Calming Down A Little and What the Vet Said

So yesterday I was kind of in a tizzy over all my animals falling apart.  Well Mason and Smarty are healing up just fine. So that is 2 less to fret over.

Butch has yet another lesion and a vet visit is inevitable.  But then Butch is also very old, and we have known for a long time that the end was not to far off for him.  Perhaps there is something to do be done, but if not, then it is what it is.  From the day I brought him home, I knew we would not have him for years and years, in fact we have had him much longer than I expected. We have done well by him, he has had a wonderful life with us, being spoiled rotten on a daily basis.  No I am not putting him in the ground yet, I'm just saying I have come to terms with how things are.  Fretting isn't going fix anything.

The vet visit went well and I can say I was so proud of my girl. She was a perfect doll for it all, even the vet said so.   We got some definite answers on some things, and some slightly less definitive answers on others, but we have a plan and I'm going to follow it.

Dr. R, started from scratch.  I had emailed her all of Sassy's history, but since we had gone in so many directions with her, we both felt that a fresh start was in order.  She began by watching her move and could see that she was clearly worse on the left than the right, but that there is lameness on both. Although on the straight away, she was sound.  She did a flexion test on both with no changes, although Sassy did resist the flexion more on the left.

Then she did nerve block.  She started with the outside left and we saw some improvement. Then she did the outside right with out much change. Then she did the inside left and the inside right. By time she was done Sassy was moving at least 90% better.  She attributed the other 10 % to her thinner soles and the terrain that she was moving on.  I had to agree with her on that because she would move perfect for several strides and then take a short step then move good again.

She isolated the pain to her heels, which we pretty much knew already.

Then she did the xrays.  There was no sign of the former coffin bone issue, so it has healed.  She showed us some very mild changes of her navicular bone.  Not the same changes that the last vet showed me, but they are there.  She said that she feels that this is the cause of her pain.

She gave me the option of doing the MRI, but also warned that because this has been a chronic issue, and not an acute issue, the treatment plan will most likely be the same.

Here is what we are going to do.  She wants me to take her to a specific farrier (not the same one who came to trim last time) who she feels has the correct experience to help her.  He is local so that is helpful.  She wants to see what the corrective shoeing does for her.  We may end up adding in some injections into her bursa depending on what we see with the shoeing.  She also wants her on a shorter farrier cycle. She says 8 weeks is too long, 5 weeks tops is what she needs. She also said that an anti-inflammatory dose of bute for a while (2 grams rather than 4) would be a good thing. Especially until she gets her corrective shoes.

She wants me to put her on injectable joint supplements, rather than oral, so that she gets an exact dose. Unfortunately with my job/financial situation, for now we will have to keep with the oral. But of course she said that Oral is better than nothing, so as soon as I can I will be getting some Cosequin. It is still expensive, but from the research I have done and the reviews, it seems to be my best choice for now.  I'm hoping I can get it at a discount rate at work....could I be so lucky?

If the shoeing and supplements don't make any difference, then we can go back to the MRI option. Although truthfully if it doesn't work, I will probably just put her down. I have to draw the line somewhere, and that is going to be it.

We also discussed Danny and his weight loss. She told me not to worry too much yet. She assured me that the move and extreme temperature changes effect an older horse a lot more than the younger ones. She told me I need to micro manage his food intake, keeping him on his own at feeding time to make sure he is getting all of his food. I have put him back on the Platinum performance and she said to keep him on that along with the senior feed. Then she said that even though he just had his teeth checked in April, and they were ok, to go ahead and get them floated asap.  She also said that she felt that he would be picking up very soon.  She said that a lot of older horses really flourish in the fall here, so we will see. I set him up in his own stall yesterday and he is just going to have to deal with it. He gets time out with Trax every day in the pasture, but he is going to have to be stalled by himself.

All in all she was very nice, she explained things on the xrays very well, made sure we didn't have any questions, and once again gave me some hope. We did discuss the option of doing a nervectomy, but I didn't like that plan.  She didn't either.  I liked though, that we discussed all the different options, and she was great about "whatever you want to do, we will do".

I am always afraid that my horses are overweight, but she said that Sassy is a perfect 5 and there is absolutely no laminitis at all going on. In fact, she said that everything in her xrays look fabulous except for those very minor navicular changes and her thin soles and under run heels.

Now after reading back over all of this, I recognize that corrective shoeing isn't going to heal her.  At this point I just don't want her to be in pain and I don't know what else to do except follow the vets instructions and see what happens. I know that there are people who can heal horses like this with the right barefoot trims and stuff. But I am not that person, I don't know anyone who is, so for now I will work with what I have.

Right now her and the King of the Fatties are out there wandering the property eating all the grass grown up around the trees.  They seem to be having a great time...oops no sooner did I type that, but TC came in and told me to go catch my horse. Seems Sassy went under my rope gate and out to the road.   You know what they say about the grass always being greener.  Now she is out puddle jumping in the arena. Digging in the water and just being her silly old self.

TC wants to go up to Globe today, so it is time for me to post this and get all my ponies back in their "homes" for the day.

Fear- Random 5 Friday

I am fearful today.

1. Danny is losing weight rapidly and it scares me.

2. Sassy's vet visit is today, and I am worried what we will find.

3. Butch is erupting in lesions around all his mucus membranes, that worries me too. I suspect it is either cancer or canine lupus.

4. Both Mason and Smarty Pants have either been bit by something or gotten something under their skin which has left an open wound. I started treating with Vetrycin last night, along with some bitter yuck to keep them from licking.  But I fear another vet bill is on its way.

5. I am still only working part time, not getting enough hours, cannot seem to find a second part time job that does not involve telemarketing (which I will do if I have too) and my animals are all falling apart.  I am afraid I am going to have to start selling stuff off to stay afloat. Meaning my car, my artwork collection, any antiques I have that are worth anything.


There is my random five....not all that random after all I guess.

Linking up with Nancy at http://www.aruraljournal.com/

To big for his britches

Last night I rode Killian again.  He hates being ridden, I can tell. He does everything he can to get out of it.  Like tries to run me into the fence, takes control and heads back to the gate on his own, you know, bad horse things like that.

We worked on his manners a lot.  We worked on standing still while mounting. We worked on remembering who is actually in charge, and we worked on softening.  He is like a giant steel gun boat, with about that type of maneuverability.  Basically none.

I worked on letting my air so he would relax, he didn't.  I tried serpentine's, he did them but not very well.  I tried trotting in a straight line while asking him to flex at the jaw...he almost gave on that one.

Then Simon came out after football, still in his pads and stuff, and ran from one end of the arena to the other. As Killian and I stood there an watched him I could feel the tension in Killian building until he was literally trembling.  I don't know why that bothered him so much.  It was as if he wasn't sure what Simon was even though he started at our side, ran to the opposite end of the arena and then ran back. The minute he got closer, Killian relaxed as if to say, "Oh it's just the kid"  I don't know. It was odd.

After that we did some loping.

All I wanted to do was lope in a couple of circles. Circles the size of my own choosing.  All Killian wanted to do was lope to the gate.  I wanted a continuous lope, he wanted to trot lope trot.  His fast trot is so bone jarring I could hear my spine crunching with each step.

I did not have spurs on so my only tools were my legs and smooches.  I was using some roping reins, so I didn't even have a rein end to smack him with...he needed to be smacked though. There will be some tack changes before we ride again.

We were loping (trying) to the left, he would pick up the left lead, then head straight for the fence even though I was turning him with my leg and his head.  He flat out ignored me.  The impending fence would cause him to slow to the trot. I'd smooch him back up to a lope, he'd leave on the right lead, which would keep him from being able to smoothly make the circle.

The word awful doesn't even begin to describe how that gait feels.

Finally he gave me one full circle of my choosing (on the wrong lead) to the left.  I took him to the center and we rested. I got off and called it done.

I let him cool down some and then hosed him down. He was pretty sweaty and really tired, but it is good for him.  I think though that we will start doing some round pen work first with him before each ride.  He has gotten to be a little too big for his britches.

I wanted to ride Trax this morning, but I'm still pretty sore from riding last night.  It should not hurt that much to ride a horse. Especially one that is 17 and "very well broke."  He has lost his status as my "go to" horse.

His Mothers Son

Today after doing a bit of running in town, I was sitting in the back yard enjoying the cooler than usual temps.  Simon had been out there with me, messing with his gold panning stuff, but then he wasn't.  I wasn't really paying attention to where he went off to, in fact I wasn't even totally aware that he was gone.

TC came out and told me to tell Simon to mow the lawn this evening.  I assured him I would after clarifying that "this evening" did not mean "right this minute" but did in fact mean "before dark"  Communication like this is vital in our house.  It is never safe to assume what TC means.  You always want to clarify. Which isn't to say that he is a tyrant or anything like that. But being an old school, small town, Wyomingite, his definition of phrases are not always the same as mine. It is so much easier to avoid an argument by simply asking him to clarify.

Anyway, I knew I had not yet picked up the morning dog poo (even though it was now pushing 5 pm- Hey its Sunday, I can slack a little!) So I did that, put some rose food on my babies and then sat down for a minute waiting for the boy to reappear.

I waited.

And I waited.

Finally I came in to see if he was in his room.

He was not.

I immediately figured out where he was.

Across the road that boarders the back side of our property is a large desert area. It is fenced off and from what I understand, privately owned.  There is a gate, and one of my neighbors has possession of the key so that people can ride their horses there, but other than that your only way in is on foot.  Simon has recently discovered that not only is there good sand for gold hunting out there, there are also "treasures".

So I pulled on some boots and headed out to find him.  I walked out to where I suspected he would be, and I called and called.  There was no sign of him.  Not even a foot print.

I was getting a bit nervous.  I began asking myself what kind of mother doesn't think to pay attention to where her son is going?  What kind of mother doesn't think to tell her son not to just wander off to the desert without telling some one?  Granted he is 14, but still, we should have rules, and I should have noticed that he was leaving.

I totally suck!

I walked North just a tad, calling his name as loud as I could. Still nothing.

I walked South, still nothing.

I walked back home and went to get my car.  The battery was dead.

Great! My son is going to die in the desert from a snake bite because I couldn't get to him in time over a dead battery.

I took TC's flatbed and drove up our road, across the back road and then in the borrow ditch between the road and the fence and I put it first and let er coast while I scanned what I could see of the horizon.

I found myself seriously wishing that I was on horse back, for the higher vantage point and the ability to cover ground faster. Not to mention four-hoof-drive.

I kept calling his name, feeling quite sick to my stomach now.  The sky was getting grayer and I was worried.

Suddenly he pops out from behind some bushes.  Not to scare me but because he just happened to be slipping through the fence at that time.  He had an old worn out motorcycle tire on his shoulder, a cow horn and piece of hide in his hand, and a out of production beer bottle in his pocket.

I seriously wanted to jump his case and forbid him from ever going into the desert again. But I easily resisted that urge.  I wanted to be mad but I couldn't.

I think a large part of that was some weird misplaced sense of pride.

Let me explain.

As a young girl I had a terrible habit of wandering off.  I have always been an explore at heart I think. Or perhaps a gypsy, I don't know.  I can't even begin to tell you how many times my mom was ready to call the police because she thought I was gone for good. This was usually just as I came home completely oblivious to how long I had been gone, or that anyone might have been worried about me.  Not once was I ever lost.  I always knew my way home, and just didn't understand what all the fuss was about. I started this when I was in about 1st grade, and it continued all the way up into my adult years.   It truly has only been in the last 10 or 15 years that I finally started making sure some one knows where I am. Plus I am not as physically fit as I was then so I tend not to walk off as much.

Being a desert dweller most of my life, I totally get how easily he could just be having the time of his life wandering through the desert, picking up rusty treasures, cool rocks, or what ever.  It is the best way to lose yourself, and find yourself all at the same time.

But things have changed in the desert in the last 15 years.  It isn't always quite as safe as it used to be.  Plus he isn't from here.  I mean he is, but he was young when he left, so it is a little easier to get lost.

So we made new rules.  No desert walks without letting us know when and where he is going. No desert walks without a walkie talkie. (set to a prearranged channel) or cell phone. (preferably a cell)  No desert walks without a stick and a knife.

Okay and here is the clincher. When he came in the house to show TC his treasures, I was grinning ear to ear, because lets face it, for the first time in years I will have some one to go rock hunting with me!!!

He is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, his mothers son!

Of Old Men and Great Horse Stories

At my job I am surrounded by youngsters.  They are good kids and I like most of them very much.  They are polite and hard working, and just down right fun to be around.   One of them got a visit last night from his Papaw and Nanna.  

It was the highlight of my evening.

Youngster's Papaw, came to my register, and standing next to me was also his great niece (who also works there). So as she spoke with his wife, he and I chatted.  Very quickly we were deeply engaged in a wonderful conversation about what is clearly his favorite topic in the world.

Horses.

Luckily, that is also my favorite topic in the world as well.

Papaw is a retired roper.  From the sounds of it, he is/was just an amateur, but an amateur with skill.  Even more important, Papaw is a horseman.  He talked about the old cowboys who taught him how to rope. Not just rope the easy steers, but to rope those "trashy steers" that no one else could hit.  Not only did he learn how to toss a loop but he learned how to push a loop with the palm of his hand, and when to use that little trick, in just the right situation.  He learned how to make that rope do his bidding, with the flick of a wrist or just the right little twist to one side or the other.

When he spoke of roping it was very reminiscent of the way Michael Johnson speaks of roping in Healing Shine.  It was with an adoration that one would speak of a first kiss, or a first love. I have never been into roping.  I always said I could care less to ever learn how to rope.  But listening to these men speak of it...I don't know...it makes me feel a little differently about it all.  To have that passion and that skill.  It must be a beautiful feeling.

He told me about his favorite horses of his past.  The ones he raised and trained from a colt.  He talked about ground work and lunge lines and about how he never once put a tie down on any of horses.  He talked of how it was vital to him to always run on a loose rein, and he never wore spurs.  Yet he said he rarely ever got out run by a steer.  His horses liked to rope, and that is how it is supposed to be.

He also told me a story about a time when he was the working the chute.  A man came into the head box on a horse that was just lathered head to toe. The man (and I use the term lightly) had been out warming up and spurring the crap out of his horse.  When he wasn't spurring him, he was beating him over the head with the rope.  One can only assume that he was trying to get the poor horses adrenaline up to have a fast run. Papaw watched this for a minute and then simply walked away.  He refused to work the chute for someone who would treat an animal like that. Especially since (he said) the horse was not doing anything wrong.  It was that way the entire night. If that fool came to the box. Papaw walked away.  He told me that he has regretted to this very day, that he did not simply offer to buy the horse from the man. Clearly the man didn't think the horse was doing anything right, so he probably would have been happy to have the cash.

Of course I shared a little of my story with Trax.  I told him of his history, about our first show, and how I failed my horse. I'll admit in doing so, I got a little teary eyed. I honestly shared my shame at my lack of understanding for what Trax needed.  I don't know why, but I told him the whole story, what I did wrong, what I did right, how it made me feel, and what I am trying to accomplish now.  I mean I didn't know this old man from Adam, but here I was spilling my guts to him over the register counter.

Do you want to know what he said to me when I was done and tears were running down my face?

He said, "It's okay, we all make mistakes, but you are learning from them and your boy knows that. He will keep trying for you because he knows that you are trying for him."  He was teary eyed too. (I swear it's true)

Then he told me another story.  This one was beautiful.

He told me about his best horse ever, Sonny.  He was a big horse of great breeding.  He had him out at one of the local roping competitions and doing pretty well.  While he was in between turns an old man in bib overalls and a plaid shirt came up and spoke to him. He had a piece of straw sticking out one side of his mouth.

The old man said, "That's a nice horse you got there son."

Papaw said, "Why thank you."

"Do you know why he does so well for you?"

"Because I trained him well?"

The old man smiled, "Well that too, but no. There is another reason."

"What's that?" Papaw asked.

"He loves you. That horse loves you and he wants to please you.  You love him too don't you?"

"Why yes, yes I do."

Then they went on to discuss the special love between a man (or woman) and his horse.

The old man said to him,  "If a man and a woman could love each other like that, there would never be divorce, and it would be a relationship made in heaven."

Papaw agreed, and just then someone called to him and asked him to herd a steer for them.  When he went back to finish the conversation the old man was gone.  No one he asked knew who the man was, or where he had come from. It was as if he had just vanished as quickly as he appeared.

Papaw said to me, "I think that man was an angel."

Yup, we were both teary eyed again.

Finally I stopped to look at the clock. Holy Moly!  Over half an hour had gone by in a flash!  Luckily it was so close to closing time, not a single person had come to the register in that time.

I said, "Well I'd best let you folks on your way."

His wife said, "Thank you!  He'd be here all night if you let him."

I smiled and thought to myself...me too! 

This was a man that is passionate about the relationship he has with his equine brothers.  He cares about how they feel, and that they are treated well.  He has a couple of rescue's now.  He no longer rides, but he still loves his horses (and the donkey and the mule which he rescued and cares for) and appreciates them for the individuals that they are.  Even more important, he is passing his passion on to his grandson as well.

I want to be like him.

Now Here is Something You Don't See Everyday

Not at my house anyways....

One Horse

Two Horse

Three Horse

Four

All four horses in the pasture together

No morning would be complete without the gratuitous shot of Danny's gorgeous color. 

One more time

I have contacted a local vet and am taking Sassy in next week.  I have decided to take one more shot at getting an accurate diagnosis, and trying to heal her.  This will be the last time. I just cannot do this anymore. After hearing the entire story and seeing a couple of the past xrays, the vet did not seem real confident about the outcome of this situation.  So I am preparing myself for the decision I suspect I am going to have to make soon.

In other news, the new job is going ok.  Even the stern old cowboy guy seems to sort of not hate me.  LOL
I am learning the computer system and learning what products are where and what the products are.  In all the years that I have been buying horse feed, I knew there were so many, but to this day I don't know why one is better or worse than the other.  That is my goal. To learn these things.

I rode the King of the Fatties last night. That would be Killian.  As I brushed and saddled him he turned and looked at me and the words were clearly written on his face.

"Why are you doing this after dark?  You know there are monsters in the dark. We DO NOT ride after dark!"

He acted quite foolish to start, running around like a mad man, refusing to stop, refusing to turn, refusing to do anything but go where he wanted and drag me along with him.  It was sooooo not like him. I guess he was trying to convince me that this was in fact, a very bad idea.

But my foolishness outlasted his, and we pushed on. If he wanted to go every which way, we did just that.  We did so many serpentine's and pretty soon he was thrilled to go in a straight line. I asked him to trot and he did the not quite a canter trot, which I hate, but I rode it out and kept him going until he finally settled down into a nice easy trot.  And then we trotted more...and more....and more, until the sweat ran down his sides and onto the ground.

Killian is getting man boobs.  Danny has man boobs, but at his age has earned the right to have them.  Killian is still a bit young for man boobs, and so we will be building them into muscle...by trotting.  Lots and lots of trotting.  He is so spoiled rotten from just hanging out in the pasture, pushing Sassy around and making mean faces at Danny.  Little does he know vacation time is over.

This morning I rode Trax.  He has a thing where he doesn't want to lunge to the left at a lope.  so we worked on that.  We lunged until he was soft in both directions. You know, back how he used to be.  Then we rode.  We did very little fancy stuff, just loped circles until they became easy circles. We did lots of trotting while flexing towards the fence. We did this back and forth until I could get him to flex with just the slightest touch of the rein.

At one point I looked over towards Danny's pen and noticed it was empty. It seems as though someone forgot to latch it when removing Trax.  If I catch that person I will kick her butt!

So Trax and I rode towards the arena gate. He moved right into position to open it but then did not want to stick around to close it.  Since I knew we were coming back and I needed to go find Danny, I let it go...this time.

We found Danny peacefully grazing out in the long grass by the road.  I didn't think he'd really go anywhere but then decided I didn't want to risk him getting hit by a car, so we herded him back in to his "home", and then went back to work.

This time I made Trax close the gate, and then we took some time to work on our rope gate.  He kind of relapsed a little, not being afraid, but just being stubborn, so we kept at it, till he executed perfectly on each side.

That got him a nice cool hose down (which he has decided that he loves now) and some pasture time.  He and Danny are out there right now.

Now I get to go do domestic stuff, but first I shall go check out some hay sources.  Much more fun that domestic crap!