay or what, but, I do remember asking Jordan where he’d rode that big ol’ Horse from and he said North Carolina. He’d been nervous about getting on Tuck to ride him up but about mid way through he was just fine with it. Tuck was our even tempered horse and not likely to get spooked and Jordan came to be fond of him. A couple of years later when Jordan was twelve I was logging a spot one summer with a long flat pull. Jordan decided he could help. I would hook Nip and Tuck to the load and get them in the skid trail. I showed Jordan where to let them catch their breath on the way out and He drove Nip and Tuck. The three of them snaked many loads of logs out together that summer.
Tuck was my steady horse. Nip worked lead because he had a bit more spunk but Tuck kept him from getting to nervous and hopped up. But that isn’t to say that Tuck was a slouch. Far from it, in fact one time (probably twelve years ago now) he put so much heart into it he passed out in the traces. We were skidding a heck of a big log down the mountain. I used a log arch on that trail and it caused Tuck’s collar to ride up a bit high in one particular section of the trail. Tuck passed out and I thought he’d had a heart attack. I hurriedly took off his harness, well as fast as I could since it was stretched pretty tight when he fell down. I was starting to consider cutting it off him when I got the buckle to release. Once I did he came to and jumped right up. I put his harness back on him and they snaked the log on out to the landing. I’d heard old timers talk about a horses choking down when they hit a tight rock plowing and that is what happened with Tuck that day. Tuck never was short on heart.
Nip and Tuck had their share of adventures in the traces but a couple in particular stand out for me. When logging I would always tie Tuck to a tree and leave Nip untied. Mostly it was because Tuck would reach over and bite Nip to remind him who was boss. One day I had tied Tuck up and Nip on the lead side was standing next to about a four foot deep hole. I walked over and felled a tree, but, before topping it I happened to look back and didn’t see Nip or Tuck. I did see the log arch sticking up in the air. Well I rushed back and realized that Tuck had untied himself (he occasionally would) and reach over to bite Nip who jumped side ways and fell in the hole pulling Tuck over on top of him. I jumped in on top of them and scrambled to get the harness off trying to get Tuck off of Nip. I cussed Tuck a bit that day but neither of them were hurt. About a week later we were logging a particularly steep section and I wasn’t using the log arch. Nip and Tuck were just skidding with the double tree. Again, I tied Tuck and cut a tree. Looking back I could see Nip had pulled his bridle off and was eating poison Ivy. (For those of you who don’t know Poison Ivy is a horse delicacy, more on that later.) He saw my look and knew he’d done wrong and spun around and took off down the hill. Tuck was tied and when the double tree tightened up Tuck was snatched over backwards. In the meantime I took off down the hill and caught Nip. Tuck scrambled to his feet and I cussed Nip a bit that day. But, I always figured it was pay back for the falling in the hole incident.
As to Poison Ivy delicacies for horses, once it led to an un-needed diet for Tuck. For some reason Tuck was losing weight even though he seemed to be eating well. Finally, I watched him closely one night at the evening feed and he was dropping grain and couldn’t chew his hay as he should. Seemed like it was time for a teeth filing. So I called our veterinarian to come out and float his teeth. The Vet came out and did so but the next day I noticed no improvement in is eating habits. Called the Vet back out and he came out to our logging site. I pulled Tuck’s bridle off and held his tongue to the side and the Vet gave a long look inside his mouth, then reached in a pulled a pencil size stem of Poison Ivy vine out of Tuck’s mouth. The stem had gotten hung crossways back in his throat and was making eating difficult. All was well after it was removed and Tuck was quickly back in good flesh (which typically ran a bit on the chubby butt side).
Tuck was good in all manner of work. Once we were logging a fellow’s timber that also ran some quarter horse mares, pretty good cutting stock I might add. We would skid all day through a gap in the fence and the mare’s left us alone. But, this one day they decide to get out and graze the hay field. I let them be till the end of the day then I put Nip on the trailer and jumped on Tuck’s back. He was still in full harness but that didn’t bother him.
We rounded those mares and had them on the right side of the fence in a jiffy. Tuck particularly liked that job since mares were not on the top of his favorites list.
I mowed a lot of hay with Tuck, raked a lot of hay and even pulled a Wisconsin powered baler behind him. Nip and Tuck also pulled a two ton truck up out of the spring after two tractors couldn’t pull it out and I mean two tractors hooked to it at the same time. The old timer who was driving the truck just smiled when I said I’d walk down and harness my team and come back and pull him out. He knew they would. They did it with ease even after I had the driver back it down the hill out of the tracks the tractors had made. Nip and Tuck even snatched trees that hung up when falling and even would stand calmly while chainsaw chips bounced off them when I needed to cut a snag out of the way. Tuck even stood still and didn’t bolt while a tree fell in his face (of course it was an accident) and I’m sure Nip would have been off to the races had not Tuck stood so calmly. I could go on and on for as I type I remember more and more. I never found a task Nip and Tuck couldn’t handle together but Tuck was the one that kept it together when things went wrong. Tuck was an honest horse and I have others but he was the first I had that I could give that title too.
I have many photographs of Tuck but even though I will cherish them all they do not give the full meaning of the relationship between a horseman and his horses. I followed Tuck many thousands of miles as we skidded logs out of the mountains. I fed him morning and night for many years. I brushed him out and cooled him down when he was hot. I provided the best of Vet care and I was his farrier. I set up with him on several occasions when I thought he might be colicing. But in the end old age and the Good Lord’s time was called. I will miss him greatly for he was always ready with a nicker whenever I called. That was true until the end, which is how I knew. I called and he didn’t answer, I found him in the tree line and he was gone.
Robert McNabb
