The Language of Horses

My filly, Jetblue, suffered a right dorsal displacement of her colon three weeks ago today and had to be rushed to Oregon State University for emergency life saving surgery.  Thankfully all is well and she's mending nicely.

Jetblue's recovery process involves two months of stall rest with hand walking followed by a closely supervised month or so in a small paddock.  This is understandably frustrating for a young horse.  Without fail, we've managed to get her out for twice daily walks, usually with a little hand grazing.  Since I am recovering from three broken ribs myself, this responsibility has fallen mostly to Lorenzo during the week and to Nick on the weekends.

It's no secret that Lorenzo and Jetblue have a "thing."  Sometimes, when I watch these two interact, it's as if magic is playing out before my eyes.  Lorenzo has a gift and he truly understands the language of horses.  When he's hand-walking Jetblue, she's ultra calm, so quiet that Lorenzo can sip on his mocha as the two pass back and forth between the house and barn.

Learning the language of the horse is a never ending quest.  Recently, we introduced the bosal and the mecate, a hackamore, to Irish and Drifty.  Having a solid foundation in his training, Irish took to it well.  Drifty is a different horse, much greener, and we rushed her introduction.  The result was a lot of frustration for both horse and rider.  Unfortunately, the communicaiton we had worked so hard to establish broke down.

Over the next few months, we'll be working to repair and rebuild Drifty's trust in us and her understanding of what we are asking as we endeavor to be clear and consistent.  Key to our efforts is a wonderful DVD, Jaquima a Freno Series -- Part 2, Starting the Horse in the Jaquima with Richard Caldwell. 

A Hackamore for Drifty

The beautiful handcrafted 3/4 inch, 18 plait rawhide bosal and horse mane hair mecate that Drifty sports in this photo, the one I ordered from Hamley's of Pendleton, arrived late yesterday.  Both pieces were made in America by master craftsmen and together they make a hackamore.  Unlike the bridle, the hackamore is bitless, relying on sensitive pressure points on the horses muzzle and poll.

Drifty's New Hackamore Works!

This afternoon, Lorenzo worked Drifty down in her snaffle bit and then rode her in her new hackamore.  As you can see from Lorenzo's expression, the mare was exceptionally responsive.  So much so that she even moved off the light pressure exerted by the mecate mane hairs. 

The Artist Vocation is to Send Light Into the Human Heart

The title line for this post is a quote from German composer and pianist Robert Schumann (1810-1856).
Shadows intrigue me.  Last year, I photographed my shadow with that of at least one of every species of critter here at the ranch.  It was an amazing project, one I truly loved.

Late yesterday afternoon, as I was coming in from the barn, I was again drawn to the way my long lean cowgirl shadow spills across the blacktop.  In the soft warm glow of a disappearing sun, the lines for my boots and my Elko-style hat are particularly appealing to me.  Looking through my lens, I made a few exposures before my daughter joined me, proving that two shadows are always more interesting than just one.

Driving and Holding, Consistently

The mare isn't having it.  As Lorenzo pushes the big bay roan up into the canter, she balls up, wrings her tail and squirts pee -- a sure sign she's in heat.  Over and over, the able cowboy asks for an action and again and again, the mare declines.  Taking a different approach, Lorenzo side-passes the mare halfway around the arena and the mare goes to chomping her bit furiously, still refusing to yield.

Again, Lorenzo cues the mare up into the canter.  As they thunder past, I smell the sweat, the frustration.  I pick up my cell phone and dial Rosie.

"Drifty's being a pill.  You may not want to ride her."

Five minutes later, Rosie stands next to me.  As Lorenzo labors to bend the mare to his will, Rosie watches.  Gradually, Drifty softens, although it is by no means a complete or total surrender.

"You ready to ride?" Lorenzo asks Rosie.

"Sure."

Rosie swings into the saddle and the mare's eyes grow wide under the weight of someone new, someone with strong legs.  As Rosie walks Drifty, she adjusts her reins and measures the mare.  Then, cueing Drifty to trot, Rosie drives the mare up into the bridle and holds her there.  There is no anger, no argument in Rosie's action.  Simply the drive and hold, applied skillfully and consistently until Drifty provides a right action at which point Rosie releases the reins lightly.

Rosie Drives and Holds Drifty

Always testing, Drifty tries to shoulder away from Rosie's grasp.  The mare's cantankerous heat-driven will steams full speed into the rock-solid wall of Rosie's strong legs and hands.  Walls do not give.  When Drifty looks for an open door, when she balks or balls up, Rosie pushes her forward, always forward.  One, two, three, four tries and Drifty softly gives, earning Rosie's release and earnest praise.

I tell her she's wasting her time in college, that she should be here, riding horses.  She laughs.  Lorenzo laughs.  I laugh, too.

My Guiding Principles in Life Are To Be Honest, Genuine, Thoughtful and Caring

The title line for this post is a quote from Prince William.

Twenty-four hours after Dr. Barb Crabbe and Nikki James of Pacific Crest Sporthorse took a look at one of my mares and told me she was too lame to ride, the horse was doing her best immitation of a bucking bronc out in the small paddock.  True, I had worked some powerful topical anti-inflammatory, Dex in DMSO, into her rear tendon sheath region.  True, I did put standing wraps on both of Whisper's rear legs and true, I did give her a good dose of oral NSAIDs to help quiet down the swelling.  Still, it shouldn't have been enough to make a dead lame horse WOO HOO with such vigor.  Therein lies my dilemma with Whisper.

She's a talented horse; a frustrated one, too.  In the nine years that I've owned her, Whisper has spent well over half that time recovering from some kind of injury.  Truthfully, I believe she's always been this way.  In all likelihood, the folks who sold her to me knew it, too.  Yet when Whisper is working, she's truly amazing.  So, over the years, it's been easy to justify spending a lot of money to try to fix her. 

Now, Dr. Crabbe tells me it will take a thousand dollars to diagnose Whisper, money I simply can't pull out of the air.  Money that's needed to support and sustain this family and the other viable critters.   My knowledgeable and talented vet tells me she's not optimistic, that the results -- any results -- will not be good.  So I'm reluctant to send more cash into the black hole of Whisper's care.  Clearly, Whisper will never be okay.

If I retire my mare to pasture, she'll continue to be a frustrated, out-of-work horse that bucks herself from one pulled tendon to another.  That's not the half of it.  When Whisper is injured, doctoring her requires expensive medications, lots of time, and dedication.  When Whisper breaks, I'm put in the position of designing and executing a treatment regimen.

Thinking back over the past nine years, mending Whisper has consumed way more time than riding or showing her.  Always, I struggle with the quality of life question.  Is Whisper dealing with chronic pain?  Since most of her injuries require her to be stalled in the barn with a small flat paddock -- where she's separated from the rest of her herd for long periods of time -- is she lonely?  How does a long-term chronic condition affect her psyche?  Is this kind of life fair to Whisper or me?

Here at the ranch, horses that are sound get worked and horses that are worked get attention.  Whisper has, for much of her life with us, been relegated to a "safe" space and given a minimum level of attention.

For now, while I attempt to find clarity -- so I can be honest, genuine, thoughtful and caring in finding the right thing for Whisper and for me -- we'll continue to saddle and walk Whisper.  She's only been started back up three weeks yet it's apparent that she's elated to be working.  Her attitude is bright and she readily accepts saddling and light arena work.  The exercise keeps the swelling in the tendon sheath region down, too.  Decommisioning Whisper entirely feels wrong.  Defining a careful balance and determining limits seems right.

Jetblue and Whisper

Life is complicated.  A life with animals, my life, has always been about trying to find balance.  More often than not I've put the critters first, their needs always preceding mine and sometimes those of my children and husband.  Doing so has exacted a cost.

Wednesday, Dr. Barb Crabbe and Nikki James came to tend to Jetblue, to remove the surgical staples and ultrasound her vein near the still swollen catheter site.  Nikki commented that whoever put the staples in should have been a surgeon.  They were that straight.  The duo ultrasounded the still swollen catheter area, the area where there is a clot, and determined that the vein was not affected.  So far, Jetblue is recovering with flying colors.

While Barb and Nikki were here, I asked them to do a quick check of Whisper.  Nothing elaborate.  Just two more sets of eyes.  What they saw wasn't good.  Both of Whisper's rear tendon sheaths were swollen.  Nothing remarkable about that.  Whisper's rear tendon sheaths have been swollen at various times over the past two years and at some point early on, I even had Barb ultrasound them.  Back then, there was nothing more than swelling.  I've always doctored Whisper back to health but two years ago, I made the decision to decommission her.

Since then, she's woo-hoo'd in the pasture or paddock occasionally and the tendon sheaths have become swollen again.  Each time, I've medicated and wrapped the mare's legs until she recovered fully.
Wednesday, Barb initially thought the swelling was nothing more than cosmetic, but when she picked up Whisper's left rear leg and flexed it, the mare just about buckled to the ground.  In anticipation of the vet's visit, I hadn't given Whisper any pain medicine for two days.  She was obviously lame and Barb thought it was imperative to determine the source of the problem before asking Whisper to do any work. 

What that means is X-Rays and ultrasounds with a price tag of around a grand.  Barb told me she's confident that the findings will not be good.

So , as I have so many time with Whisper, I'm thinking about options. There are four approaches:

1. Get a diagnosis.
2. Return Whisper to stall and paddock rest only.
3. Continue a light conditioning program with the use of anti-inflammatories and wraps.
4. Euthanize Whisper.

It's a dilemma.

How to Tie the Mecate to the Bosal

When I got my first bosal and mecate, I was a total novice.  Lorenzo had worked with the hackamore before, but he didn't recall how the mecate was tied to the bosal.  So, I did a lot of research and managed to come up with step-by-step directions and some fairly decent diagrams.  Getting the mecate tied to the bosal was largely a trial and error type of process and I recall reading and re-reading those directions over and over.

Today, as I was learning more about bosals and mecates, I came across Texan Brent Graef's web site. 
Brent is a master rawhide craftsman as well as an accomplished horse trainer.  I can tell he's a fine teacher, too, by the wonderful video posted on his home page.  In it, Brent shows how to tie the mecate to the bosal and how to fit it properly to a horse.  Great, graphic, easy to understand stuff!  Check it out by clicking here:  http://www.brentgraef.com/rawhide_gear.php.

In the following photo of Whisper, I can see where she needs less wrap of the mecate around the bosal, allowing for more release / drop of the bosal when the reins are relaxed.

Whisper in the Hackamore (Bosal + Mecate)

For the first time since putting her back to work, Whisper's rear tendon sheaths were cool to the touch and there was enough definition to actually see the deep flexor tendon.  She seemed both flexible and pain-free with zero medication, so I'm hopeful that we'll be able to return her to work as long as we stick to a careful conditoning routine.  Here's a snapshot of Lorenzo and Whisper doing an easy trot with a little two-tracking:

Lorenzo and Whisper