Blog Post #1
Decision decisons…where do I start with my stories? The answer was easy…as my horses came to me…..1 by 1 by 1………
ABBAR
As I mentioned in my intro, I am a registered nurse by vocation. I am also a bit of a restless soul, and I travelled around the globe for the better part of my career, doing contract work. This suited me just fine! Satisfied the Sagittarian influence within me. Thankfully my travels sent me to the middle east, Saudi Arabia specifically. There, I met one of the greatest souls in my life. And he changed my life. His name was Abbar.
Working in the middle east was a very exciting opportunity for me and I was extremely excited to go to that part of the world. I imagined a whole new horizon of experiences, people, places, and lifestyle. I knew there was a small riding facility on the compound where I would be living, but I promised myself not to go there, to do other things, experince those new horizons. And my plans quickly changed.
My compound had a small circular where sales were advertised. I had moved with my entire household, and it was time to downsize so I frequently posted items for sale. On a day of unpacking, I found my old saddle from my show jumping days. As near and dear to my heart as this old saddle was, it was time to move it along to a new home. It sold quickly, but unbeknownst to me, word spread fast
that an American with horse experience had arrived……which changed the trajectory of my life.
My phone began to ring incessantly with inquires about my equine aspirations, experience, could I work at the stable etc etc etc. My answer was always ”sorry, but no”. I was determined to do other things. My previous years had been consumed with horses, showing, etc.. Then very late one night I answered the call that changed everything, from a man named Ghazi.
Ghazi was a 30ish local gentleman who happened to see my ad, and at the time in my eyes this was just another person looking for anyone with horse experience. And as usual my answer was NO. Ghazi had other ideas. He called day and night, pleading for help with his horse. After several days and frustrating conversations, I agreed to go look at his horse. But that was it, no more phone calls after the visit. He was elated to say the least.
We met the following evening at the compound farm. Ghazi was very engaging, spoke perfect English and was very happy to meet me. We walked the grounds of the farm and ended up at Abbar’s stall. I looked into the stall, and will never in my lifetime forget the gray-black eyes peering at me from the darkness. I could feel his thoughts….”what are you here to do to me?” Abbar was emaciated, looked hopeless and exhausted. My heart broke into a million pieces, tears welled in my eyes, and I silently promised this beautiful gray Arabian that I would try to help him, or give him the last act of kindness.
With Ghazi standing and waiting patiently behind me, I merely said…”I’ll help him but only if you sell him to me, right here, right now.” Obviously Ghazi’s jaw dropped, and the look on his face was one of pure shock. He was speechless. Then he told me the backstory of how he had acquired Abbar. He was a wedding present from his cousin. Ghazi had gotten married 3 years prior, and his cousin had given Abbar as a gift. Not knowing what to do, Ghazi had merely moved Abbar to the compound stables, and that was that. Having a conscience, Ghazi had realized Abbar needed some help, that Ghazi himself needed some help, and here I was. All Ghazi said then was, OK. My heart soared, no shred of doubt and I was ready to start trying my best to help this poor animal. We settled on a price and I promised cash the next day, and we decided on a meeting place and time. Ghazi’s only request was to visit Abbar from time to time. No problem I replied. I just had to have sole ownership of this horse. And there went my grand schematic plan to do “other” things besides horses.
I barely slept that night with all the usual worry and excitement that accompanies an unexpected life changing decision. Without a local tack store, I spent most of the night online ordering everything I’d need to ensure I could at least groom my new horse. Thank Goodness I was well versed in navigating equine supply web sites. The next day I met with Ghazi and sealed our deal, then I was off to the farm.
I certainly did not know my way around the stable yard, and knew no one. I was received with lots of stares, curious looks, but friendly greetings as well. I explained who I was and why I was there, and most of the people were very happy to show me around and get me situated. When the farm folk learned just which horse I had purchased, the reactions of shock and horror were identical across the board. “He’s feral you know! Oh you poor thing how much did you pay for him? Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into?” Yes, I’m all set thank you. And off I went.
Enter yet another important and amazing soul to entire my world, Rahim.
All of the horses at the farm are assigned a groom to manage and oversee their care. The grooms are an all male staff, generally from Bangladesh. One of the other horse owners found Abbar’s groom, Rahim, and introduced us. Rahim is a beautiful and gentle soul, who speaks quite broken English. But we got along from the start.
I explained that I was the new owner for Abbar, and that I was planning to start working with him, right away. Poor Rahim had an immediate reaction of shock…all over his face. Then he started laughing and telling me what everyone else had told me….’he’s crazy, dangerous, you cannot touch him. Please madam.” Sorry, I have other plans. I knew first and foremost I had to get him out of that stall. Abbar had been confined for 3 solid years, no turn out as he was deemed dangerous. I shared my idea with Rahim, and told him we would need the help of a few other abled bodied gentlemen. All I had to say was “I’ll pay”, and low and behold, we had lots of help within the hour. Now I had to get creative to at least get halter and lead on my new Arabian. Hmmmmm…..
Rahim and his brave helper agreed to go into the stall and try their best to get some tack on Abbar, so I could get him into one of the riding arenas, and just let him run. I said that we could try to persuade and or bribe this poor soul with some grain, to which Rahim replied “ he never gets grain.” OK. Thankfully one of the boarders who was nearby offered a can of grain. I said, we just have to do this, take a deep breath, and lets bring him out. These two young men were terribly brave and I have chosen to omit the scary details of the next 10 minutes, but they were successful! Three more men waited outside of the stall, and all 5 grabbed the lead ropes and hung on for dear life during the 5 minute walk to the arena. I followed along closely holding my breath. I was sure of what I was planning, but also terrified. Bringing Abbar into the actual arena only increased his fear, and his struggling got worse but somehow, the men were able to release the leads, and run for cover.
Abbar was terrified , shaking and screaming, then he started to trot, then run and run and run. I asked the men to give us some time, and come back in 30 minutes. I sat in the bleachers, and just watched, and cried. Poor little thing, living in a small box for the past 3 years, so hungry and malnourished, and mostly likely out of his mind with depression and sadness. But he was so beautiful, light gray in color, white mane and tail, running so fast and so beautifully. Within 10 minutes or so he was soaked in sweat, by the 30 minute mark he was lathered. He ran and screamed and rolled and rolled and rolled in the sand. It must have felt so good. I saw no sign of weakness or frailty which was shocking to say the least, he was graceful within his fury.
The fabulous 5 returned, and after lots of chasing, corralled poor Abbar into a corner, snapped on the leads, and with the same amount of struggle got him back into his stall swiftly closing his door. I explained to Rahim that I would be back every night for the same program. His only reply was “yes madam.
This routine became my every night routine. I went to the farm late in the evening, after most of the other boarders had gone home. I knew I was in this on my own, and I didn’t want the stares and opinions of others, kind or otherwise. Slowly, week by week, Abbar settled and by the end of about 2 months, I was able to lead him by myself to the large outdoor ring, and let him go, always with Rahim by my side. Still, I knew I had so much more to do to help this sweet soul, so I did more.
Nutrition is paramount, we are what we eat. I know this well from my years in healthcare. So I knew I had to change his nutrition right away. I increased his hay to “hay all day”, he was to never be without a plentiful serving. I knew also that he needed vitamins and minerals as well. The other boarders informed me that every six months grain was delivered to the farm, with a pre-order. That sounded great, only problem was the delivery wasn’t expected for another 4 months. OK, now what. Hello Bahrain. Hello Bahrain racetrack.
Through word of mouth and helpful suggestions, I learned about a racetrack nearby in Bahrain. I had visited Bahrain several times since my arrival in Saudi, and was comfortable there. Bahrain is a small and beautiful island nation, just a 45 minute drive over a causeway bridge. Surprisingly I was also able to obtain the telephone number of the racetrack, and even more surprisingly someone actually answered the phone. Wonderful all wonderful. I was told I would be able to buy about 6 bags of grain, cash only please, and come anytime. This was sounding too easy but I went with it. Enter my good friend Zuhair.
Zuhair was a young man working in the hospital, as an orderly. He was always very friendly, engaging, and spoke perfect English as well. He occasionally was hired by some of the western females as a driver, for in town errands or Bahrain visits. Again, this was too easy? I asked him if he would be available for a Bahrain trip anytime soon and he said, why yes, lets go tonight! Nothing is this easy, but OK! Lets go!
With cash in hand off we went to lovely Bahrain, straight to the racetrack, secured the grain, and headed back home. Then things weren’t so easy. The Saudi border. I had learned fairly early on that entrance to KSA depends largely upon the immigration agent at the border. Zuhair arriving with a western woman was apparently very suspicious. The agent investigating the car was certain I was a criminal and selling horse grain on the black market. Hard stop. And very scary. We were searched and questioned, and I was suspect even though I had all of my employment papers. Then our luck turned, Zuhair has a cousin who works for immigration! One phone call and about an hour delay, and we were homeward bound! I was jumping with joy! My Abbar would be getting grain!
Driving into the farm yard in the dark, loaded with 10 heavy bags of grain, Rahim met me with great anticipation! We unloaded the grain, and I dashed to Abbar and offered what I assumed to be his first taste of grain. At this point he was very accustomed to me offering him treats and such so it was usual for him to come to me. I was overcome with emotions of heartbreak and joy at the same. This sweet starved soul, now discovering another avenue of what life might offer. I have to admit, I cried a fair amount.
As time went on Abbar and I became closer, establishing a relationship I didn’t expect quite honestly. Abbar was my first rescue. Over the next few months he began to see me as his person, whinnying loudly when I arrived and protesting when I was even a little late. I spent my days off with him, walking in the desert, bathing him, bringing books and reading to him during his turn out time. I got him on the schedule for turn out time, and I got him as much time as possible in the grass field. To say my heart sang to see him grazing on grass is an understatement of great magnitude. I’d stay with him for hours, just sitting in the shade watching him be so relaxed, without a care in the world. He had gained a very good amount of weight at this time, hooves were growing nicely and coat was starting to shine. The stress and worry was almost gone from his face and eyes. This little grey horse had become my mission, my soul was driven to protect and heal him. And the remainder of my life had basically shut down, I went to work and the farm, and that was it. And I couldn’t have been happier.
20 years later fast forward to my life now and this is what I do, I rescue horses. More about this later but this experience, in the middle of the Sarah desert laid the blueprint for the rest of my life. Abbar taught me so much about love and friendship, and the beauty of the soul.
Our relationship continued to grow into one of the deepest connections I have ever known. At one time, I wondered if he might be open to taking me for rides. I had no idea if he had ever been saddle trained. So I took a chance. And one evening, I got on his back. With lots of nerves and deep breaths. I had a saddle and bridle which he accepted willingly, I asked for a walk, and off we went. Like we had done this a thousand times before. I was shocked and never so proud. He seemed quite happy to take a walk with me around the farm, in the evening breeze, and just happily went wherever I asked. Our ride only lasted about 20 minutes, but my face hurt from so much smiling at the end. I praised him and thanked him over and over, he seemed pleased with himself. I put him back in his stall, when I really just wanted him to come home with me, and stayed with him for a while after, with lots of carrots and cookies. I loved him so deeply.
We continued to ride frequently, and all by ourselves. No agenda, just exploring the desert and the farm. Lots of people always asking us for riding and group rides, but we preferred to go by ourselves. Something about this soulful connection and the two of us. It was beautiful. After about 1 month of riding, I decided to get rid of the tack. I truly believe this idea came from Abbar himself. As a previous show jumper, I was well accustomed to riding with all of the equipment and accoutrements and something (or someone) led me to this decision. Lets go riding with nothing. Boom, nirvana for both of us. It was wonderful, we felt so free, Abbar was always so good when we were riding, but removing the tack took us to a whole new level. I'm not sure if I can describe this appropriately, this level of connection and happiness from both of us. When I look back now, he was with me to teach me, to teach me lessons I didn’t know existed. And being tackless was one of them. I now do this with all of my horses. Thank you Abbar, for ever and ever.
Living in Saudi as an American comes with the requirement to be “out of country” for at least 31 consecutive days per calendar year. So this meant I had to leave my boy, no questions here, mandatory. Therefore, I had to make the best of this situation for him. Luckily, the farm is inundated with lots and LOTS of young girls eager and willing to ride, ride just about anything at any time. These so called “horse-a-holics” in the making are valuable assets, to say the least. So, I knew Rahim would watch over Abbar so carefully as he always did, but I also knew my boy needed attention and TLC. Enter these young ladies. By this time everyone at the farm loved Abbar, truly, and they knew how often I was with him and these young ladies were ready to step in. Wonderful. I knew he would be well cared for so my time away wasn’t filled with anxiety. I could go with a clear conscience. Upon my return, the girls were very happy to see me but told me a story which still befuddles me to this day. No one, and I mean no one, could ride him. Even the most experienced, kind, and gentle rider was thrown off after no more than 5 minutes. I was in disbelief. Totally. I said, “what happened”? “He spooks” they said. I’m sorry, what did you say? Are you talking about Abbar? Spooky? And here came Rahim to welcome me home, while he was laughing. In his heavily accented and broken English, he said “Abbar no like others, he wants mamma”….only mamma. Hilarious, absolutely hilarious. OK, I hear you my friend, no more riders but me, ever. Discussion finished.
Over the next 5 years our bond only grew deeper, and his lessons just continued, for me…..my lessons from him. Innumerable and priceless, taught perfectly and with such grace they have never left me and never will. My gratitude is eternal. Then, enter 9/11 and the war. And life changed. Overnight.
The peaceful and predictable life I knew in this foreign land had ended. The entire energy had shifted. Curfews had been instituted, and many bombings were happening in the small town I had begun to call home. Most of my close friends left. So, it was time for me to leave too I guess. Consequently, I had to find a way to get Abbar to come home too. Which turned out to be easier than you might think. I sought out the advice and knowledge from people who had experience in this seemingly daunting endeavor, and before I knew it, Abbar had a flight to the USA. I would send him to my sister’s farm in Virginia. She had 60 acres and a number of other equine rescues. Over the course of 4 months, I worked and worked and grabbed all of the overtime I could in order to have the money for his trip whilst making arrangements for my final departure from this country. Snags with Visa’s and paperwork seemed endless, and I had to get him to the Bahrain airport at a certain date to make his flight but in the end, somehow it all worked out. He left 2 weeks before me, and he would spend that time in quarantine in New York. By Thanksgiving week, I was on my way to the USA, and was very anxious to see my boy. I landed in New York, grabbed a rental car and drove straight to the quarantine facility. I didn’t want him to see me as I knew he would be upset, so I stayed quiet and was able to peer into his stall. My heart jumped with true joy at the sight of him, you’re here you’re really here! How did we do this? He seemed fine, a bit thinner but my friends warned me about this so I expected it. We had 46 days to go. As I learned in my overseas adventures money does in fact talk so I payed some of the facility staff to get him extra hay, and left for Virginia. There wasn’t much else I could do. Daily phone calls offered me reassurance but I counted every single minute until he could get on a trailer and finally come home. And he did just that, he came home, to Virginia.
I still remember the day the transport trailer arrived. My family’s driveway was very long and rather narrow, and the big truck couldn’t fit! My brother in law and I jumped in the car and drove down to meet them, I only cared about getting Abbar settled and fed! We drove the mile, I leapt from the car and ran to the truck, the big really big truck, and I could hear Abbar inside. My sweet sweet boy. Paperwork had to be done as always, and with immense gratitude my brother in law took care of it while I anxiously begged the drivers to open the doors and let my boy out! Which they did with smiles. Abbar was so nervous he was trembling, and at the sight of me started screaming. I had carrots and hugs, and we walked up the hill to the farm. Shall I say we tried to walk, he was a bit ramped up to say the least. I let him go, and off he went to his new life. And I started crying, with joy, emotional at best having not slept at all the night before.
Over the next few days I never left him. I ate with him, sat with him, walked with him, just like old times. Abbar had never seen this part of the world, had never seen real grass and trees! We kept him in a smaller paddock for the first week with lots of hand walking to show him around, then gradually opened up his world to the other horses and pasture life. I knew he felt safe if I was there, but I had to get to our new home in Boston.
When I made the decision to leave the middle east, I answered a letter I had previously received in the mail from a hospital in Boston. They were in need of pediatric surgical nurses, and had somehow gotten my name and contact information. On blind faith, I took the job. I knew nothing of the area but again, luck was truly in my favor. I found a house to buy, with a little bit of land, and knew I could bring Abbar home there to live with me. But first, I had to build a barn.
Construction took a bit longer than expected, then we had to build fencing. All went well, I was in brand new territory, then the unexpected happened. My sister called, and Abbar had passed.
Shock took over me, and all of the feelings when you loose a loved one. She had seen Abbar lying in the field, and simply thought he was sleeping, but after more than an hour, she went out to check and found him. She called the vet of course, who told her in his opinion Abbar had suffered a heart attack and most likely not suffered. I suppose this gave me some solace. Somehow. I grabbed the first flight I could that night, and begged my family not to bury him until I could see him.
I’ll end the story of his passing here, forever raw emotions and sadness. But then, I had to fly home to a half built barn, what should I do? The life I had planned for us was not meant to be, and I sunk into a fair bit of depression. I was obligated to finish the construction, which I did, but the sadness continued for months and I never went out there. It was a beautiful structure, I had poured a retirement account into it, but now I had no interest in it at all. I worked and worked, all under a veil of sadness and loss.
The Boston hospital where I worked has a large, very large number of employees and as it goes a few of these folks had horses. Word of course travelled and these colleagues of mine knew my story, and were wonderful to me. I always had an offer to come and ride or visit, which was most gracious. And they always had a kind word and a “how are you doing” for me. Until one day and nurse named Linda took me by the shoulders and said, “ENOUGH”. It had been nine months since Abbar’s passing, and she said in no uncertain terms, you go get yourself another horse, this is ridiculous. Go on….enough tears. He’d want you to do just that. So I did. Just that. I started the painful search to fulfill my person, to be who I was most fullfilled being. With horses, with at least one horse. Let the search begin.
TYLER
I must admit, once the decision to bring another horse into my life was made, I felt a bit of excitement, anticipation, and joy at the thought of the new barn actually housing a few horses. To the least, the search was quick. I spent a few days, evenings, searching online ads. There was lots to choose from, but I had my heart set on another Arabian. All during my show jumping years I always had thoroghbreds and warmbloods, like everyone else. Adopting Abbar influenced my yen and I was fairly certain I wanted to try the Arabian breed again. Enter Tyler.
I fell in love with his face online through his advertisement. I knew not to shop for color, so I was open in that respect. But the look in his eyes pulled me right in. His was bright, happy, shining, intelligent. I couldn’t stop smiling back at him. I sent his owner, Jennifer, an email directly asking a few questions and scheduled a showing in 3 days time! I also sent the ad to many many friends and family, all of them agreed! He’s adorable you MUST go to see him. I also prayed and prayed to my Abbar, “is this ok?” Are you alright with this. He sent me nothing but a sense of peace. And a resounding yes. So off I went. A 7 hour trip to northern Maine, in the middle of nowhere.
I arrived to a small but neat backyard horse farm. Jennifer was lovely, informative and engaging. I asked her why she was selling this little 3 year old, and through tears in her eyes she replied that she had to reduce her herd, so I left it at that. Tyler walked right up to me, and grabbed hold of my shirt sleeve and didn’t let go. Jennifer looked at me and said “if this bothers you this is not the horse for you”. It was obvious he meant no harm, and was just being playful, so of course I said not it’s fine. Jennifer spent the next hour showing him to me, telling me all about him, describing his personality, etc. The usual dialogue and discussions that take place during a potential sale.
After watching Jen work with him, it was my turn to go for a trial ride. The only thing I can say is….he was perfect. I took him down the road, in the arena, and across the street to a huge field filled with curious deer. Thirty minutes later, I sealed this purchase deal with a down payment. I was instantly in love. He showed me his personality one last time before I left to drive home, during a quick bathing session. Jen wanted to show me how he behaved during baths, and what a show. Tyler is extremely intelligent, and 90% of his time is spent thinking about …..play. And play he did! When Tyler is being bathed, the only was to get it done is to allow him to hold the hose nozzle. No discussion or variance here, it’s the only way to get it done. To this day, this hard fact remains trueer than true.
Tyler became my teacher in a thousand hundres ways, unfortunately at his expense sometimes. But he is persistent to say the least, and I had huge lessons to learn. When I look back on what he went through in order for me to learn these important lessons, my heart breaks into a million pieces, but I am grateful beyond description. He has been in integral part of what has made me the horsewoman I am today. No question about it.
My first lesson was tack and riding. It wasn’t long before I had Tyler at my home and now small farm! The excitement within me was overwhelming. My dream had certainly come true. I had worked hard for this, but still found myself immersed deeply in wonder and amazement that this was now my beautiful life. To say the least I was anzious to begin riding Tyler, I was fortunate enough to have miles of trails at my back door, and a neighbor who allowed me to use her riding arena! Oddly, the “perfect” ride I had at Jennifers changed rather quickly after Ty’s arrival, and I was befuddled. I reached out to Jen to see if she could offer any suggestions to help me, but nothing was working. The answer now seems obvious, but all of those years ago, I was clueless, and crestfallen. Something was terribly wrong.
I began to dread riding him. Every step was a challenge, he never wanted to go forward. He tripped often, and trotting/cantering brought about crow hopping, bucking, and falling. Tacking him up could be a nightmare. He refused the bit everytime, and saddling him caused him to run out of the crossties and gallop away. Even more heartbreaking was the fact that he wanted nothing to do with me, if I tried to engage with him his ears pinned and he walked away.
One day, I went to put my hand on his back and he froze, I could tell his back was in spasm, e=he struggled to put his head down to graze. I felt sick and called my vet. She came by and gave me some medicine, and suggested I call a Chiropractor. This advise was life changing. Dr. Steve came out within a few days, he was very clinical and determined. I liked and appreciated him immediately. After about 20 minutes of evaluation, he said the problem isn’t your horse, it’s your saddle. I suggest you ride this horse bare back. I was shocked. All of my riding had focused on show jumping. Always lots of tack and gadgets. Bareback? What? Dr. Steve also recommended at least 6 months of rest for my boy, and weekly adjustments. As a 4 coming 5 year old, he was after all still growing. So we did just that, we rested. And Tyler got immensely better with the chiropractic care, and we also added massege therapy. All good. I was so anxious to ride again, but bareback? How would I do this?
Hours upon hours of research led to the discovery of a simple bareback pad. Again, with my background, the thought never crossed my mind. To ride without a saddle? But I went ahead with it and low and behold, I had my perfect horse again basically instantaneously. Almost………there was the issue with the bit.
Whenever I tried to put the bit in Tyler’s mouth I was met with refusal and defiance. It was extraordinarily difficult to say the least. I STILL hadn’t learned my lessons yet, obviously. He was telling me ”I don’t need this in my mouth”! Oh, wait, what? Ride bitless? I had heard of this once before but never thought it to be a real thing! Back again to some research, an inexpensive rope halter purchase, and wham, we are bitless. Now, here was my perfect horse.
The guilt I have and will always have around not knowing to listen to this remarkable soul will stay with me until my last breath. This is just a minute example of Tyler’s teachings, sadly, there are more to come, again, at his expense.
My next lesson, his health.
The next few years met me with extreme difficulties, challenges and sheer terror. All surrounding Tyler’s health. Again, now I see that he was with me to teach me, what sacrifices he made for me. Such sacred teachings. the first health scare came when he was a 6 year old. I went out one morning to feed breakfast, but no Tyler. I found him in one of the paddocks, head down, glassy eyed, and not moving. There was little to no response to my standing next to him. I was immediately filled with a sense of dread, while emergently calling the vet. She said she’d be on the way when I described Tyler’s symptoms. My vet arrived shortly thereafter and saw what I saw, and said let’s try to get him into the barn. He could barely move, my mind raced, what could be happening to my wonderful frisky 6 year old? Tears streaming down my face. The vet too was puzzled until she took his temperature, and it was off the charts high. She said this was the best news possible as clearly he was sick with a bacterial infection and antibiotics should do the trick. And they did just that, they worked. Within 8 hours Tyler was out in the pasture grazing like nothing had happened at all, he was his usual bright eyed self, happy and engaged. My confusion was evident. The vet simply explained to me that Tyler had caught a “bug”, just like humans. A flu-like bug. But…..he was vaccinated just 3 months ago for the flu? I asked how could this happen? She said, “well, vaccines don’t always work and he could have caught a different strain. “ Continue the antibiotics and keep me posted on his condition. Puzzled but grateful, she drove away while I scratched my head. Another seed planted.
Forward to 3 years later. Tyler and I had progressed beautifully. We connected with the help of learning “natural” horsemanship as Tyler needed to see me as a leader. I learned to establish a relationship with him built on love and leadership. I now always use my education in “natural” horsemanship with all horses within my circle, always learning more and the journey has been invaluable and beautiful. But now, apparently, I still needed to learn more about his health, again a universal lesson, which in my opinion saved his life.
So there we were and Tyler was now 9. As I said, we had progressed and rode frequently, he loved his trail rides so that’s what we did. He went inside of himself in an arena, clearly hated it, so we just never did it. Our trail rides were and are spectacular. He isn’t afraid of anything, and game to go exploring. One day though, I went out back to my pasture and there he was, not grazing, same stance as when he had the flu, and refused to move. Another emergency Vet call. She came right away. No fever this time, but he wouldn’t take a step. After a thorough examination and a big dose of painkillers, she diagnosed him with acute arthritis in his hocks, and he would need to have steroid injections for life. I felt as though a steal curtain had knocked me to the ground. He’s only 9 I cried! What? Her response was that this is very common in a horse his age. Again, what? I was shocked, once again. So we continued on the painkillers and she came out and did the steroid injections. I felt sick. But, he was sound again and life continued on as it was with yearly hock injections, to my dismay but I couldn’t let him hurt. This arthritic episode was followed shortly by multiple abscesses and a terrifying episode of laminitis. He was 10. The vet came out and offered euthanasia and I couldn’t , just couldn’t. The only option was huge amounts of daily painkillers and weekly therapeutic shoeing. I can’t even re-live those days without terror and tears, but 8 weeks later we were gong for hand walks and starting our rehabilitation. And he healed, and did well.
The nagging question at the back of my mind never stopped, why? Why was he getting so sick so frequently? He was only 10. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. The nurse inside of me knew there had to be a “root” cause to all of this. So I started looking, and looking, and looking. I spent most if not all of my free time doing research. Thank Goodness for the internet, it opened up all sorts of avenues. But it took a lot of digging, and then one night, there it was. A holistic equine nutritionist had a web site. A what? What is an equine holistic nutritionist anyway? Within an hour of reading and scouring her site, I knew, and was 100% on board. It was 1 a.m., but I sent her an email right away, and scheduled a telephone conversation. This conversation would change my entire life, my principles, my plans, my world.
Our telephone conversation spanned 2 hours, I took notes like a master’s college student. This one conversation opened the door to where I am now, 100% holistic and organic. My life has certainly benefited from this seed being planted to say the least. And my poor poor Tyler, being the catalyst to these life changing events. I am very happy to say that he is in his 20’s now, happy and healthy as ever. I know we are certainly not immune to illnesses and/or adverse events. He was afflicted 3 years ago with the tick borne illness anaplasmosis, but has made a full recovery. I believe the prior care and feeding he had has certainly weakened his immune system to some degree, but at the same time tick borne illnesses play favorites to no one.
We go for rides all the time, and of course bareback and bitless. I hope we are an inspiration to the folks we run into during our rides, for them to also transition to bareback and bitless. Oh, I know the controversy it arouses, I’ve heard it all. But at the same time I have transitioned all of my horses to this style of riding, and thankfully a handful of acquaintances have discovered this beautiful method. I will expand more later in this blog regarding my current and forever approach to a holistic lifestyle for my horses. And myself actually!
MONEY
Ahhhhh, my sweet Money. His track name was “Get the Money”, and we called him Money for short. Truly another great teacher, and a great love of my life.
I knew Tyler would need a companion/babysitter when he came home to my farm, horses are herd animals and in my opinion it is cruel to have them live alone. I had about 6 months until my barn and pastures were to be completed, so I started my babysitter search. I placed several ads, and my email was soon flooded with responses. I looked at 25 horses, and then I met Money. I looked at him and said, oh, there you are. He had me at hello.
His story is nothing short of heartbreaking, but he taught me so much. He found joy and happiness again after a horrible existence, and he became my rock in many many ways. Here is his story.
Money was a standardbred, a breed I was actually very familiar with. So, I was keen to go meet him. He was 16 at the time I met him. He had lived, worked and suffered his entire life at the track, winning his owners hundreds of thousands of dollars. When he slowed down, he was nerve blocked and injected so as not to feel the pain in his legs, and he continued to race. Just a vehicle for cash. When he slowed down to the point of no return, the unthinkable was done to him. In the middle of the night, alone in his stall and probably sleeping, one of the human monsters who owned him shattered his hind leg with a 2 x 4. I can’t imagine poor Money’s terror at the time. These people called it an “accident”, received the insurance money, and loaded Money onto a trailer to be weighed and sold for meat. No treatment, no pain medication, just a whip to have him stumble up onto the trailer on 3 legs. Unimaginable.
Good luck actually arrived for Money at the auction yard. As most horse people are aware, rescue groups go to these slaughter auctions in hopes of saving the lives they can. A state veterinarian usually accompanies these groups. Thank the heavens above that on Money’s day of being weighed for his price by the pound, one such vet was there. As the story goes, Money was being whipped up a ramp in order to be weighed, and was clearly suffering and in great pain. The rescue group decided to bid on him, pull him out of the auction, and end his suffering. And they won, outbid the meat buyers. The Vet had Money, and drew up the medications for euthanasia, but then, as I was told, looked into Money’s eyes, and this wonderful man had a change of mind. He said he saw too much in this young geldings eyes, that he connected with him and decided against euthanizing Money! Instead, he administered pain medication, splinted the broken leg, and drove him to an equine hospital. From what I understand, this kind man was not of great financial means. So he remortgaged his home, and asked the hospital veterinarians to do what they could. The leg had been fractured for 3 weeks, so it started to fuse mangled and crooked. At the hospital, Money was anesthetized , the leg was re-fractured, and set as best as it could be. A long leg cast was applied, and he went home with the vet and lived for a year in his back yard, long leg cast and all. When the cast was removed, Money was able to walk, slowly, but he could walk. The lovely man donated Money to a rescue where he lived in foster care, on a peaceful older farm, with lots of love.
The woman caring for Money is Candy. When she saw my ad looking for a “babysitter”, she answered right away. Candy and I developed an immediate friendship, for which I am forever grateful. A few days later, I made the short drive to her farm, and met the infamous Money. It was love at first sight for me, he was nothing short of magnificent and gorgeous. He eyes were so bright, he was so gentle. Candy introduced us and she told me his story, and I cried of course. I brought him lots of apples, and said I couldn’t wait to bring him home. She said to me “ I knew you were out there. I was looking for a peaceful home, a loving home where he would be pampered and lauded, adored and appreciated”…..yes Miss Candy, you found it with me.
A few months later when my barn and fencing was finally completed, Candy delivered Money to me. We both cried, and I promised to keep in close touch with frequent updates. I was overwhelmed with joy, a horse of my own at my home. I had worked so hard for this, and my lifelong dream had come true. I couldn’t leave him, and I didn’t for days.
Money was of course a bit anxious, didn’t know me or his surroundings so I stayed with him night and day. I slept in the barn, spent all day long with him only leaving him to run a quick errand or shower. I spent hourse talking to him, grooming him, bathing him, and reassuring him that I would love and care for him always.
The fractured leg was mangled and deformed to be sure, but he seemed to get himself around without much trouble. To be sure though, I called my vet out in case there was something I was missing. She prescribed a topical painkiller in cream form, which actually seemed to allow him to move a little more freely. So we shaved the joint and I applied the cream daily, and life went on. He was able to canter and pace from time to time.
After a week or so of getting to know one another, I decided to try a little ride with him. Candy told me he enjoyed occasional trail rides, at a walk. So I hopped on barback, with a halter and some reins, and we headed down the street for conservation land. As luck would have it, and the undoubtable irony of imperect timing, here came a fire truck. Lights and sirens blazing and blaring, I was certain I was about to meet my end. I had little to no time to react, and basically did nothing but experience a brief albeit magnificent moment of panic. I took a deep breath, and the truck in all of it’s blaze of glory, sped by us, and Money….well, he did nothing. Never missed a beat or a step, didn’t flinch, no reaction. I was gobsmacked. Literally. With tears in my eyes AGAIN I praised him over and over and started to realize the greatness of this soul. When I look back on this moment, I realize Money was showing me telling me that he would never hurt me, that I could trust him implicitly, everyone could. He used this moment to communicate his nature to me. The amazing abilitly of these deeply spiritual souls is beyond my human comprehension.
Money was my rock to be sure. Such a solid citizen. He took care of Tyler when he arrived about 10 days of arriving to this new home himself. Tyler was a handful as a youngster to say the least, but Money guided him with a necessary firm hold from day 1. Tyler looked up to him for so much, especially during summer storms. When the thunder and lightening was SO STRONG, the kind when the walls shake, Tyler would stand close to Money, who never flinched. I know in my heart Money gave Tyler a high leverl of confidence and reassurance, showed him the “ropes” of his new life. I would have been lost without him.
As the years went on and Money aged, he started to fall fairly often, and had such difficulty getting up. My vet said I might be lucky enough to keep him going until he was maybe 25 or 26. When the falling