I'm Baaaaaack!!!

I'm sure I'm like many of you in that I have this on-going love/hate relationship with computers, the Internet and technology. Suffice it to say that I wanted to post new entries on this blog, but I couldn't. And yet, I'd stare at the screen, see my blog, have things that I wanted to type and... it just wouldn't let me! You know, kind of like standing at the bottom of the trailer ramp with your horse. You want to go for a ride. Your tack is packed. You made yourself a little snack. You're supposed to link up with your friends on the trail. But your horse just stares at you as if to say, "Nah, I'm not feeling much like hopping up in there right now. Check back with me in a few minutes."

Or perhaps the horse could be saying, "I'll climb inside the trailer when you tell me the secret password!"

By now you understand the problems I was having. *sigh*

At any rate, here I am... finally... and I can update you on a few things. My farrier pulled off Lexi's shoe and discovered a small hoof wall separation that he feels could be the problem. So it was pared out and then packed with cotton soaked in this solution that can only be described as something used for pickling specimens in Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory. Then Lexi's foot was wrapped and bound up like a mummy. The vet-- who still stands by her previous diagnosis of a bruised heel-- will be out later today to re-inspect and take a few xrays. I must admit, Lexi is remarkably better this morning. Perhaps she overheard me telling my husband that if she cannot stand up to the amount of trail riding I want to do with her, I may have to find her a new home as a broodmare. I'm sure she fears that the carrot-to-hay ratio won't be quite as high in the broodmare profession as it is here.

The comments and emails I got were very nice and, in fact, funny! Many of you are so clever! When I mentioned how a support group for people with sore horses might be nice, I got several other suggestions for support groups. One was the Why Does Everyone Have a Horse But Me support group. Since I can still recall being horseless when I was (much) younger, I can sympathize with wanting a horse desperately. Then there was a plea for a gathering of the No One Else is a Horse Person group. Ah, now that can be a sticky situation, where you're passionate about horses and there isn't anyone in your family or close circle of friends that understands you. They all think you're stricken with some sort of undiagnosed mental illness.

You know, when I think of how much I fret and worry about my horses, and how much money I spend on their care and upkeep, perhaps they're right...

You can always leave comments on my blog by clicking on "comments" below. I enjoy reading them!

The Sore Horse Support Group

It has certainly helped me a lot to hear from readers who commiserate with Lexi being lame. The consensus seems to be that just as, "eventually, all horses go lame at some point," eventually the majority of horses become sound again. Misery does indeed love company, even in the horse world.

There's a certain amount of comfort that comes from hearing other horse people tell me, "Hey, I've been in your (horse) shoes myself."

That got me to thinking. There are all sorts of support groups out there, where people gather to share their tales, their struggles, and gain strength and insight from others who are facing the same challenges. I'm beginning to think that horse lovers could also form some support groups. First on the list? The Sore Horse Support Group. We could all sit in a circle, atop bales of hay, and trade stories about our lame beasties. Then again, there's always the virtual world... anyone in the Horse Talk Forums?

As for my lame beastie, Lexi was walking a little better today. But the bulb of her heel is exquisitely sore, so much so that she doesn't even want me to press on it. (Because, of course you know that I have to investigate her foot 19 times a day to see if anything looks different). Following my vet's advice, I slathered icthamol all over her heel in hopes that the tarry goo will draw an abscess to a head.

In the meantime, I have little to do but wait. Wait for my vet to come back on Friday to re-assess Lexi's foot and perhaps take x-rays. Wait for the farrier appointment on Saturday. Wait for my husband to say, finally, "Wow, horses are expensive! And man, how can such a big, strong animal be so fragile?"

Comments are always welcome! Just click on "comments" below.

Why do I Have to be Right?

Have I just experienced the power of a self-fulfilling prophecy? In my last post, where I moaned about being ill (I'm much better now), I wrote that:
"Eventually, we all get sick at some point. I have as much vested faith in that statement as my belief that, 'Eventually, all horses go lame at some point'."

So, guess what? My palomino mare, Lexi is lame.

Like many lamenesses, the cause of the unsoundness remains an unsolved mystery at this point. I've had my vet out. I've spoken with my farrier. I've whined to my sister and my best barn buddies. So far all we can come up with is a horsey version of the old board game, "Clue." But instead of comments being, "I think it's Colonel Mustard in the hallway with the shotgun," it's more like, "I think it's an abcess on her left front with a tiny piece of gravel up a hoof crack."

It probably is an abcess. The symptoms seem to fit: I rode her on back-to-back long trail rides last week, and she was totally sound. She was her usual Energizer Bunny self. The next day it was raining, but she spent an hour or so in the turnout paddock and looked fine. The next day I lunged her and noticed, "Hmmm... Is she a nickel's worth off on that left front... Or not?"

The next day, she did nothing but mosey around her paddock, but she was definitely a little worse. A day later she was L.A.M.E.

Now, keep in mind that when I bought Lexi, both her owner and her trainer told me repeatedly, "Lexi is a prissy princess when it comes to pain. She's a real drama queen."

Nonetheless, when I failed to locate any bump, scratch, heat or swelling anywhere that would indicate an acute injury, I called my vet. She poked and probed and used the hoof testers. Conclusion? An abcess that's forming somewhere near Lexi's heel.

Naturally, being a neurotic horsewoman (oh, you don't know anyone else like this, do you?), I immediately catastrophized. "But what if it isn't an abcess? What if it's _______________!" I filled in the blank with every doomsday diagnosis ranging from a fractured navicular bone to laminitis.

Fortunately, my vet is both calm and laconic. "I don't think that's the problem. However," she added (I hate those 'howevers'), "if Lexi isn't noticeably better in a week, I'll come back and take some radiographs. But let's not go there yet. I think it's an abcess."

I must admit, when I rode off on Wally today to go on a ride with one of my friends, Lexi trotted and cantered several strides in protestation of being left behind. That's definitely an improvement. And I think I can see a shiny, almost translucent area on the bulb of her heel that looks suspiciously like an abcess about to form. Right now I'm heading out to buy some icthamol in hopes that slathering on the black, smelly gunk will help draw the abcess to a head. Or it could be futile and I could just end up with the tarry substance stuck under my fingernails for a week.

I share this saga with you because I know that as horse lovers and horse owners it pains all of us to see our horses in pain. Like a horse "mom" I want to just hug Lexi and give her a smooch and make it all better. Instead, I fret and worry, even though I was fully aware that eventually, all horses go lame at some point.

Want to share a comment or a tale of lameness woe? Just click on "comments" below.

So, Like, How Sick Are You?

Eventually, we all get sick at some point. I have as much vested faith in that statement as my belief that, "Eventually, all horses go lame at some point." But while a sore horse is allowed a few days off until it's sound again the horse's human caretaker (that would be me) doesn't get to enjoy such luxuries. I may be sick with what I can only imagine is the flu but darn if my horses don't continue to eat, poop and require some sort of exercise. That means that after Night Number 3 of coughing til dawn and wondering if my head would explode if I blew my nose one more time, I still had to stuff my feet in my boots, trudge outside and feed, muck and turn out my two horses.

I have to admit, once I do get moving, I feel a little bit better. Nothing unstuffs nasal passages like a brisk whiff of soiled horse bedding being forked into a wheelbarrow.

Then there's the sneeze trade-off: I sneeze and Wally obliges by wrinkling his muzzle and blowing horse boogies all over my parka.

When I'm not feeling well, I try to decide just how sick I am. The Illness Threat Level escalates depending on how much or how little I'm willing to do. It goes something like this:

Too Sick to Browse at Tack Store
Too Sick to Surf Internet Horse Sites
Too Sick to Buy Feed; Call for Delivery
Too Sick to Ride!!!!

If I'm too sick to ride then I've probably also contacted my doctor and am gulping antibiotics like my mare chomps down carrots.

To me, there's nothing much worse than being so ill that the mere idea of riding makes me groan. What's worse is being in a haze thanks to antihistamines or cold remedies. That's when it's unsafe to ride. It may even be unsafe to handle horses, depending on what sort of horse you have. For example, I'm not sure I can dodge Wally's playful antics if I've taken Benadryl. The horse and I seem to be existing on separate levels of the space-time continuum. Because of this altered state of existence, I believe that some medications need to come with warning labels for horse people. In addition to the ton of labels already plastered on prescription bottles and over-the-counter cold relief products, there should be one that reads: WARNING: Do not attempt to handle or ride horses while taking this medication.

Aren't horses as liable to cause us damage as working with heavy machinery? We get those labels all the time: WARNING: Do not operate heavy machinery while taking this medication. Uh, I hate to tell the pharmaceutical companies this, but when I'm sick enough to be consuming medications, I'd much rather wield a gas-powered chain saw than attempt to blanket Wally in a thunderstorm.

Between sipping bowls of chicken soup and cups of hot apple cider I'd love to read your comments. Click on "comments" below or email me at: hc-editor@bowtieinc.com

Praise for the Older Horse

Why do so many horse lovers shy away from buying an older horse? This is a photo of Mary, a non-descript bay mare we owned for years. We all rode her: me, my sister, our nieces, visiting friends and relatives, even my husband. My sister and I knew that Mary would babysit our mother,too, so we'd toss a western saddle onto Old Mary's back and our mom would climb aboard and ride Mary in our arena and on the trails. Mary was at least 15 when we bought her, and at least 20-s0mething when things in our family changed and Mary needed to go to a new home. She became a well-loved babysitter in a neighbor's family.

There are lots of older horses out there, just like Mary. Though they may sprout gray hair on their faces, and their teeth may grow long and yellowed, they are valued, reliable horses for beginning and novice riders. In fact, many an older horse-- providing it's still sound and spry-- makes an excellent mount for more experienced riders. The older horse is often blessed with a decade or more of training, making them a suitable team mate for a skilled rider.

Two of the best horses I ever competed were well into their 20's while I was winning hunter championships and hunt seat medal classes on them. They knew their job and they seemed to live for the atmosphere of the showgrounds.

I guess I'm bringing up the topic of older horses because it seems that more and more often I'm crossing paths with horse lovers who are in the market for their first horse-- or they're saving for their dream horse-- and it's usually a horse that's really, really young and really, really green. I'm talking even yearlings. Not that there's anything wrong with buying a baby and starting it yourself, but... It's undeniably a long, unsure process and you might not end up with the horse you thought you were going to have.

I just wish more riders would consider an older horse. These old souls have much to offer. And though they may sometimes be a little creaky in the joints, or exhibit other signs of age-related wear and tear, their character, charm and training often make up for the extra TLC they need.

If you have any comments about older horses, you can share them by clicking on "comments" below.

My Take on Horse Tripping

Often I feel like I've gotten to an age where I've seen and heard just about everything to do with horses. Not much surprises me. But the so-called "sport" of horse tripping still does. I happen to live in an area of Southern California that's home to a lot of horses. And, like much of Southern California, there are quite a few people with ties to the Mexican community. Both of those statistics are all well and good, however, when they converge together what sometimes results is a clash of cultures. That's how I first discovered horse tripping. A couple of years ago there was a small, impromptu sort of Mexican rodeo-- and I use that term loosely-- held at a dusty regional park on the fringe of my county. What brought the event to my attention was that the sheriff busted the gathering for including horse tripping in its events. What stuck with me was a comment from one of the spectators that they didn't understand all the hoopla because the horses used in the tripping contests were on their way to the slaughterhouse, anyway.

Well, but fortunately horse tripping has been illegal in California for several years.

Phoenix, Arizona, is currently wrangling with the issue of horse tripping. You can read about one city official's attempt to ban it on Horse Channel by clicking here:

An Attempt to Put the Drop on Horse Tripping

If you're like me you probably cannot fathom what the heck motivates someone of any cultural or ethnic background to perceive horse tripping as a "sport," especially not one worthy of a human being in today's (allegedly) enlightened society. However, if you'd like to get some background on horse tripping, I suggest starting here:

A Look at Horse Tripping

It might not make you feel any better about what can happen in a Mexican charreada, but you'll be better informed.

Please feel free to add your comments about horse tripping to the Horse Channel article. Or you can comment here by clicking on "comments" below.

My Comments on Your Comments

I enjoy reading feedback on my blog, which is one of the reasons I decided to make a change from writing a monthly column in Horse Illustrated. The Internet affords me a certain feeling of being connected to readers that I didn't have with a print magazine. Many of you have shared funny, emotional or downright scary tales in response to some of my blog topics. Here are just a few that have stuck with me:

When I wrote about my fall off of my mare, Lexi, just before Christmas, I received some sympathetic support from others who'd endured a face plant or worse. There was the tale of the gal who was riding her brave green pony around a cross country course. The second time through the water complex, the pony lost much of its bravado, shied, and sent her face first into the water. She was drenched. Of course, she had to be wearing a white shirt and an orange bra.

Several readers told how their horses had succeeded in scraping them off thanks to low-lying tree branches. Got to watch out for those trees! And there was the case of the rider whose horse took off in a bucking frenzy, figuring it was playtime, as it galloped off toward its four-legged friends. She, too, came off in a most unglamorous fashion.

As could be expected, I've gotten lots of comments every time I rant about our weather. Honestly, it makes me feel a little guilty about wintertime in Southern California when readers tell me what they're enduring. I may have horrendous wind, but at least I'm not like a reader in Minnesota, who considers it to be "warm" when she can ride in only 3 layers of winter clothing. And when I described my dilemma of worrying about what to do with my horses while the wind was howling like a freight train, another horse owner offered that she had fantasized about building a basement specifically for her horses. You know, just for inclement weather. She shouldn't feel silly about that idea. On one particularly windy night I almost brought my horses into the garage!

But the most impassioned responses that I received were inspired by the blog I wrote about the group of young riders I teach. I explained that I often feel conflicted and discouraged about the sport of competitive riding: that to really accomplish much in the show ring costs a small fortune, and it's simply out of the reach of most families. I encouraged riders who are nonetheless determined to compete to find a level of showing that they can afford, and to be the best they and their horse can be in that arena. That sentiment struck a chord with many readers, all of whom loved their horses, enjoyed pursuing the art of horsemanship, but had to struggle to find the time and the money to compete.

On a slightly different topic, one adult rider who earns extra money giving beginner lessons to local riders described her predicament. The only way she can afford to compete is to supplement her "horse fund" with the money she earns giving these entry-level lessons. But doing that strips her of her amateur status, forcing her to compete against professionals. "I don't want to break the rules," she said in an email, "but it doesn't seem fair that my dinky lessons suddenly put me and my cheapy backyard horse in the same division as full-time professional trainers who are riding their clients' imported, six-figure horses. Maybe you should write about that in your blog."

Maybe I will someday.

In the meantime, if you'd ever like to share a comment or respond to a topic you can always click on the word "comments" below or email me at: hc-editor@bowtieinc.com. I try to respond to every comment or email that I receive... providing the winter weather or my horses haven't driven me temporarily insane.