Welcome Back, Vincent Van Versa

A year ago I started this blog to track the progress of my goofy gelding and his injury. At first we thought he had contracted EPM, a neurological disease that can prove fatal. But after test and a trip to Auburn University Large Animal Hospital, it was discovered he actually had terrible injuries to both suspensory tendons in his back left leg and lesions were beginning to develop in the right leg as well.

After PRP injections to both legs, we decided to let Vince be a lazy horse for a least one year. The problem with tendon injuries is that you cannot just sonogram the legs. Since the damage is internal, it takes a high powered machine to see inside the tendon bundles. When Vince had his last checkup at Auburn in May of 2012, they said he might never be sound again, and their suggestion was to cut the nerves to the tendon, since what he was experiencing was phantom pain.

I don't agree with cutting nerve to solve a problem not knowing if that action may itself cause bigger problems. So since last year, my goofball has been eating and lazing about tearing about stall walls with his cribbing and enjoying treats and hand walking with me every weekend.

He lost some weight in December, but we replaced his feed bag with a pan and changed his feed to a higher fat content and he has plumped back up. The muscles are flabby, but a few weeks of good, steady riding with help them tone back up. Most important, his attitude has improved.

When I got to the barn our trainer said to me, "I hope you are going to play with your boy, because he's been a real turd this week lunging at people." When I got to his stall, I knew he was angry with me for missing two weeks in a row because all he would show me was his butt! However, when I pulled the giant carrot from my pocket I suddenly became his best friend.

On the wet walk up to the main barn, he stayed right at my side instead of wandering off to eat the grass. All the way to the barn he stayed with me. Placing his Iconoclast Rehab Boots on, we took him to the arena, intending to put him on the line and see what happened.

Oh. My. God. He was all get up and haul ass! Vince tore up the arena with his prancing and leaping and bucking for at least fifteen minutes. Then his lack of conditioning caught up with him, and the sides started heaving and he sauntered over to my side with a "how was that Mom?" look on his gorgeous face.

My boy is healthy, and I intend to keep him that way for a long time!

Falling Back in Love

It's been three months since I last posted on Vince and our daily struggles. Spark Plug's death, coming so soon after Sneaky, took the wind out of our sails. Going to the barn, missing those faces, knowing we did everything we could to save him only to be defeated by the long term effects of starvation brought all of us to a hard place. The other horses felt the change just as we did. These are highly intelligent, feeling, caring, creatures and they have been in their own form of mourning for the loss of members of their herd.

Summer down here was hard - hot, humid, steamy. The horses stayed in their stalls during the day, heads low as they slowly munched hay to expend as little energy as possible in the stifling Georgia heat. At night they walked through their pastures, dark shadows voyaging from round bale to water trough to round bale in the still night air. With little rainfall and high temperatures for weeks on end, it was hard to keep spirits up and weight on all our harder keepers.

There were some bright spots. Thanks for a generous private donation to BSRA, we now have a tractor with bush hog to help with manure management and pasture maintenance. Dozer, another of the Paulding Super 6 rescues, continues to improve and is now under lease to one of our students, working on their first level dressage test. They make a great pair. Maple's foot, after the procedure at Auburn Vet School, has healed well and she is back on turnout with several of our older bachelor geldings. Maple is quite the flirt and the old men are eating it up. And my grumpy gelding himself has finally found a herd group to fit into.

But for every good moment there have been the bad, the sad, and the frustrating. Katie, the OTTB who had her teeth fixed earlier in the year, fell in the trailer coming home from a show and skinned her hip. Mr. Big went home to his owner for a visit, leaving another space in our hearts. And Paulding Super 6 horse, Daisy, was discovered one morning with an arrow wound in her hip, the apparent victim of poachers looking for the deer herd on our property. To top off the summer, super pony Grits, after a high fever with no results on his blood work went to Auburn where it was discovered he has the flu and a torn stifle ligament.

So, summer is ending and fall is just around the corner. I'm ready for a change. The horses are ready too. Looking forward to cooler days, longer rides, and a little slower pace for everything. Of course, with horses I am sure it's just a matter of time until somebody does something and the whole show will start all over again.

Did Anyone Capture That On Camera?

I realize I left off the second day of the Rob Gage clinic from last weekend, but that is because we didn't actually spend much of the second day at the barn. My darling daughter ended up in the Cartersville Emergency Room so I missed all the other divisions after hers. I have heard many people comment on the wonderful things the learned from Mr. Gage. But that's boring, let's talk about M and her adventures in jumping.

Since my darling daughter began riding at the age of 8, I have always worried about her choice of discipline. I grew up in a Western saddle, all four feet on the ground loping long and low and careful. When she decided that hunter jumper was her goal I cringed a little, smiled wide and dived in with both feet. While most of her lessons and shows have been uneventful, that doesn't mean she's never had a fall. She has had several.

The first was a wild thing who was walking along fine then decided to buck M through the air and onto her chest. A hyper extended neck and tender ribs were aggravated three days later when a pony names Sparkles spooked over nothing and pitched her onto the sand. With Penny, she has fallen but nothing too severe. But never off Ara Bella, not until last Sunday morning.

Saturday M and Ara Bella had been recipients of Mr. Gage's praise. Sunday did not start quite as well. Just over halfway through, Bella ducked to the right just before an oxer and darling daughter twisted to the left. I'm not quite sure how to describe what happened except to say, she ended up hanging over the jump like a gymnast on the uneven bars; her left wrist was between her slight body and the hard wooden rail. Laughter over the unladylike position was soon replaced with tears as the blood began flowing again through the wrist.

Handing Bella over to one of the girls, we drove to the closest emergency room, the hospital in Cartersville. It was an experience. Enough said. After three hours we were on our way, ready for a long afternoon putting a new garden in.

Working with Judge My Ride for this clinic was amazing, and I hope the first of many such events at our facility. This would not have gone as smoothly with the priceless assistance of several BSRA families. Here are a few I would like to single out:
The Payne Family; The Wood Family, A.J. Martin; The Malik Family; Naomi Katz; Sadie Arnold; The Eiselle Family; The Johnson Family; The Berry Family; Doug's Restaurant in Emerson; all our volunteers and students and friends as well. Plus anyone else I might have forgotten. Sorry - my memeory isn't what it used to be.

On that note let me just remind everyone, Blue Skies Riding Academy, Inc located in Emerson, GA is a 501(c)3 non-profit and we survive on personal and corporate donations to provide the food, shelter, shoes, medical care, dental care and training of our rescues. If you would like to contribute we have a paypal account reachable through our website: www.blueskiesridingacademy.com.

Catching Up With My Friends

I hadn't been out to the barn for almost two weeks until yesterday. Unfortunately, I do have a real job which allows my to have my horses and spring is one of my busier seasons. So when I arrived for my normal barn day I had almost forgotten we had a schooling show on the books. Oh well, there is nothing happier than the sound of happy people around the horses. Since we had visitors from another barn, several people wanted to know more about our rescue program.

Nineteen months ago BSRA joined with several other mid-Atlantic rescues to save horses from a supposed rescue in West Virignia. The lucky three who came home to Georgia that September day were Ella Grace, Sterling, and Connor. I have written quite a bit on our newest horses, but tonight I want to brag on the West Virginia 3.

Arriving at the barn the first morning the 3 were at BSRA I wasn't truly prepared for the emotionally diverse animals we had been entrusted with. Connor was a baby, around eighteen months old and unattached to the others. He accepted the alfalfa tea and hay offered with all the manners of one who had been kicked down the seniority line. Only after noting that Sterling and Ella Grace had their own piles to eat from did he settle in. Connor's life hasn't been blessed, ten months ago he impaled his chest on a fence post. The deep, life threatening wound healed slowly, keeping Connor stall bound for almost six months with minimal hand walking. Too much activity might open the wound again and set his recovery back.

To help Connor with his 'imprisonment', Sterling was voted his steady friend. When Stir-fried arrived he was more than three hundreds pounds underweight, a two year old with a vicious cribbing problem. A crippling dependency on Ella Grace made it hard to get the scrawny Thoroughbred into a stall, but soon he began eating and growing, a process which he has repeated in many cycles, now standing more than 16 hands and still cribbing despite collars, herbs, special hay nets and grazing muzzles. While never a speed demon, Sterling is graceful, his long legs delicate at the trot, and his foster mother loves him with a ferocity and depth of heart this wonder pony needed.

Ella Grace, the mother of the West Virginia 3, is a twenty-something Thoroughbred who was never raced, never tattooed. Feminine and lovely she endured the obsessive Sterling and worried over Connor until she was slowly worked into the mare herd. She moved smoothly and can jump cross rails with the grace her names implies. But she isn't truly a lesson girl, Ella misses a special person to care for her. While several of our riders love Ella, so far there hasn't been just one for this beautiful little mare.

Three lives, intersected and joined by the whims of men, to be on that farm at that time to be placed in our care. One mare, two geldings, three stories - how far they have come since that first Saturday when I met them. Ella has been in the program and is currently up for possible adoption to the right person. We love her, and don't want her to leave, but know she deserves that important 'one person'. Connor's chest has healed, and overnight he has turned into the sweetest little cow pony anyone could ever desire. His attachment to Sterling is iron-clad; when his buddy is in the ring, Connor stands right outside the door to hear how Sterling does. Once they are together in the pasture, Connor will go his way, but one eye is always out for the cribbing bay gelding, no matter what fence post he is worshipping at the moment.

And Sterling? Well, in some ways he has hit the proverbial jackpot. With one loving foster mom, Tiff, and under the instructions of our two fabulous trainers Kristina and Sami, Sterling is winning classes and divisions in the Hunter / Jumper competitions around Northwest Georgia. At the true age of almost 5, Sterling is finding his groove in life.

Daisy, Daisy - Give Me Your Answer True

Last Saturday we had an Easter Egg Hunt at Blue Skies. We did pony rides, face tattoos, along with the hunt itself. It was a magical day, warm sunshine but not too hot. Just the sort of day that belongs to Spring, warm enough to hint of the summer that is to come and to forgive the drab winter past. Most importantly we raise more than $500 for the support and maintenance of our horses.

But in the midst of all the happiness, the day was tinged with sadness, because Sneaky wasn't there. No matter how many times we looked at each other and shrugged it off, the emptiness of him was everywhere. For the first time we all grieved in public while attempting to put on a happy face.

After the crowds went home, we worked with the rescues. Dyna and Dozer are progressing very well. They enjoy being under saddle and have obviously been someone's partner in the past. They even attempted the ground poles and crossrails with interest and vigor. Daisy, was another story.

Daisy came to us, the little run dun mare with broken teeth. We discovered very quickly she does not like anyone handling her on the right side. While we had always suspected abuse, Saturday confirmed our suspicions. First, we went to quick release tie her for grooming and she pulled back hard, more upset than expected. For a short period of time, she let one of our assistant instructors on her, walking along behind Sami, following quietly. ear pricked forward and a spring in her walk. Then, Sami bent down to pick something off the ground, and as the story goes, "that was all she wrote."

The mare exploded in a shower of bucks and straight into the air leaps. The poor assistant dived for the ground, but not before one of Daisy's hooves grazed her on the way down. Luckily there were enough of us in the ring to calm down Daisy and handle the downed instructor. We aren't sure what triggered the meltdown, but it showed us the deep truth of this poor little girl - some where along the line, she has had the crap beaten out of her for no reason, either with a whip or pipe or wooden bat.

So while five of our Super 6 are making strides toward healing, Daisy has taken a step backwards. After she was returned to their pasture, I went out to talk with her, assure her we understand, we love her and will never hurt her for acting out. The road to recovery is long and paved with stumbling blocks, and we just found one on her path. No problems, we drop back and reassess. No hard feelings.

But I know if I ever find out who beat this poor mare, I might revive the old custom of tar and feathers. The depths to which mankind can sink never ceases to amaze me. Did beating on this poor girl make whoever you are feel like more of man? Because I will tell you the truth - a man who will beat an animal will beat a human, just give them time.  What will be their excuse then? Remember - karma is a bigger witch than I am and it will catch up to you.

It would almost be nice if Daisy could mete the punishment out to those who abused her. That is what I call fair.

An Update On A Goofy Gelding

Last Thursday AJ and I returned to Auburn University Large Animal Clinic for a one month check up for Vince.  The big boy was more than ready for a field trip, having been on stall rest since his PRP injection procedure. A large high strung gelding in a 12 x 12 space for an extended period of time is not a nice experience, but Vince has endured though he might not think so.

Our appointment this time was at 9am, so at the crack of dawn, we pulled out of BSRA and onto I-75 south and early rush hour traffic. Unlike our first trip there were no major slowdowns and we actually arrived in Auburn thirty minutes early. They showed Vince to an outpatient stall while the doctors finished their morning procedures. Right at nine, the entire cadre showed up to watch Vincent trot up and down.

His two doctors, whose names I cannot spell but will acknowledge in full when this recovery is complete, watched the big boy take three steps and pronounced him still lame. Meanwhile, I am jumping up and down with happiness because there was no deep drop to the left shoulder as he trotted nor did he trip over his own feet. Dr. W looked at me like I had lost my mind and said, "But he is still lame." I replied, "But he is better!"

So we retired to the ultrasound room to see the exact measure of recovery. The news is good. The ligament in the right leg is no longer inflamed and the left leg has no more tear but it is still swollen. For the first half of the ultrasound, Vince didn't even need any sedative. It wasn't until she had to start reaching through his legs to reach the right side that his ears began to twitch and the restlessness set in. Out came the dreaded needle and soon the light weight drunk had his big white blaze buried in my chest.

Since we had pulled Vince's shoes after the first trip to Auburn, Dr. A. decided she wanted the Auburn farrier to trim his feet, especially the rear to start shortening the toe and hopefully rotating the heels to relieve pressure on the suspensory ligaments. He was a good boy for their farrier (much to the surprise of our BSRA farrier who considers Vince's feet an all day project after his previous shoeing.) The sedative soon wore off and before a hour and a half and passed we were back on the way to Atlanta.

So Vince is on his way, but still has one more month of stall rest with confined turnout alone. They also have prescribed a mild sedative so that when he is outside the coming and going of other horses doesn't work him into a frenzy. Of course, as much of a light weight as he is with drugs, we will have to play with the dosage to see what works best. Hopefully this will also work on his cribbing habit. It would be nice to see him doing anything rather than sucking on his stall door or window frame. We return in 10 weeks now, a long time but Dr. A. will be spending the month of May in Kentucky working. Rather than break in a new resident who hasn't been included in the process I will wait for Dr. A. Also, we will probably be taking Katie when we return, to have a broken tooth removed which is below the gum line and is causing her to toss her head.

When we first thought Vince had EMP, one of the comments I read the most was that you would learn more about the personality and stamina of your horse throughout the recovery process. I would venture to say any long term injury can teach you how to connect with your equine partner. While I complain about his goofiness, my gelding is handling this injury with a patience not many geldings exhibit. He knows we are making him feel better, so his tolerance for many things had grown. I know him so much better.

He likes to have his head rubbed and to be brushed. He likes to roll in sand rather than dirt or grass, I guess a nod to his Florida roots. He likes sunshine and thinks the biggest crime in the universe is an empty Nibble Net. He misses Sneaky, his buddy, and is uncertain of his place in the pasture when he returns. He knows the sound of my car along with my voice and woe be unto me if I don't come see him first before any other horse. 

While we still have a long road ahead of us, at least we are going together. Dr. A. feels certain that when all is said and done, Vince will be jumping again and that was the purpose of the trips, to make an injured member of our family healthy again. There is no distinction in my mind between my two legged and my four legged children. When they are in pain, I want to make it better. In a perfect world, everyone would be the same way.

Katie - A Rescue Success Story.

Blue Skies Riding Academy is more than a lesson barn, more than another boarding facility. Our primary focus is the rescue and retraining of horses who through no fault of their own find themselves in horrendous circumstances. Currently we have nine rescues which have come from slaughter bound situations. Once the animal regains weight and personal interest in people again, we work to discover their natural abilities and to adopt these recovered gems to loving, forever homes.

One such horse is know to us as Katie, but a long time ago, in a different life, her Jockey Club name was Sought Out. Katie worked the tracks the hard way and when her usefulness was done, she was rescued by a group of very determined women.

Furlong Transition Center acquired Katie after quite a harrowing ordeal. Originally a group of rescuers were networking to bail out a horse that was auction bound. When the network dispatched a local resident to evaluate the nice, large gelding of possible thoroughbred breeding, she arrived to find he had already been sent to auction. Very upset, she called Wendy O’Hara-Mickels at Furlong and another member of the network, Diana Baker. Diana in turn sent one of her friends to the suspected auction house, Marshall Auction in Virginia on a hot Saturday afternoon. While many waited and others called the offending owner it was too late and our target horse, a bay gelding, was sold and gone from the auction yard. Never one to be out done Diana asked her person on the ground, Jan Snodgrass, to see if any other TBs needed rescuing. Jan saw two mares go through the auction both very skinny; one had a terrible scar on her back leg. Since the better mare was bought by a mother/ daughter, Jan set her sights on the other scarred horse. To her horror, the mare was tied to the trailer of one Jessie Austin, known meat dealer and sometimes hauler. After speaking to Diana they agreed on a budget and $150 was spent to save Katie, as she became known somewhere during her trips.

Katie was slaughter bound and her last ride was going to be to New Holland auction for the hauler to gather a load before heading to a Canadian or Mexican slaughter house. Ransomed, Katie instead loaded and went home with Jan, beginning a six week recovery. Upon arrival, Katie was approx. 250+lbs underweight. Her back leg scar ran from hock to fetlock and the leg as was twice the size it should have been. Everyone involved was concerned as to the severity of her injury which appeared to  be six months old. The leg was healing, but the extent of scarring lead many to believe she had been given minimal care along the winding road to rescue. In Late July, early August it was determined Katie needed a more permanent solution. Jan had done a great job of getting weight on Katie but she needed a family to complete the recovery. Furlong Transition had been contacted by the rescue network to take in two thoroughbreds from Charleston. When one horse was placed in a home ahead of the shipping schedule Katie was chosen to fill the spot.

Katie was shipped with Rodeo Reba, a beautiful, large, homeless thoroughbred mare to Furlong Transition in the middle of the night. Katie however had other ideas about this trip. She was in no way going through the auction again or with another scruffy man. Wary of the trailer ride, Katie proceeded to demolish the hauler’s trailer along with injuring Reba physically and mentally on the trip down. Katie had to be sedated for the rest of the trip. We were all very surprised with this sweet mare's sudden meltdown, and decided it was from the trauma of her previous experiences.

Katie and Reba arrived at 3am to begin their new lives at Furlong Transition. After a few weeks it became apparent Katie was top horse in the pack composed of Katie, Reba and resident gelding, the Biggie. She and Reba had scrapes and scuffles, but would be OK. For the next year and a half, Katie was in a stall with adjoining paddock during the day and out at night with her buddies. There was little activity at the barn apart from feeding, cleaning and petting. Secluded on a pretty hill top farm with mountain meadow pastures. Katie only had to eat, sleep and socialize with her pasture mates.

In the beginning, Rodeo Reba was the top attention horse in the barn; the few people welcomed to view them for adoption always went to Reba with her huge brown eyes and perfect form. Unfortunately, no adopters were ever qualified enough for a mare with Reba’s special issues, so she remained at Furlong where she is now a permanent resident. Katie’s scar was getting better but remained a big red flag for most horse shoppers. Her mane was fuzzy from malnutrition, she was shy and would not let people handle her head. Katie’s feet were shelly and she did not like to be bathed or fussed over. After about a year, Katie realized this farm was going to stay under her feet and she began to warm up to both Wendy and her family. Even Wendy's oldest son was comfortable turning her out; Katie had perfect manners.

Eventually, it became apparent Katie wanted more from life than the sleepy enjoyment of being a pampered pasture mate, and she began to show off whenever company came to the barn. Katie would run, buck and come to the fence over and over again. For anyone who knew what to watch for, she was saying I am ready. Blue Skies heard Katie was being started under saddle again in the fall of 2010 by Furlong, and that Wendy’s neighbor, a very experienced dressage rider was working with Katie. When pictures were sent of her under saddle Blue Skies just had to come back for another  visit. Gone was the scruffy necked mare and in her place was a confident Thoroughbred, a lady in hand, shiny and ready to move on to her next chapter. After Sami and Ashley rode her and everyone saw the pictures there was no denying Katie was going to be the next addition to the Blue Skies family.

It hasn't been all easy going. It took Katie a while to settle into the routine of a lesson program. She is a big girl with a big stride and has been working and retraining as a Jumper. At her first outing this year, Katie and her rider Danielle were in the tops in all their classes. There are pictures of them on our Facebook page: Blue Skies Riding Academy, Inc. Three years ago this precious mare was tied to the trailer headed to hell and now she is poised to explode in the Jumper rings around Atlanta these next years as her new life expands.

On an additional happy note, the original target gelding from the auction was traced down to New Holland the following Monday, purchased and shipped to Kentucky by a group of very determined women in rescue. He became the pasture mate of Mohamed’s Dream who was adopted to the farm previously and was pasture mate to Those Bailey Blues (Bailey who now belongs to Sami Malik of Blue Skies), during her original transition time at Furlong Transition Center.

 Katie is one of many OTTB's now retraining at Blue Skies Riding Academy.

"Now I Will Believe That There Are Unicorns."

The quote is not mine, it is from William Shakespeare's The Tempest, but I know there are unicorns. I saw one leave us last night and my heart will never be the same for having known him.

Several weeks ago I wrote about BSRA's sturdy, grouchy Arabian Sneaky, who had fallen in the pasture and was in difficult circumstances. Sneaky had surprises galore amassed for us, walking everywhere he wanted to be, eating everything in sight and living the country gentleman's life. The hematoma in his chest and belly began to lessen and his winter coat was shedding along with everyone else on the property.

Last Saturday I watched from barn all day as the grand old man stood in the sunshine of the new pastures, eyes half-closed with contentment, chewing the new spring grass. So full of himself and so full of passion; every time I headed for the food, magically he would appear from nowhere to taste test anything which might have value as a treat. He stood patiently by the refrigerator and told me in no uncertain terms that he knew there were carrots inside and it was his prerogative to have one whenever he desired.

He stood in the midst of the front hall, farting with excellent and enjoying the discomfort of any soul unlucky enough to be caught in the back draft. He nibbled hay from every bale around the barn and searched stalls to see if any horse had left their breakfast undone. Sneaky's mane, which had been unceremoniously trimmed several years ago by an unsuspecting and well meaning volunteer, was back to his high Arabian standards. Thinking even now about his indignation over the accidental hair cut I must smile. Sneaky didn't need words to let us know his opinion of the whole experience. His hair was the center piece of his breed, the one vanity the old gelding took to heart. Without the mane, in his eyes, he was just another horse. To anyone who knew him, he was more than his hair.

"We are much stuff as dreams are made on", also from The Tempest, best describes this proud stallion. His space was his space and in his younger days taught many children the basics of riding. With his head and tail held high, if Sneaky liked you then he would allow you to ride. If he did not, then it wasn't going to be a good experience. When he met his girl, D, then he changed. He considered D his person, his other half. Their relationship was another piece of his unicorn magic.

For D, he would allow himself to be painted multiple colors and then washed, dressed up for Halloween and anything else; all he needed was her company and the days were complete. Of the rest of us, he liked some, tolerated others but could always be won with a treat. When Redwood was born the old man willingly took on the position of grumpy grandfather. As we worked to save Red last December, Sneaky was the one who stood nearest the fence, watching over the dying yearling.

Last night we gathered around him and told all our favorite Sneaky stories. We told him it was OK to let go and be at peace. We held him and reminded him of the young one waiting across the rainbow bridge, and to not stay just for us, we would be alright. With large sighs and long in-depth looks we knew he understood. Minutes later he was quietly gone and the world seems a lot emptier now.

Every barn has its wise old man, and Sneaky was our. There is no one who can take his place. As I left the barn last night, tears dropping freely from my eyes, I looked up at the quarter moon and smiled. It looked like a Sneaky smile. The sky was clear, stars brighter than we see them here in the midst of civilization. At the barn, it shone like the nights of our childhood. A perfect sky for a priceless horse - it seemed fitting.

There is an Arabic proverb that states, "A horse of good breed is not dishonored by his saddle." Sneaky honored his saddle, his breed and his people. The Blue Skies family were honored to have been those people.

Reclaiming A Broken Heart

Tonight we had to go to the barn to measure out new pastures: one of the Super 6, another for our existing herd, and to plan a small pasture for Stella Blue the pregnant donkey. Currently Stella shares a pasture with three mares: Soleil, Vivienne and Nala. While I don't know how it works with a donkey foal, I do know mares will occasionally steal a newborn for their own.

As I sat and observed the Super 6 it became apparent each horse is in a different place when it comes to their emotional health. Physically they are slowing improving, though they look worse from shedding the winter coats they had upon arrival two weeks ago. But starvation is easily corrected with good hay and grain, carrots and apples. Emotional abuse is different.

Horses which have been trained, handled, and mis-handled are totally dependent upon humans for the basic staples of existence: food, shelter, water. They learn to trust we will provide them with these necessities. But what happens when man breaks that promise? What happens when we break the unspoken contract?

Trust, once broken, is not easily re-established. The horse becomes wary of 'the other hand', expecting the food to come with a condition. Too many times that 'other hand' brings pain, bewilderment, fear. The safety of the herd is breached by men with ropes and whips, or the electric prod. Horses run, fear and panic taking hold and erasing the memory of love and companionship. For some, man brings the final inglorious end - slaughter.

We must break through to these rescued ponies and show them not all humans are to be feared. It isn't an easy task, and some are so broken that reaching through the cage of their fear is close to impossible. But we never give up on an animal unless it becomes a danger to itself or others. If their spirit is too damaged it may be time to send them to a professional who works with wounded souls. Sometimes a horse cannot be healed.

Of the Super 6, one concerns me - Dolce. We have not gotten a confirmation from the Jockey Club on her identify, but if I had to lay odds my guess would be she came out of either Louisiana or Alabama from the race track. She has an air of suspicion, a watchfulness the others do not exhibit. Something is broken, but is she ready for healing? I don't know yet. I will not give up on her, or any horse, until every path has been exhausted.

Somewhere out there is Dolce's story, a past we do not know, a present we are now writing, and a future brighter than anything she has had before. That is the true core of what BSRA does - we rebuild hearts and write new futures. It isn't a bad job, the hours are long and the rewards are hard fought for. And the day Dolce puts her trust in us will be the best reward I can think of. For now.

Yesterday...

Yesterday started Spring Cleaning at BSRA and the weather was, for the major part of the day, wonderful. The horses all had their noses deeply buried in round bales of hay within  the pastures and the rescues ate and napped in the March sunshine. These are the days I have always enjoyed playing hooky, whether from school or work. Not too hot (though it is warmer than March should be) and the sky so blue it beckons one outside to marvel in the brightness of its azure arch.

We have been using a homeopathic topical gel on Vince's legs to draw out any heat, encourage healing from the inside. When the leg was first injected the big gelding would kick your head off at the mere thought of touching the inflamed limb. Now he just flats his ears for a moment, cribs a few times and then returns to his hay. Darling daughter M took his first round of hand walking, along with the other invalids, Mouse and Savannah. Sneaky is currently allowed free rein to wander around the property but can usually be found in the new pastures eating and soaking up the sunshine.

I spent a long time with the Super 6, feeding carrots and using marigold spray against the early crop of flies Georgia is experiencing. Each had a different reaction to the holistic fly spray, which works just as good as any pesticide yet doesn't contain any poisons. Marigold spray also stays working for several days without need for reapplication. I highly recommend it, especially with horses that have systemic issues.

Dyna loved the carrots and stood patiently for the spray. There was no hesitation or shying away from the touch of spray against her skin. I am growing very attached to this intelligent mare. The way she studies me when I come to interact with them, her willingness to come to me and the thoughtful way she smells me from head to foot. I cannot wait until her quarantine is over and we can put a saddle on to see what she knows. Perhaps she was a cow pony, or a sure footed trail pony?

Maple (who I think should be named Joni) wanted my carrots but not the fly spray. She did not even want to sniff the bottle, making me wonder what trials she has been through. Throwing the bottle out of the stall I stretched out my hand to reassure her I would make no efforts with the spray. Poor mare, I find myself full of sorrow as we wait for results on the tattoo to come back. We have asked other Thoroughbred rescues and associates to help us with her poor lip tattoo.

Sparky and Dozer both had the same reaction - spray for carrots was a fair trade in their eyes. Though neither was as patient and willing as Dyna, they didn't shy away or flinch. Good solid geldings, what a wonderful after working with goofy gelding.

Dolce wasn't happy about the fly spray and I make sure to avoid the cuts and bites she received before coming to BSRA. Her eyes are still guarded, Dolce is considering her condition more so than the others appear to be doing. Now that her winter coat is shedding out the ribs are more visible, but so are the bites and kicks endured during her journey.

After spending time with the rescues it was my turn to hand walk Vince. The new pastures have wonderful baby grass coming in and after a month in his stall he was ready for grass! His 1000 pounds of horse dragged my 5'5" frame all over the pastures. Only the increasingly closer claps of thunder saved me from more arm pulling. Then the storm broke over the valley in its full intensity, bringing more rain to the already damp ground. The two ponds are full, the new grass is popping all over the farm and Stella's belly is growing more day by day.

Spring on a farm - there really isn't anything better.

The Majesty of Hooves

Since I was a child, horses have held mystery and nobility. In my mind I have conquered mountains, forded rivers and crossed the plains on the back of a horse; more than a thousand journeys ridden alongside the expressways and plane trips of childhood. In honor of all of us who have taken our noble steed from pretend barns to imaginary castles, a few of my favorite quoted and thoughts about our companions.

A horse is the projection of peoples' dreams about themselves - strong, powerful, beautiful - and it has the capability of giving us escape from our mundane existence. ~Pam Brown

Show me your horse and I will tell you who you are.~ Old English Proverb

The horse, the horse! The symbol of surging potency and power of movement, of action. ~ D. H. Lawrence

A horse is a thing of beauty... none will tire of looking at him as long as he displays himself in his splendor. ~Xenophon

No philosophers comprehend us so well as the horse. ~ Herman Melville

The animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the sense we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. ~ Henry Beston

If you have seen nothing but the beauty of their markings and limbs, their true beauty is hidden from you. ~ AL Mutannabbi

His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. ~ William Shakespeare

Many people have sighed for the 'good old days' and regretted the 'passing of the horse,' but today, when only those who like horses own them, it is a far better time for horses. ~C.W. Anderson

The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears. ~Arabian Proverb

The essential joy of being with horses is that it brings us in contact with the rare elements of grace, beauty, spirit, and fire. ~Sharon Ralls Lemon

All I pay my psychiatrist is the cost of feed and hay, and he'll listen to me any day. ~Author Unknown

A canter is a cure for every evil. ~Benjamin Disraeli

Brahma was excessively sparing with earth, water, and fire.... The reckless expenditure of air and ether in his composition was amazing. And, in consequence, he perpetually struggled to outreach the wind, to outrun space itself. Other animals ran only when they had a reason, but the Horse would run for no reason whatever, as if to run out of his own skin. ~Rabindranath Tagore

Look back at our struggle for freedom,
Trace our present day's strength to it's source;
And you'll find that man's pathway to glory
Is strewn with the bones of the horse.
~Author Unknown

In riding a horse we borrow freedom. ~Helen Thomson

Four things greater than all things are, -
Women and Horses and Power and War.
~Rudyard Kipling, "The Ballad of the King's Jest"

Wherever man has left his footprint in the long ascent from barbarism to civilization we will find the hoof print of the horse beside it. ~John Moore

In my opinion, a horse is the animal to have. Eleven-hundred pounds of raw muscle, power, grace, and sweat between your legs - it's something you just can't get from a pet hamster. ~Author Unknown

In this time of economic hardship, many animals are being discarded or sent to places of little to no sanctuary. If you are looking for a great cause, support Horse Rescue. At Blue Skies, we rehabilitate and retrain discarded horses and give them back the only thing any horse wants, a job. They depend upon mankind and we have to improve our treatment of them. Thanks for letting me jump on my soapbox. Next post will definitely be an update on our captive audience, Vince and Sneaky; along with an introduction to the 5 new rescue horses coming to BSRA tomorrow.

 

The Definition of Heart

This was an extremely busy weekend for Blue Skies Riding Academy. On Thursday Miss Beverly left for a training session on natural healing and herbs. On Friday we took nine horses and eleven riders to our first show of the season and little rescue donkey, Stella Blue, allowed me to pet her and kiss her nose on Saturday. All in all a productive three days.

On top of the excellent performances from all our riders (and trainers!), Sneaky decided a five minute hand walk was too boring. While I walked five feet into the barn for a longer lead rope, he decided to take a field trip into the back pasture for some fresh grass. My irritation at him not following orders was quickly overtaken by joy at seeing the grand old Arabian walking free again. He stood in the sun, chewing the new grass, eyes closed in complete happiness in the sunshine. The road to recovery for a 20+ year old horse is long, but I will revel in the small steps.

On a different note, Vince was not having a great day. He had seen the trailer loading Friday morning and the awareness he wasn't going did not sit well with my boy. When I arrived on Saturday morning, instead of happy Vince, I got surly Vince. With all my magnificent volunteers riding at the show, my day was full of stalls and manure and shavings, so it was after lunch before I got time to spend with him one on one.

He loves eating hay while I brush him down, but the back left leg with the suspensory ligament damage is still off limits. No touch, no rub, he barely let my fingertips run along the leg. When I see the immediate pain reaction on his face, my heart bleeds. Horses have no vocal cords for the spoken word, only the twitch of their multi-directional ears and a lifted limb. To know he has been in such pain and I didn't know the source is frustrating.

While I rubbed my goofy gelding and gave him treats with rock sugar in the center (absolutely favorite new treats), my darling daughter was riding her first love in the show ring. Penny (registered name How Much Money) was our first horse, a Quarter Horse with a heart a mile wide and a pedigree that includes Man O' War. (Quarter Horses are a combined breed, usually Thoroughbreds with native pony.) The first years of her life were spent in the rodeo ring as a reining horse. Basically, running first speed from one end of the arena to the other, then slamming on the breaks and sliding on the hocks.

Penny has arthritis in her hocks, we knew that when we purchased her. But she and M have been true partners since the moment they laid eyes on each other. No matter how many other horses my daughter might ride, Penny is her partner, the one I wanted for her first horse. But last year she developed another problem - navicular. With so much pain in all legs, the decision was made to semi-retire Penny. Thus Vince entered into our lives.

This show was supposed to be Vince's big debut, but instead reliable Penny stepped up to the plate. With only minimal conditioning, she went to the show and took home three ribbons, 4th, 5th and 6th. The prize isn't the ribbons, it is that she competed at all. Her navicular has been well managed by proper shoeing, rest, minimal jumping and occasional riding. But when she was called upon, her only answer was "Yes". THAT is the definition of heart.

We have almost 30 horses at BSRA, and all of them have people who love them and cherish them as partners. I own three, Penny, Vince and a wonderful little rescue named Bella, who deserves her own post. If anyone tries to tell me a horse is just a dumb animal, I have 30 four-legged friends to help me prove otherwise. I love the lessons I learn from them. They make me a better person and the unconditional love they exude is precious. Isn't that what we all need?

UPDATE: Sneaky and Vince, Comrades in Stalls

We went out to the barn today, to prepare for a horse show this weekend across town. It was the first time I had seen Vince or Sneaky since Saturday. There were a lot of changes.

First, an update on Sneaky. He is feeling good, and the swelling in his sheath has gone down considerably. I walked him around the aisles today and we moved at his pace, which consisted of three steps forward and then wait a few minutes before walking three more. The fluid has settled to the lowest points, along the bottom line from sternum to rump. This causes the skin to stretch tight across the top line making the hip bones more pointed that they really are.

His appetite is still good as is his water intake. What goes in is having no problems coming out in either format. The banamine was making him sweat, so SM gave him a haircut to help with the sudden heat wave we are having here in the South. I presented him a molasses treat with rock candy in the center, which he loved, and a small carrot. That took a little longer, but when we left he had moved around in the stall and was starting in on the evening hay.

Sneakers is in for a long recovery, but as long as his spirits stay good it will be okay. He knows this time he got hurt worse than ever before and this injury is teaching him that age is more than just a number. But he also knows how much he is loved.

There is a special bond that exists between horses and humans. Our bond with them is primal; on their backs we conquered the world. Behind their shoulders have plows brought our food. They have transported us and transformed us, and if we stop long enough to listen, they can teach us. If we are smart enough to hear.

Vince is responding to his PRP injection extremely well. When he heard me come into the barn, he stopped cribbing long enough to come demand my attention. His eyes were bright and his ears were forward, two things that had been missing these past weeks as we fretted and consulted on what could be wrong. Today the goofy gelding was back, complete with a new component - love. After six long months of dancing around together, now we are a family.

Why did it take so long?  Why now? Because I took away the pain. I know, it wasn't me personally but we took him to the big scary place with needles and now it feels better. He knows at last we care about him. In human terms, all we did was take him to a doctor, but in the animal world we did something huge. In return Vince is ready to go forward and get better.

And you know what? So am I.

Into A Completely New Day

Late on Thursday afternoon, Dr. Groover and the Neurology team referred the case to the Surgical Department. The biggest break in our case was the really bad attitude Vince had developed in the preceding weeks. Always a little head shy, he had become down right unsociable. Not even AJ was immune to his poor view on life. His behavior was more irritated than would come from pure EPM, I was informed.

Vince had lameness issues.

When he was purchased in July of 2011 from Florida his feet were not in great shape. They were bruised, dry and he was almost walking on his heels. Since then we have been slowly balancing his feet. But when he moved, ever so gradually it became apparent there was something going wrong. The Surgical team repeated all the trotting motions the Neurology team had performed but they added another component - flexation.

First the front legs and then the back were pulled and tucked and after each time, the tech would trot him down the lane, stop at the end and return. With the front legs no amount of flexing or pulling made a difference. But as soon as they came to the back legs it was a completely different story.

The resident, whose name I will not attempt to spell because it was Italian and I never got it right, believed the problem was in the hocks. As the owner of one horse with bad hocks, from a first career as a reining horse, my immediate response was, "Are you sure?" She assured me the final decision would come from the head of the Surgical department, who name I will not attempt to spell because it was strange and I never got it right.  To confirm the decision a block would be injected into Vince's hock to measure the difference in pain when trotting.

More needles! But first we had to have our hocks washed to make sure no dirt could get into the injection site. While the cleaning portion wasn't too bad, they did have to sneak a calming shot into my boy to prevent their heads from getting caved in. Waiting for the block to take hold, the Surgical head came in from his afternoon classes.

The entire parade moved outside. Between the techs, the residents, the students and us there were about forty-eleven people watching my gelding trot back and forth. After three strides, the Surgical head proclaims, "It's not the hocks, it's the suspensory ligament." So back we go into the procedure room for another shot. (Did I mention there was still blood on the floor?)

After waiting inside everyone then troops back outside for another trotting session. Another down and back and Dr. Surgical Head announces that his problem moved from the left leg to the right. Amazing - my horse is so talented. Now the call is to sonogram the suspensory ligaments in the back legs. This means more sedation and a shave for each back leg.

To make a long story short (I know, too late!), we discovered three things:
1) - Vince has a lesion on his left suspensory ligament.
2) - His right ligament is inflamed.
3) - My horse can snore and drool while on drugs.

The lesion on the ligament is not new. It can be caused by repetitive off-balance motion, especially at high speeds. Vince is a jumper. They are prone to these injuries. It is treatable. Vince received a PRP injection. PRP stands for Platelet Rich Plasma. Basically they took Vince's blood, again, and spun it inside a centrifuge to separate the platelets. These are injected into the injured ligament to promote healing. It is very successful, though he might not be as enthusiastic about jumping all the time anymore.

Both horses spent the night, as the procedure was done on Friday morning before all the vets had to go either teach or be in class. After dinner at Ruby Tuesday's and a good night's sleep we awoke and drove back out to the Large Animal Hospital. Vince was just coming out of his sedation haze when we entered the barn. Connor had been wonderful, even feeling safe enough to lay down and sleep overnight.

With clouded skies and too warm temperatures we loaded, paid the bill and left. We ran into rain around the state line which at times was so hard you couldn't see the road in front of the car. Closer to Atlanta the sun came out and the ground dried up and at long last we were back at Blue Skies.

I confess to a large sigh of relief that our worst fears were not confirmed, but there is still a long road to rehab and recovery. For the next 30 days Vince is on stall rest with hand walking. Then we go back to Auburn for a recheck and further instructions. We could tell he already was feeling better because he was cribbing again and his sweet goofy attitude was back today. It was nice to see.

EPM is a horrible illness, and I learned so much I didn't know before. While he does not have an active case I feel for those who are going through the pain and frustration of this disease. I wholeheartedly recommend Auburn University Large Animal Teaching Hospital and its staff. The entire experience, from initial phone call through the on-site process was excellent. At times I felt frustrated, with the trotting and the shots, but most of that is the teaching aspect of the hospital. And no outrageous expense.

On a different but related note - Sneaky is going strong. The swelling to the butt and sheath are still there, but he is hanging in there. He gets walked a little every day, just to assess his movement. We take off his blanket, check the swelling, see how much he ate and how much he drank along with his poop and pee levels, which are still good. So that leaves Sneaky and Vince, two good friends, in slow motion rehab.

While originally this was going to be about Vince and EPM, I have decided to continue this blog. Sneaky and Vince still have a long road to walk and they enjoy being the subject of their own blog. Every person who owns a horse is never amazed when something out of the blue happens. I hope that we can help others who are treating their own brave and loyal companions. You aren't alone, although sometimes it feels that way. We all share the pain.

A Long Days Journey...

We left for Auburn University early on Thursday morning. Of course we were stuck in rush house traffic. Our appointment was 10:30 Central time, so we had allowed ourselves for this circumstance, but with a car as well as the truck and trailer it was nerve wracking for AJ as well as Vince and Connor.

Connor had come along for two reasons. First and foremost he appeared to have a possible ulceration on his right eye. A month previous he had injured the eye, and after the medication had cleared up the large pimple, there was a small white cloud in his lens, resembling an ulcer. Second, he had impaled himself on a fence post last June and we were never confident there wasn't something left in the wound.

I know it sounds strange that would be the lesser issue, but after more than seven months, the wound was closed and scar tissue had closed the large gaping chest piercing. The possible ulcer was more urgent - we were afraid on top of his other scar Connor would lose his eye as well. Our little rescue had already come through so much none of us could bear more loss.

Once past the morning chaos of Atlanta our trip passed uneventful. Gaining an hour when we crossed the state line we arrived in Auburn at the Large Animal Teaching Hospital at 10:20am. Check in was similar to any vet, excepted the part where the trailer drove into a gate controlled parking lot and vet techs and students descended upon Connor and Vince, separating them into two different areas: Surgery and Neurology.

While AJ went with Connor, as she was more familiar with both his issues, M and I went with Vince. The resident in Neurology began asking questions as they ran their hands over his legs and back, then began trotting him back and forth over the asphalt parking lot. The students conferred and muttered and did more trotting and then the decision was made to draw more blood for more significant testing.

Bad move - the only living thing I have ever seen more afraid of a needle than myself was my horse! As AJ was walking up to join us and attempting to tell them not to come at his face with a needle, Vince saw the offending implement. What followed could only be described as a cluster. Somehow they managed to get the needle into his neck but before they could connect the collection tubes, he took a cue from another of our horses and played "Spin A Pony"! For as long I as I live I will never stop snickering every time I think of him spinning the tech and newbie veterinarians with the needle hanging out of his neck.

Next the Surgical team came to tell us Connor didn't have an ulcer, all the while the Neurology team was attempting to load Vince into the exam chute. Another bad move - having lost all respect for everyone around him because of the needles, Vince had decided this wasn't any fun and took a page from the mule handbook and refused to cooperate further.

Taking Vince back outside Dr. Groover, the Neurology vet and AJ and I have a further conversation about Connor. The clouded spot in his eye is scar tissue, which is fusing a portion of his lens to the cornea. The eye is functional and his vision does not seem to be affected. They took a sonogram the chest area and there were no foreign bodies or pus pockets in the chest. For the first time, we are given an official okay to let Connor have a job.

Vince's journey, however was about to take a wide detour.

After more conversation and conferences Dr. Groover decided to bring the Surgical team into Vince's case. The key to the was becoming something we attributed to the EPM - a bad attitude. What we discovered was a long step in a couple of other directions.

With Horses, It's Always Something.

We went over to the barn this evening to make sure everything was ready for Vince and Connor's big trip to Auburn in the morning, but if you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans. Last night I received notice from the barn manager Vince had apparently leaned against the wall between his stall and the pony next door and had caved in some of the board. trapping Fox pony in a corner! Tonight we arrived to find a crisis of another kind, only this time, NOT with my horse.

Our barn has every type of horse - retired race horses rescued from the race tracks of the mid-Atlantic; horses rescued from various situations around the country; and our own personal animals. Once such gelding is Sneaky (registered Arabian name Sneak Preview), age 27 - one of our original herd purchased to begin Blue Skies Riding Academy. Sneaky is our grand old man, a proud Arabian with the attitude of the grumpiest of sweet old men. He is opinionated, hard headed, grouchy, and completely wonderful.

About a year ago the decision was made to retire Sneaky and let him live out the remainder of his days as a companion only. He doesn't tolerate the heat as well as he used to (he is a flea bitten grey) and too much trotting or cantering caused him to gasp for breath. Of course that decision lasted only a few months before he let us know, in no uncertain terms, complete retirement was boring. Since then he has only been ridden occasionally by his favorite person DW. They have a special bond and have more fun just being together than most any others. Until I started trying to curb Vince's cribbing, Sneaky was Vince's best and only friend.

Yesterday Sneaky was being grumpy under his usual tree when one of the other geldings started 'something'. I say it that way because only someone who owns more than one gelding knows what I am talking about. The pecking order with gelding is always fluctuating. They don't fight like stallions will, but they certainly run and snort and nip and act like boys. In the process of wanting to be left alone, Sneaky fell heavily onto his right back leg.

No one knows for sure how he fell, but he got right back up and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until this morning when the barn manager went to check on him. He wasn't eating very much and when she went in the stall it became very apparent the fall had been worse than suspected. His sheath was extremely swollen and his right hip seemed to be at a strange angle.  Many treatments were debated, but all roads eventually led to the phone and Dr. Sue was called. After more consideration we contacted DW just in case things didn't go right.

It took a while for the vet to arrive (isn't that always the way it seems), and she quickly determine that while nothing was broken, he does have a major hematoma on the inside of his right leg into the butt causing major pain. He can urinate, just cannot 'assume the position' as geldings do. We cannot touch the hematoma due to the location; if she were to be unable to staunch the blood flow there would be no way to save him in the field. The closest hospital is either UGA or Auburn, where we are already heading in the morning.

As a family we have made the decision to give him a few days with pain meds and steroids and dmso to attempt to the reabsorbing of the blood into the system. He is drinking well and and eating wet down alfalfa but there is a long road ahead. We will give him all the help and support that we deem safe for the old man. So when you say a prayer tonight, would you spare an extra one for Sneaky? Right now - he needs it more than Vince and Connor. They can have their prayers tomorrow. Tonight I have a different gelding who needs us.

Not With a Bang...

Today was the first Winter Schooling Show. Before the world turned upside down it would have been Vince and my daughter's debut in the Jumper Ring. That didn't happen.

We tried to put on happy faces but when I walked in the barn and saw his freckled face, ears back, nibbling at his hay net, it was obvious he didn't feel well. Bravely, M tacked him up and walked into the ring to warm up, our barn manager close at her side in case Vince had a stumble. After only two laps at a trot (with Vince walking the corners) it became apparent to all of us this wasn't going to happen.

I took Vince back to his stall, brushed him down and turned him out while M transferred to our mare Penny. For a long time he just stood at the gate, cribbing on the rail next to the water trough. After retrieving the DARE collar from his stall, I loosely buckled it on and turned to leave the pasture. Suddenly Vince was at my shoulder pushing me, a touch of loneliness on his face.

The only two other horses out at the time were two our of OTTB rescues, Big and Bailey. Usually the OTTB's form their own group and don't really invite the others to share on their round bales. I call them the original discriminators. I walked toward the two, Vince hanging right at my shoulder.

Big is a grey gelding, Bailey a chestnut mare. Both turned to look at Vince and me as we walked up. Vince stopped a little behind the other two, while I walked up to the round bale. "Vince would like to share the bale with you. I promise he won't be any problem." Both returned to munching from the center of the bale. Permission granted.

Slowly Vince joined the circle, the new kid in the cool group on a trial basis. The three of them continued in blissful peace, even when another OTTB, Katie, joined the circle. Only when the fourth TB came to graze did Vince get pushed out. Even then it wasn't mean. He just walked away and back to the gate, ready to come in for the day.

I filled his Nibble Net, great for keeping him occupied and not cribbing in his stall, then brushed him down again and talked about our big trip this coming week. I assured him it would be alright and we would be with him every step of the way. He seemed better than in the morning, more at ease with himself. I loved on him some more and then it was time to go.

After today I am more determined than ever to get this big lovable goof back to normal, whatever normal might be. He deserved nothing more than the most I can give. That's what I intend to give him.

My Horse Is Sick

So my horse has been exposed to EPM. What do I do now?

EPM stands for Equine Protozoal MYELOENCEPHALITIS. It is a parasite that attacks the central nervous system in horses. It come from possum poop.  Here in the South, most animals tested would be positive for exposure. I mean, possum is like the national animal of the South. So to say if he has an active case means more testing.

Next week Vince and his friend Connor will be taking a road trip to the University of Auburn vet school for neurological tests, with a possibility of x-rays or a spinal tap. Connor will be going for moral support and to have his old wound which refuses to close sonogrammed.

I am nervous. I have been doing a lot of reading about EPM and here is the rub - there is no positive test for EPM. You can only eliminate other possible problems and when everything is exhausted then it probably is EPM. Catching the parasites before they have the chanch to cross the blood barrier into the brain is key to a successful treatment and rehabilitation.

Vinny is too bad right now, at least in my untrained opinion. Tomorrow will be his first and last show of this season. He does trip and he has a hard time telling his left from his right, but those could be from an old injury. Only the testing at Auburn will tell.

This is my diary of Vince's big Adventure. I will keep my notes and thoughts and observations. He will have good days and bad days and here is where I will organize his journey. He is a big goofy gelding, and I love him more than I knew. While I know this is going to be a long, and probably expensive, road I cannot imagine not helping him. His goofiness makes my day.

I hope along the way to educate others along with myself about this puzzling and sometimes fatal illness.