I have a 27 year old thoroughbred gelding named Johnny. I got Johnny when I was 16, and brought him through college and to Ohio when I moved from Minnesota.
I've seen animals get old and die, and I know that's what's happening to Johnny. Some years ago he got EPM. It's gone, but he had residual damage that left him unridable. He was my best friend; he cared for me, loved me, took care of me, and was always, always, no matter what, there for me. Even when nobody else seemed to be.
These days, I've noticed him slowing down more and more. He probably has less than a year left. I've mostly been just feeding him and letting him be a horse in the pasture. I know he deserves a good retirement with his friends. But I think sometimes I forget that he needs time with all of his friends in his last months. Including me.
It's not easy for me. I can say what IS easy---just letting him hang out with Winsome and the two mares in the pasture all day, waiting for him to die. What isn't easy is actually spending time with him. The memories come back quickly, saturating every corner of my mind with the things we've done together, the times we've spent together, and the times he's been there for me when I felt like my world was falling apart. And that's what happened today.
I'd meant to take out Winsome, the two year old. But I had a pear and I knew Johnny liked pears, and besides, he was up at the barn when everyone else was far away, grazing. So I took him out. He came willingly, which is unusual for his stubborn self. He learned years and years before I owned him that if he just stands still, no amount of pulling can make me make him budge. So the fact that he came along so easily meant that he wanted to spend that time with me.
I got him out and tied him to the horse trailer, and started grooming him. Seeing how stiff and slowly he moved made me sad. I noticed just now much his topline had worsened---it had been probably a month since I'd really spent any time with him. He put his head down so I could comb out his forelock with my fingers, and he gave me a pleased look when I scratched his belly. He tried very hard to pick up his feet for me to pick them, although the residual damage from the EPM made it hard for him to lift one of his hind legs. Although I felt sad, I wasn't prepared to fall apart like I did.
I stood on the horse trailer to reach his back. It was at that moment, looking down at his old, swayed, bay back, once so sturdy and so well muscled and so conditioned from riding for hours every day, that I just lost it. I started crying so hard that I went blind from the tears; even now I am having a hard time typing thinking about it. His back, now so swayed and old, was still so ingrained in my memory that I would have recognized it anywhere. His once so beautiful, powerful, forgiving back. His back, which I rode bareback on for miles and miles. The view I had from there, looking up his neck to the tip of his ears, which stretched so far out in front of me. The feeling of safety and power and speed that I had...all of those things came back all at once and so quickly overwhelmed me that before I knew what had happened, I was sobbing hysterically, hugging my horse's back and stroking his mane. My best friend, my confidant...the truest, deepest love I have ever known for any living thing. My Johnny. My whole wide world when I was a teenager. My horse, who took me away when the world hurt too much for me to handle. My friend, who knew my deepest secrets and never told. My love, who trusted me no matter what, even when he was hurting and to him it probably made it seem like I was only hurting him worse. He needed me as much as I needed him, and when we both realized that, we were loyal only to eachother. I sincerely thought I would ride Johnny every day until he died. And I would have, if not for the EPM. He was my horse. He was one of those rare horses that you feel is truely yours. I've owned several horses. Johnny was truely all mine.
Winsome is 2, and he'll someday replace Johnny. I have a bond with Winsome unlike any horse I've ever known. I've raised Winsome from birth and he'll someday take Johnny's place in those respects. He can't replace Johnny's memories, and there are things that Johnny did for me that Winsome will never be able to do for me, although I don't doubt that Winsome will care for me in the future the way Johnny has in the past. I spend hours and hours every week with Winsome, just because I enjoy looking forward to our next 20 or more years together.
But today reminded me that even when you have new friends, it's so important not to forget about your old ones. They're the ones that have taken care of you and loved you for ever, no matter what. They've forgiven you over and over, even when you never forgave yourself. I don't love Winsome any less after that realization. I know one day he'll be the same old friend I'm talking about now. But I did reaize that I can't just stop loving those I had before. They mean just as much to me now as they ever did, even if I don't think about them as much. Because even though I thought I'd mentally prepared myself for Johnny's departure, I realized today that it's going to hurt more than I ever imagined.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Trying new things
It's been some time since I've updated.
One thing I've found that really has helped me with my confidence is finding the right saddle to ride in. I had been riding my paint mare in a child sized western saddle, and every time she did something silly I'd fall off. Last time I hurt my knee pretty badly. The seat size was fine for the saddle, but the stirrup length was just too short. So I did some research and bought an Abetta endurance saddle with a memory foam seat (Abetta Trinity). It's amazing how much that's helped! Not only do I feel secure, but it's super cushioned. I haven't come off once since I bought it. I left it at the trainer's stable for a week and it's too bad I'm not an Abetta rep, because I sold three of them. Just to brag a little, I didn't even feel my hear rate raise when I was trotting my horse around the arena and he tripped and fell to his knees. It just felt like I was going down an incline.
I really want to ride English, but right now I just need help getting my confidence back. My next transition will probably be to more of an English style endurance saddle. And as much as I love my limited edition Crosby saddle, I think I'm done using it. It's just too slick for the type of horses I ride.
So now I'm enjoying riding a lot more (doing more cantering and jumping), and have a lot more stability. I feel like I can't fall out of my saddle, which has done wonders for my ability. I didn't realize just how important this was, but it makes sense...I have a fear of falling off, and now I have something that helps me keep from falling off. Of course, that comes with lessons 2-3 days/week, too.
Well, off for the weekend. Keep riding!
One thing I've found that really has helped me with my confidence is finding the right saddle to ride in. I had been riding my paint mare in a child sized western saddle, and every time she did something silly I'd fall off. Last time I hurt my knee pretty badly. The seat size was fine for the saddle, but the stirrup length was just too short. So I did some research and bought an Abetta endurance saddle with a memory foam seat (Abetta Trinity). It's amazing how much that's helped! Not only do I feel secure, but it's super cushioned. I haven't come off once since I bought it. I left it at the trainer's stable for a week and it's too bad I'm not an Abetta rep, because I sold three of them. Just to brag a little, I didn't even feel my hear rate raise when I was trotting my horse around the arena and he tripped and fell to his knees. It just felt like I was going down an incline.
I really want to ride English, but right now I just need help getting my confidence back. My next transition will probably be to more of an English style endurance saddle. And as much as I love my limited edition Crosby saddle, I think I'm done using it. It's just too slick for the type of horses I ride.
So now I'm enjoying riding a lot more (doing more cantering and jumping), and have a lot more stability. I feel like I can't fall out of my saddle, which has done wonders for my ability. I didn't realize just how important this was, but it makes sense...I have a fear of falling off, and now I have something that helps me keep from falling off. Of course, that comes with lessons 2-3 days/week, too.
Well, off for the weekend. Keep riding!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mama's Boy
I have 6 horses of my own. They are: Colty, a coming-4 year old warmblood; Piper, a 14 year old Paint, Shortstiop, a 9 year old miniature horse, Acka, a 22 year old retired broodmare, Johnny, a 27 year old retired thoroughbred, and Winsome, my 2 year old thoroughbred gelding. This post is about Winsome, my baby. Winsome is out of Acka, who is a stakes-placed daughter of Ack Ack, and by the stallion Kela, who won $1.3 million on the track and placed in one of the breeder's cup races. Winsome is being kept as a riding horse---I just got too attached, so I took him to the Keeneland yearling auction last September and bought him out of his co-ownership agreement.
I had Winsome gelded yesterday, and also had his wolf teeth pulled. I was hoping they would do the new method where you just make a couple of small incisions and it takes care of itself over 2-3 months, but they did it the messy old fashioned way. The vets came out at 11 and he was standing and acting somewhat back to himself by 1. At 7 pm he was still dripping blood but the vets told me to wait another hour or so. By 8 pm the blood was coming out in two steady streams. It was pooling under his feet. He was acting normal, however. He didn't even get scared when the vets came out a second time, and normally he's pretty scared of strangers.
The vets came back out an anesthetized him a second time, this time putting in 15 stitches and 5 or 6 rolls of gauze. He was a wreck after that. I had to stay up all night with him, as he was just shaking and scared. He stayed right with me anywhere I moved in the stall, even though I could tel he was in immense pain. He was covered in sweat and terrified. If I didn't stand with his neck on my shoulder, one arm under his neck and supporting him and the other stroking him, he trembled like he was about to fall over. Even with that, he'd go through bouts of trembling harder and softer. Finally, he fell sleep with me holding his neck. That was well past 1 am. I guess since he's only 2 years old, he's still kind of a mama's boy. I wonder if I'm going to feel "empty nest syndrome" when he leaves for training next year. He's my youngest and he's also my baby.
He's doing a bit better today. He's moving around a bit more, although the right lower side of his face is paralyzed. I'm hoping that's just from swelling from the tooth pulling, because he's also having some trouble chewing. He will need to go back under general tomorrow to have the stitches removed, because he's not going to let me do any of that. I just want my colt back to normal. It's almost as painful for me to have to watch him hurt and be scared as it is for him to have to go through it.
I had Winsome gelded yesterday, and also had his wolf teeth pulled. I was hoping they would do the new method where you just make a couple of small incisions and it takes care of itself over 2-3 months, but they did it the messy old fashioned way. The vets came out at 11 and he was standing and acting somewhat back to himself by 1. At 7 pm he was still dripping blood but the vets told me to wait another hour or so. By 8 pm the blood was coming out in two steady streams. It was pooling under his feet. He was acting normal, however. He didn't even get scared when the vets came out a second time, and normally he's pretty scared of strangers.
The vets came back out an anesthetized him a second time, this time putting in 15 stitches and 5 or 6 rolls of gauze. He was a wreck after that. I had to stay up all night with him, as he was just shaking and scared. He stayed right with me anywhere I moved in the stall, even though I could tel he was in immense pain. He was covered in sweat and terrified. If I didn't stand with his neck on my shoulder, one arm under his neck and supporting him and the other stroking him, he trembled like he was about to fall over. Even with that, he'd go through bouts of trembling harder and softer. Finally, he fell sleep with me holding his neck. That was well past 1 am. I guess since he's only 2 years old, he's still kind of a mama's boy. I wonder if I'm going to feel "empty nest syndrome" when he leaves for training next year. He's my youngest and he's also my baby.
He's doing a bit better today. He's moving around a bit more, although the right lower side of his face is paralyzed. I'm hoping that's just from swelling from the tooth pulling, because he's also having some trouble chewing. He will need to go back under general tomorrow to have the stitches removed, because he's not going to let me do any of that. I just want my colt back to normal. It's almost as painful for me to have to watch him hurt and be scared as it is for him to have to go through it.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
In the beginning...
Inspired by Amanda Neal's blog, A Fat Girl & A Fat Horse, I thought it might help me with my personal issue with riding if I found a place to store my feelings and share my thoughts. No, I am not obese. And Amanda does a great job addressing the issue. What I have is different. I have a fear riding horses. Not the kind where I am scared to be around them or even scared to get on them or even walk or trot. In fact, I can even jump anything you can trot up to without any apprehension at all. It's something more deep rooted, and I'm hoping by sharing my feelings I can find support and perhaps even give support to others in similar situations.
I'd pondered the idea of a blog for some time, and even have had some ideas, but those ideas would take me a lot longer to do and are a lot more involved than just typing my feelings or inspirations. I realized that this is something I can share and I know I'm not alone. I've met people who are fearful of riding only because they're aware of their ignorance; they may love horses and admire their beautiful, but feel uneasy with handling an animal so powerful. And there are people like me, who used to be fearless until a bad riding accident wrecked that confidence.
So I will begin by telling you a little about me and how I came to be the way that I am. I am 27 years old; I grew up riding in Minnesota (first western because my mother used to train and ride western, then when I was 12 I switched to huntseat). I graduated with my undergrad degree in Animal Science from the University of Minnesota, and then went for my Master's degree in Veterinary Epidemiology at Ohio State University. I graduated and I am a professional. I didn't get my first horses until I was 16, when I sneaked behind my parent's back and got a job, selected a boarding stable, then got a vet check and coggins pulled on two horses that I volunteered with at a therapeutic riding program. Both horses had some health issues and one was unsuitable for the program due to his disposition (he was a hotter type thoroughbred), so they sold them to me for $630 for the both of them. My husband tells me that I was a rather naughty teenager, but to be honest, there are probably a lot worse things I could have gone behind my parent's back and done. My mother found out the day I bought the horses, and my father found out a short time later.
As I mentioned, I rode western as a small child then switched to English when I was 12, when I began taking lessons at Fortuna Farm, stable of the late and great Max Von Blucher, founder of the AHHA and trainer of the champion Holsteiner stallion, Staccato. I rode many of their lesson horses and cherish those memories still today. They taught me to become a very good equitation rider, but I got no instruction on how to handle a horse that misbehaved. I spent years thinking "I will never fall off," and with so many people telling me what an excellent rider I was, I began to think I really was quite an excellent equestrianne.
When I was 15, I got on a friend's racehorse who'd just come off the track a couple days before. I'd ridden ex-racers before, but not anything so fresh off the track. He was a good boy, and for the first twenty minutes he did exactly what I asked. When he started to get a bit fast I applied steady pressure to the reins (I'd never been taught to half-halt!) and he took off, trying to reach the finish line. He got to the end of the arena, sat down, and I flew up and over. I got tangled in the reins and was drug for a bit before he kicked me in the head (shattered my velvet show helmet) and stepped on my ribcage, breaking 6 ribs multiple times and collapsing my lung. Ouch.
I was determined to ride again, so after a week in the ICU and 5 weeks of rest at home I bit the inside of my cheeks during the doctor's follow-up, smiled as hard as I could, and pretended it was not at all painful for me to bend or move to the side. He let me start riding again, and I began riding a 4 year old paint mare named Nada (for Nadabigenufspot...she didn't color out). I really enjoyed her and my mother paid for a month's lease, with the conditions that if she passed her vet exam and we did well for the month she would buy her for me. She was a very fun horse and I enjoyed her very much, up until the day she failed her vet exam (trotted off lame at the first flexation test) and the subsequent day, when I came out to ride her and she went a bit crazy, dumping me 3 times and breaking two fingers and my wrist (all the while, my mom is telling me to get back on the horse). Finally, with my hands unable to function, and my mother trying to hold the horse down from bucking and rearing on one side (lounge line slipped to the bit), and the horse's owner doing the same on the other side, and me pleading with my mom that I wanted to get off, she let me. Immediately, she dumped her owner, who started crying and saying she'd never done that before (and I believe her, so was so upset). I came back one more time at the end of my lease just to say goodbye. I don't know what happened to the mare. And after that, I decided I still wanted a horse, but instead I'd do halter horses. My mom wasn't crazy with the idea and said I couldn't have a horse if I wasn't going to ride it.
So that's how it started, Obviously, I started riding again and got dumped again, and the older I get the longer the pain is and the more perminant damage it does. I've broken a lot of bones and had stitches twice. But I'm determined to keep trying. I have been taking riding lessons for years and I keep my horses in training with a professional trainer. I have a 4 year old colt who's been in training for the past year that I raised since birth that I'm determined to grow to love riding as much as I love just being with him. So I'm going to cross my finders and try to make it happen.
I'd pondered the idea of a blog for some time, and even have had some ideas, but those ideas would take me a lot longer to do and are a lot more involved than just typing my feelings or inspirations. I realized that this is something I can share and I know I'm not alone. I've met people who are fearful of riding only because they're aware of their ignorance; they may love horses and admire their beautiful, but feel uneasy with handling an animal so powerful. And there are people like me, who used to be fearless until a bad riding accident wrecked that confidence.
So I will begin by telling you a little about me and how I came to be the way that I am. I am 27 years old; I grew up riding in Minnesota (first western because my mother used to train and ride western, then when I was 12 I switched to huntseat). I graduated with my undergrad degree in Animal Science from the University of Minnesota, and then went for my Master's degree in Veterinary Epidemiology at Ohio State University. I graduated and I am a professional. I didn't get my first horses until I was 16, when I sneaked behind my parent's back and got a job, selected a boarding stable, then got a vet check and coggins pulled on two horses that I volunteered with at a therapeutic riding program. Both horses had some health issues and one was unsuitable for the program due to his disposition (he was a hotter type thoroughbred), so they sold them to me for $630 for the both of them. My husband tells me that I was a rather naughty teenager, but to be honest, there are probably a lot worse things I could have gone behind my parent's back and done. My mother found out the day I bought the horses, and my father found out a short time later.
As I mentioned, I rode western as a small child then switched to English when I was 12, when I began taking lessons at Fortuna Farm, stable of the late and great Max Von Blucher, founder of the AHHA and trainer of the champion Holsteiner stallion, Staccato. I rode many of their lesson horses and cherish those memories still today. They taught me to become a very good equitation rider, but I got no instruction on how to handle a horse that misbehaved. I spent years thinking "I will never fall off," and with so many people telling me what an excellent rider I was, I began to think I really was quite an excellent equestrianne.
When I was 15, I got on a friend's racehorse who'd just come off the track a couple days before. I'd ridden ex-racers before, but not anything so fresh off the track. He was a good boy, and for the first twenty minutes he did exactly what I asked. When he started to get a bit fast I applied steady pressure to the reins (I'd never been taught to half-halt!) and he took off, trying to reach the finish line. He got to the end of the arena, sat down, and I flew up and over. I got tangled in the reins and was drug for a bit before he kicked me in the head (shattered my velvet show helmet) and stepped on my ribcage, breaking 6 ribs multiple times and collapsing my lung. Ouch.
I was determined to ride again, so after a week in the ICU and 5 weeks of rest at home I bit the inside of my cheeks during the doctor's follow-up, smiled as hard as I could, and pretended it was not at all painful for me to bend or move to the side. He let me start riding again, and I began riding a 4 year old paint mare named Nada (for Nadabigenufspot...she didn't color out). I really enjoyed her and my mother paid for a month's lease, with the conditions that if she passed her vet exam and we did well for the month she would buy her for me. She was a very fun horse and I enjoyed her very much, up until the day she failed her vet exam (trotted off lame at the first flexation test) and the subsequent day, when I came out to ride her and she went a bit crazy, dumping me 3 times and breaking two fingers and my wrist (all the while, my mom is telling me to get back on the horse). Finally, with my hands unable to function, and my mother trying to hold the horse down from bucking and rearing on one side (lounge line slipped to the bit), and the horse's owner doing the same on the other side, and me pleading with my mom that I wanted to get off, she let me. Immediately, she dumped her owner, who started crying and saying she'd never done that before (and I believe her, so was so upset). I came back one more time at the end of my lease just to say goodbye. I don't know what happened to the mare. And after that, I decided I still wanted a horse, but instead I'd do halter horses. My mom wasn't crazy with the idea and said I couldn't have a horse if I wasn't going to ride it.
So that's how it started, Obviously, I started riding again and got dumped again, and the older I get the longer the pain is and the more perminant damage it does. I've broken a lot of bones and had stitches twice. But I'm determined to keep trying. I have been taking riding lessons for years and I keep my horses in training with a professional trainer. I have a 4 year old colt who's been in training for the past year that I raised since birth that I'm determined to grow to love riding as much as I love just being with him. So I'm going to cross my finders and try to make it happen.
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