Month: August 2018

I haven’t been writing because…well there isn’t anything to write about. I threw Cruze on the lunge in the arena a week after the farrier last left (5 weeks ago now) and he was still off on the front right even after the abscess blew and all looked good.

It was depressing.

So I decided to ignore his existence for 6 weeks until the farrier came back out and could shoe him. By ignore I mean doing the following:

• Gastroguard daily for 4 weeks
• A nice cold shower when he came in for dinner sweaty
• Fly spray applied nightly after dinner on his way back out
• Hooves picked clean every other day
• Keratex applied twice weekly
• Hoof supplement mixed into his dinner daily
• Lots of pats, kisses and head snuggles

So…you know…real neglected.

What I haven’t done is ride him or lunge him or even hand walk him. I watch him run amok in the pasture and play rear/bite with Pete on the daily and he looks sound. Extremely sound. Sound enough to come flying down the hillside to the gate for dinner nearly splatting on his face because homeboy has no idea where his feet are and how to manage his legs.

See below: not lame.

I just haven’t been able to muster up the courage to lunge or ride him again for fear of that persistent NQR on the front right under saddle.

I’m not worried. Yet. He was 100% sound walk, trot, canter and jumping when he was shod up front. I had his PPE and he trotted off sound for every limb and his joints all looked good on xray.  Trainer gave me two lessons on him and watched him move very well and even commented on how nice his trot was. Then he ripped his hoof off and went lame. With no other explainable reason for acute onset lameness, I’m blaming his bad feet.

See below: also not lame. Both these videos were taken in the last couple of weeks. Here he is trying to stir up Pete to play, but it was insanely hot and Pete had no interest.

The farrier comes out on Wednesday evening and I’m thinking maybe it would be a good idea to throw him on the lunge and ride him this weekend to see what he is like. It would probably be good information for new farrier (who saw him last time but had not met him pre lost shoes and lameness) to work with.

The problem is that I don’t want to. It has been closer to 7 weeks since I last rode and I should be itching to get back in the saddle. Instead..well, instead I’m dreading it. Dreading the moment I put him on the lunge and I see a head bob. Dreading not seeing it but then feeling the NQR under saddle. Dreading bringing him back into work when he has been out of it for so long and I just know it is going to be a bad ride. Much head dragging. Much can’t bend away from the gate. Add in some screaming. Perhaps another buck/rear dump me move? I don’t know.

The first ride back has to happen. If it doesn’t then there can’t be a second ride back or a third and I know those will be better. Its just…I spent so long imagining my next horse. Imagining how much easier said horse would be at the basic level. And well…he hasn’t lived up to what I pictured. Maybe that was all pain related. Maybe he will surprise me now that he should be feeling great again and come out and be the horse I trialed and loved, but there is a tiny pit of dread in my stomach that he wont be. And then what?

I don’t know. If I put it off long enough maybe I won’t have to find out.

It hit me harder than I anticipated. My daily life isn’t changing. I’ll still go to work Mon-Fri 7:30 am – 5:30 pm. Wyatt has been getting dropped off at daycare/pre school since he was six weeks old. It isn’t new territory to put my son in the hands of a stranger to help raise.

Yet I found tears clouding my vision as I walked him down the hallways of his new elementary school to his kindergarten room. I looked around at all the grown up children buying breakfast and settling into the routine of the coming nine months.

And while he is still my little boy I can already see the changes that will come. The independence from walking the halls unattended. The buying of lunch. The making of new friends. The learning.

I’m excited for it all. My job as a parent isn’t to hold on forever but to teach him how to be an independent person who can make his own way in the world. It doesn’t make it easier though as I drop off a little boy and pick up a little man.

Someday soon he will run from the car without looking back. Someday soon he won’t give me a hug goodbye in front of his friends. Some day soon he won’t miss me.

That is normal and it is all a part of growing up. It doesn’t make it easier though as I hold on as tight and as long as I could to my morning hug from my best little man.

I hope he makes friends. I hope he learns not only facts but a thirst for knowledge and a love of reading. I hope he grows in confidence and that some day he won’t need to hold my hand to walk down the hallway. Hopefully he will still want to for a while after that but time won’t slow down or stop.

With the start of school brings homework, grades, paperwork, snack schedules, and teacher meetings. On the outside nothing changes but the address at which we drop him off. On the inside though everything is changing. I’m mostly ready for it. A little sad that this day is here, but excited for the next phase of motherhood.

So bring it on and let’s hope for a good year.

Sunday morning I hopped on the tractor to try to finish mowing the big pasture in preparation to move the horses out there this week. It’s been hard going to mow it between the raging storms every evening and the insane growth rate.

I was heading up the hill when I saw a flash of yellow out of the corner of my eye and turned to see Wyatt coming up the hill. I stopped and turned the tractor off to see what he wanted and next thing I knew both dogs and Wyatt were all on the tractor with me.

Now I’m a tractor nazi. I hate Wyatt being on there with me and am very paranoid about the high level of risk involved with a tractor and the addition of a running bush hog being pulled behind. I kicked the dogs off as they know they aren’t allowed on it and generally aren’t supposed to be near it. They had followed Wyatt out from the house.

Both dogs jumped down and I was talking to Wyatt and turned the tractor back on to go up the hill before kicking him off too. Thankfully I didn’t turn the bush hog on. I’m counting all my lucky stars and thanking every possible higher being for that one. I pulled forward slowly and immediately felt a bump followed by hearing the gut wrenching sound of a dog screaming in pain.

I slammed on the brakes and looked around. Waggy Tails was trapped under the bush hog. I froze. I didn’t want to raise it with Wyatt around fearing the worst and wanting to spare him that sight. Instead I screamed for Dusty who was out mending fences. I wasn’t thinking and poor Dusty heard me and immediately thought it was Wyatt who was in trouble.

He made it to the tractor at a dead sprint and I told him “I just killed Waggy”. Wyatt was sobbing. I was sobbing. Dusty told me to take Wyatt to the house and as I was walking down the hill he raised the bush hog.

Much to everyone’s surprise Waggy came hobbling out without a scratch on her. She was holding her back left leg off the ground but otherwise was in perfect condition.

Lucky doesn’t even begin to describe it.

We rushed her off to Dusty’s clinic and got her filled with pain meds while he got the X-ray machine turned on and ready. The radiographs showed a broken femur and that was all. I feared she broke her pelvis but that was fine as was all the internal organs he could see. Her heart and lungs sounded fine and her abdomen palpated normal.

Again. Lucky doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Dusty texted the ortho specialist in town and set Waggy up for surgery this morning. She will be getting a plate and screws in her leg to hold the femur back together. Poor girl. She will be on cage rest for at least 6 weeks. I’m so glad that I have a husband who cares for the animals like he does and didn’t even hesitate to call the specialist to set up surgery.

I’m glad the bush hog wasn’t on.

I’m glad I hit her leg only and not her abdomen or chest.

I’m glad it wasn’t Einstein as he is so small it would have killed him.

I’m glad it wasn’t Wyatt.

I’m pissed that I didn’t realize she had laid down in the shade of the tire and assumed she had walked off.

I’m pissed I ran my dog over.

But she should be ok. It’s a clean break and not shattered. It could have been so much worse.

Keep her in your thoughts today guys, please.

Lame.

That about sums up Cruze’s life with me. Which sucks for both of us. I had plans for him when I brought him home which amounted to a lot more than one flat lesson in a torrential downpour and one cross country school.

But such is life.

I’ve decided to put him out to pasture, per se I mean he always is out anyway, and ignore his existence until September 5th when the farrier comes back and assesses if he can be safely shod with pads or not.

I’m not going to attempt another arena ride until that point. It just pisses us both off and we get nowhere. Part of his under saddle attitude is no doubt due to being painful though a lot of it is just him trying to see what he can get away with. The problem is that I don’t want to push him like I normally would because I know his feet hurt.

If it ever stops raining I’d love to start taking him out on the trail with his boots on trails I know have forgiving footing. If we are stuck to a walk, might as well return to my love of the trail and get him some exercise and a change of scenery from walking figures in the arena.

In the meantime though, why not spend money?

First, he is going on a course of gastroguard. I don’t like his rough, dull coat and he has plenty of reasons between the move, change in life style, and foot issues to have sprouted some stomach issues. If I’m not riding right now anyway, I figured it was a good time to treat him for potential ulcers. Good thing Hubby is a vet and gets a killer deal on this liquid gold.

Second, I splurged online a bit. He needed a new bit as the chunky French link snaffle was a tad too small and he hated it. He had been going in a d ring myler, so I decided to order one and see if it made a difference. Damn those bits are expensive though. I tried it on him once and it made an immediate difference. No more chewing the bit or trying to spit it out. I only walked but he didn’t try to rip the reins from my hands one time and was much, much steadier and happier. Nothing like a perpetually lame horse with champagne taste.

In the same order I threw in a jolly ball toy with a likit treat. My hope was that he would take to eating that instead of his wooden stall door. Anyone care to guess how that played out?

He took one sniff, threw his nose in the air and immediately returned to the door. Sigh. I don’t know. I’m either going to just remove the stall door and replace with a stall guard or cover it in Tabasco sauce.

The other item in the box was a new girth. He takes a 48″ and hated Gem’s antichafe girth as much as she always did. It didn’t have elastic ends instead claiming the entire length had stretch and both horses really didn’t enjoy it that much. I want to stack the deck in our favor once we do return to riding, so I got him a nice fleece lined girth that he seemed to approve of by not trying to eat me as I slowly tightened it.

Of course the husband questioned why I spent money on tack items for a non rideable horse, but one can always dream of riding the horse you specifically bought and paid good money for to do just that.

The last item was Keratex to help harden the sole and hoof wall.

In reality, my “ignore him until September” is really “don’t get your hopes up to ride while continuing to pamper and coax his health along”. I have texted back and forth with Trainer about doing some ground lessons and learning how to ground drive him because why not? Might as well work on something and it may just help once we do get back under saddle. It can’t hurt.

So that is that. I refuse to get worried or upset until the farrier says he has enough hoof to shoe him. The big guy grows on me daily and has been fun to get to know better on the ground without the under saddle stress. The pace season will start at the end of the month and maybe we can spend the fall hitting those and enjoying the cooler weather together. We will see what time brings us.