The Next Chapter

There's been a lot of thinking happening in my small corner of the world in the last few weeks. With Stella and I on a new path, and my life moving into a new and exciting direction, I think it's time to leave this blog behind a start anew.

I will still be blogging about my journey with Stella, but this blog started as a tribute to Ernie, and in honor of him I have decided to leave it behind and begin a new chapter. It will be left up in his memory: I think there's a lot of value on this blog, not just in information but in lessons learned, and I will probably be visiting it frequently.

I am very happy to say that I have found a wonderful training partner in K, who in our very first session showed me a method of round penning so different from what I have learned, and with fantastic results. Last Sunday she came out and tutored me from outside the pen. Stella was wary and wild at first, but by the end she was completely calm, poking around for food, and recognized immediately when it was time to pay attention again and would "offer" to listen by approaching me head on and standing by until I gave direction. The next day I worked with her again and with the same results: we went for a post-work graze and even with the snow covering most of the grass she was completely relaxed and happy to stand in the same spot and nuzzle around. This is a HUGE change from this summer, when the grass was lush and completely visible and she'd still wander anxiously from spot to spot. This time, her eye was soft, her breathing was regular and she stayed with me all the way back to the barn.

This sounds so minor, but for us it's so huge. I'm learning how to press her enough to get a change but not enough to cause her stress, and realizing with K's help that a lot of what I thought was disobedience is actually her expressing confusion and frustration. And it continues to come back to me: what this mare does is a direct reflection of where I am in my own recovery, and I'm continuing to see it. It's proving to be a blessing and a curse, but it's causing a change in me first, and that's exactly what needs to happen.

You can continue to follow us on the new blog, which I will be linking this one to in the next couple of days.

It's Time

BIG changes are coming to a barn near you...well, near me. Actually, my barn, specifically.

It's time for Stella to get back to having a job. And it's time for me to (wo)man up and start getting this mare on the right path.

There's been a lot of hemming and hawing the last year or so. She has a job, she doesn't have a job, she gets worked for a bit, things go downhill...it's been all a lot of hearsay when I looked back on it. How many times did I say I needed to make a change? How many times did I say we were trying something new, different, blahblahblah...well, this time I'm not messing around.

All of this has been about me, and it's taken a lot of intestinal fortitude to admit that I had NO IDEA what I was doing. I brought Stella as far as I could with what I knew, but she got there fast and then we stalled, HARD. What do you do with a horse once the groundwork is established, the saddle is on, the bit is in and you are on their back? When they know how to walk, trot and canter? When the basics are installed? You start asking all the things I don't know how to ask. That's where the trouble started. I waded into waters that were too deep for me, and I sunk fast. Unfortunately, I took Stella down with me, bringing us to now.

This really, oddly enough, has less to do with the "holes" in my horsemanship, and way more to do with me as a person. I've been through a lot in the last 14 months of my life. I've been severely depressed, been in counseling, been on meds, been very lost, scared and anxious about where I was in life, who I was, what had happened to me in my younger years. I felt like I was floundering: I had support but I found ways to subconsciously sabotage their efforts to help me. I was so utterly unhappy, but I was OK staying that way because it was familiar and comfortable, in its own insidious way. I kept trying to rebound, but things happen on their own good time, and this wasn't something I could push along and make happen faster.

So here I am. It seems like it's been forever since I've been on the back of a horse, and it has. I haven't ridden Stella in over a year. I haven't done anything truly meaningful with her in almost as long. I haven't known how, and I've been too far down in my own life to really be there for her.

I'm FINALLY there. I'm at the point where I have brought in help. I'm at the point where I WANT my mare back. I want to be somewhere good, somewhere that works. It doesn't have to be perfect or even pretty, but I want to get her confidence back, along with mine.

Sunday at 11:00AM I am meeting with K, a classical dressage trainer who has worked with some very well respected classic masters in Florida, Spain and Brazil. She specializes in young, hot horses (YES, because guess what I have...) and works on the premise of patience, trust and correctness of mind and body. Her first and primary concern is the well-being of the horse. We've talked through email, and she is everything I have been looking for to help Stella and I on this journey. We will start with Stella on the ground for as long as it takes to get her focus, trust and confidence up, and then we'll get me back in the saddle.

I'm so excited, but also a little scared. I've been at this "starting line" before and it's been frustrating as all hell. I think the difference is this time I'm ready. Truly, honestly ready. I've been looking in the mirror for a long time and acknowledged that this is all me; I've owned that, and I'm ready to give Stella the opportunity she needs to get okay.

More to come.

Great Success! Very Nice!

I know, the Borat lines are probably getting old...but hey, they say everything I need to get across about yesterday's appointment with L!!

We let Stella loose in the roundpen while we talked for a bit. L wanted to get a bit clearer picture of what exactly I was looking to accomplish with her, so she mosied around the enclosure while I described to L what I was hoping for: I told her Stella had been a little difficult to get really close to, and that there was a layer of trust and willingess that was lacking as the foundation of our work. I told her she'd been backed to saddle, W/T/C and basic lateral movements but I could tell the element of trust was missing the further into her training we got. Cut to the chase, 20 minutes later and I mentioned that Stella had very rarely willingly followed me around. So we started there.

Before we incorporated Stella into the picture, L led me through some grounding exercises for myself, things that I could do before I even got Stella from her stall that would help me get centered, focused and present for her. We did some deep breathing, practicing noticing and purposefully softening the parts of my body where I held tension. All the while Stella wandered around with her nose in the dirt. Several times she came over to investigate. She'd stand by us, nuzzling our boots or our coats, nipping at our zippers. She had no problem asserting herself into our personal space. L never punished her or pushed her away. Instead, at one point she started to twirl her arms around herself in a circle, establishing her space. Stella got poked a couple times in the face when she tried to put her head into the circle, but figured out after a minute that the circle was not somewhere for her to be. L said one of the important things was not to reprimand her for being curious and investigative, something we want to encourage, but to simply establish where my space is and show it to her clearly. She would figure it out on her own, and she did.

We then moved on to what L called creating an energy circle. It sounds a little out there, but the logic behind it is pretty simple. If I wanted Stella to follow me, and thus act "followerish", I had to act like a leader, and move and behave in a way that's "leaderish". If I don't demonstrate that I can be a secure leader, Stella can never have the confidence to follow. L walked with me in a large circle around the outskirts of the roundpen. She showed me how to move from my center, taking steps that were grounded, looking up and out through soft eyes and breathing from my core evenly and rhythmically. We did this for a few minutes. Stella watched us intently, following us with her eyes and ears. Once or twice she began to follow but stopped and moved to a different spot to watch us better. I knew what she was contemplating, but I could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she observed. Finally, after about 10 minutes, she ambled up behind us and came shoulder to shoulder with me. L stayed with me for a moment and then said she was going to move to the center of the round pen and leave us alone. Stella stayed right with me, matching my strides and pace.

When L finally told me to slow my pace and choose a spot to stop, Stella stayed with me and halted evenly with my shoulder. I lavished praise on her, scratched her favorite spot at her withers. She responded by curling her upper lip and tilting her head in appreciation. After a few seconds she started to reciprocate on my arm, grooming my coat sleeve. We continued like this for a couple minutes.

I can't even begin to explain how excited I am. This what exactly what I was hoping for, and it all happened without any coercion or frantic running or pressure. Stella decided for herself after watching us walk around. I couldn't be any happier.

I'll email L in a couple weeks as I try this on my own for a while. We'll see where it takes us; she said she had a lot more to show me if I was willing, and why wouldn't I be?

Everything Happens for a Reason

I have good news, and sort of bad news.

The bad news is I haven't formally "worked" with Stella once in almost 3 weeks. I haven't been able to bring myself to. She's clearly lacking respect and interest in what I ask, and I don't want to get hurt (I want to make it clear that in no way is this horse "dangerous"...I've had that discussion with someone who thought they knew what was going on already. This mare is very green, very young and very insecure. She has never attempted to hurt me, but she has given me definitive signs that she is NOT okay. Well, neither am I, so who can blame her...)

The good news is, everything happens for a reason.

I have, on my calendar, a 1.5 hour session with a certified EFMH specialist next Friday. EFMH stands for Equine Facilitated Mental Health; it's what most of us have horses for to begin with. There really is something good about the inside of a horse that does wonders for people.

This woman came on spoke in one of my classes last week and what she had to say really hit me. She described the exact path that I wanted to move towards: taking advantage of that wonderful honesty horses give us and using it to educate people about themselves (only I would be applying it for my own purposes...) She acts as the liason between the horse and the rider/client, helping them get to a place where they are centered and calm and then helping facilitate the relationship between the horse and rider, translating the horse's efforts to communicate to them. In a nutshell, she helps people foster a better relationship with their animals.

About two weeks ago I walked down to Ernie's grave and sat in the snow for a while. The sun was out and the birds were chirping and there I sat, eyes closed. I prayed for one of the first times in my life. I asked him for help: that horse, whether I knew it or not, knew me better than any being on this planet, and I think he still does. There's been things happening with the horse who is now in his stall that make me wonder about his presence...the behaviors are so exactly the same. I know there was a bond between us, and so I asked him to help me help Stella, to show me what it is I need, the tool I was missing the many years I had him.

Fast forward to last Friday. I'd already seen this woman present this amazing discussion to us, something I knew was going to help me immensely connect to myself and thus connect to my mare. I had planned on emailing her that weekend. I had a job interview about 45 minutes north of the college and as I was driving along a state highway, a barn on a hillside came into view on my right. A big, clean, white banned hung across the barn's side. It was the speaker's facility, the one she had described to us in the presentation, where she kept her therapy horses and facilitated so many sessions. I about cried: I think Ernie heard me. I emailed her as soon as I got back to my apartment.

I didn't used to believe things happened for a reason. After emailed back and forth with this woman, I feel unsure but ready. Stella is in my life for a very specific purpose, and I think she knew it long before I did. Ernie started me on this path. He made me a gentler, more understanding horse person, and he left me when he knew I was in good hands (hooves, I suppose). These two horses have done so much for me already, and I owe a lot of what I have learned to them.

I sat out on my boyfriend's porch earlier tonight by myself, drinking a cold beer and watching the sun set. The emotion that came over me was overwhelming: somehow I just knew Ernie was there with me. I raised my bottle to him (corny, perhaps...), smiled and felt my eyes well up. God, I miss that old boy.

Houston, we have trust.

That's about all I can muster for a title.

Today, for the first time in 2.5 years of owning this mare, she willingly followed me around the round pen: no ropes, no halter, no gimmicks, just trust.

Yup.

I'm trying to keep the ego at bay, here. It's a small step, but it's a BIG small step.

Sometimes I think Donnie is a voodoohorsewhisperertypeofguy, because he often tells me how he "has conversations" with the horses from time to time when he knows we're having trouble with them, when stuff isn't going well for us in our personal lives. He told me a couple weeks ago that he had one of these conversations with Stella about me. He wouldn't tell me what he said, just that she responded favorably when he was talking to her. I don't know what I believe in terms of a horse's ability to understand humans sometimes, but I do know that horses get honesty. They get emotions. They read in between the lines, and they recognize the truth when they see it or hear it. They also recognize when you're lying to them.

Today when I went to grab Stella, I wasn't sure I wanted to work her. I wasn't sure I wanted to be faced with everything I've been dealing with. I wasn't sure if I wanted that chucked back at me, her reply being "You're gonna have to do better than that." Donnie came in as I was putting her halter on. He said she'd changed a lot in the past few weeks, that she was unhappy and wanted a job back, that she needed me to be there. I started in on how I felt awful and I was nervous and unsure. Sure enough, like he's done before, he tipped his glasses to the end of his nose, gripped my shoulders, looked me in the eye and said, "listen to me. She is ready. You are the one who isn't. She will help you if you let her."

Hmm...letting someone else in, letting someone help me? I haven't heard that before...

Up the driveway we went, Stella walking calmly beside me the whole way. "Things are going to get better," I said, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. To that she responded with the same: a big sigh, fluttering through her nostrils and a few chews.

She didn't take off in the roundpen when I let her go, even after a week of no work (I've had a wicked cold since last Wednesday, and it kept me from doing much...) She showed her usual displeasure with my asserting what I wanted: whenever she went to drag her nose in the dirt to investigate, I asked her for a direction change, to which she usually replied with a buck and a squeal. "Why can't I do what I want?!?" she said as she cantered around the round pen. We did some things we haven't ever before: the communication is definitely getting stronger and more subtle. I could ask her for changes of direction by only hinting at stepping back. I could push her to a canter by angling my body forward and giving the leadrope a twirl. I could bring her back to a trot by angling my body away from her and breathing out.

After several minutes of changes, transitions and periods of focus, I noticed a scrape on her leg. A few days ago I'd come to do morning chores and found an entire strand of fencing tape down and flapping in the wind, pulled clean through the insulators. I figured Stella and her neighbor Annie must have been playing and someone got caught and spooked as a result, but neither appeared injured or upset so I didn't worry. That is, until I found a solid metal bucket hook on the floor in Stella's stall, ripped clean from the wall, screws still in the holes. I checked her over but didn't see anything.

When I finished checking her leg (while I somehow still managed to miss the small gaping hole in her chest above the big, fluid filled edema....yeah, must be my injury initiation into 2012) I started to walk away. To my amazement, she followed. Hell, she practically jumped up next to me. We stopped, and started again and there she was...

I'm sure you're wondering about the edema and gaping hole. Nothing terribly serious, it looks gross but it's relatively superficial, no puncture or serious damage. The edema is easy to explain: the fluid build-up has nowhere to go, no place to drain to, so it's sitting in a pocket it's created for itself underneath the wound: it makes her look like she's got a saggy boob, but it's not hot, not tender and relatively hard, so the chances of infection are slim. There's a flap of tissue that will probably shrivel up and fall off, no point in stapling. I didn't even call the vet: the cut on her leg has already started to heal, it looks like she scraped enough to take the hair and first layer of skin off. I cleaned it and put goo on it. The hole in her chest was another story, but again, nothing that required sutures. It looks awful but I took care of it myself: Donnie headed her while I rinsed it with warm water, clipped the hair around it, attempted to remove the flap of skin and dabbed at it with chlorohexidine scrub. Some charcoal powder to stop the bleeding, a little antibiotic ointment and a dose of SMZ's via oral syringe and she was good to go. And the mare stood like a trooper through the whole thing.

Gotta love this little girl. Pics to come.

You know who you are.

I have a very good friend out in Germany somewhere. She got me a Breyer model of a Thoroughbred-y looking horse after Ernie was put down, and one that reminded her of the horse she loves, and together like total goons we painted these horses for hours one afternoon this past summer. I miss both Ernie and this friend.

Dude, this is for you (and you know who you are, or at least you should. Cheer the heck up, man, I miss you.)

10 days

It's been 10 days since my last post, but it's been 10 amazing, inspiring, tear-filled, heart-wrenching, grin-laden, wonderful days.

Change is slow, probably because it's so darn hard. When you talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk, right?

Here's what's happen, in a nutshell, over the past week and a half:

1. I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I should not continue to work with Stella by myself, or do anything with her. I was told I HAVE to go seek professional help, that I am not able to read her, and that I am not capable, at this point, of "fixing things". How's that for a slap in the face...this was hard, and I'm not sure I totally agree with everything this woman had to say, but I still respect her opinion and her knowledge tremendously. Let's just put it this way: if I had a couple grand to go spend on a plane ticket for me and my horse and 2 weeks of private training with someone like Harry Whitney or Josh Nichol, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But all you "normal" horsepeople out there know we are BROKE because we have horses, not RICH. So, my ultimate decision was to seek help, but in my own way with what I have available to me.
2. I met with one of my professors, who is close to 30 and a truly amazing women and horseperson. She too, is in the same spot I am: making changes to her style of horsemanship, learning all she can, moving away from the showing world and getting more into what she loves and wants to do. We talked for over an hour, I explained to her where I was, the details from #1 on this list, and she gave me some FANTASTIC insight, ideas and a path to try. I breathed a huge sigh of relief after that meeting.
3. I decided to do something for myself. It needed to happen, it should have happened a long time ago, and with my SO's urging I made and went to an appointment with a recommended hypnotherapist. No, it isn't hypnosis like we typically think of: it's tapping into the subconscious via the power of suggestion and guided deep relaxation. The goal is to ask the mind to help solve current issues by tapping into places in our brains most of us rarely visit in our lifetimes. I needed this so, so badly, and when we finished the session I couldn't stop smiling. I felt relaxed, clear, almost on a high, like someone had cleaned out a garage in my head. I could feel the energy pulsing through my body...it was one of the single coolest feelings I've ever had in my life.
4. #3 was the perfect starting point to begin anew, again. I had a long discussion with my SO, who was so happy I went to see this woman he almost didn't believe it happened. I made him cry on Valentine's Day, something that was both very cleansing and very intimate for both of us.
5. I asked for help with Stella. I've been watching her, observing her the past couple weeks, and taking note of her movements, her attempts to communicate, and what her body says to me and other horses. I arranged for another professor, who teachers the training classes, to round pen her while I watched: we discussed what she saw and what she did in response to Stella. The results were more than I've seen at any point with this mare: yes, she was full of bucks and energy and wanted to runrunrunrunrun and ignore anyone around her, protesting when her focus was called for, but in the end she began to relax, stopped and turned to focus on N, my professor, followed her movements, and when N finally walked away, she hesitated slightly but then followed her to the gate.
6. I've now worked with Stella the last two days on my own. The results have already started to build on themselves. The biggest challenge, but the most important aspect of all of this, is to remain emotionally separated. This is my horse, but I must not treat her any differently than I would any other horse I work with. By doing this, I take pressure off myself (after all, it's just another horse, right?) and pressure off Stella (no human ego or emotions to deal with...just honest communication). The results have been fantastic. In just two days I'm starting to see a change in her response to me: her level of relaxation at the end of the session is growing greater, the time in which in takes her to fully focus on me is getting smaller, and the period of time during which she can "hold me in her regard" (AKA focus on me and only me) in getting longer. Today, after I was satisfied with what we'd accomplished, I walked to the gate to get her halter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lower her head and hesitate, and then meander over towards me, stopping at the halfway point. Big deal right there.

In the grand scheme of the things, this isn't all that much and yet it's everything. I've begun to fully realize how handicapping depression and anxiety-related illnesses can be, how they can reach out to affect everything in your life. Nothing is left untouched, and so you become even more depressed. Depression is, in a word, depressing! I never imagined I'd be blogging about something like this, but here I am, and here it is.

I went down to visit Ernie the other day, the day before I went in for my appointment with the hypnotherapist. His grave isn't marked, so there is no way to tell where exactly he is, but I just know. I started talking to him and after a minute the wind suddenly died and everything was quiet. I listened to a lone bird chirp somewhere in the woods, and then even he hushed. I asked him for strength, something I know he had all his life. I began to cry and what felt like a single breeze brushed the hair of my face. Stranger things have happened, but I know he must have heard me, wherever he is.

All I Know Is I Know Nothing

More people should speak those words. I know I did today.

When you resign yourself to not absolutely knowing anything, the world becomes a much simpler place. I'm not saying lie down, I'm not saying back off, or ceasing living. What I'm saying is something I've been trying to do all along: never stop learning.

I have realized, through the eternal wisdom of my grandmother, that I have not been honest with myself. I thought I was, I thought I was doing what I was supposed to be doing re: Dr. Deb's advice and my new line of thinking. I, however, went from one extreme to another. I ceased to exist to my horse. I became disinterested, lacking energy and excitement and vigor. I just stopped living.

I think I did this for two reasons: I wanted so badly to be in control of my emotions, to have a grip on myself, something I haven't had in a long, long time. I also desperately want my mare to see me as important, as someone worth listening to and being with. Problem is, even I don't want to be with myself most of the time. Pretty hard to convince your horse to stick around when you'd skip town if you could.

I know, I know, I should probably save my whine-fest for my boyfriend. That's not what I intended this blog to be about, and it isn't. We learn things if we allow ourselves to. My grandmother gave me an awfully loaded piece of advice when I went to visit her today. She loves to hear about the horses and hasn't been able to talk with my about Ernie because it upsets her too much to think of him, but I used to talk to her about Stella all the time. She asked me how she was today, and I said what I've said the past few visits, "Oh, she's OK."

My grandmother pointed out the negativity she's been feeling about my relationship with Stella, and so she asked what was going on. All this coming from a woman who knows nothing about horses, but she picked up in me that something wasn't right between us. "It's OK," I assured her. "I'm just starting out on this path, and I'm confused and uncertain and nervous, and so Stella is, too." I explained to her everything I could. Her comment? "It sounds as though you've become awfully withdrawn. Don't you think Stella wonders where you've gone?"

Grandma nailed it. I've become the opposite of overly involved. I've become totally withdrawn, an emotional black hole. Now I don't share too much, I share NOTHING. No wonder Stella has been so slow to trust me. No wonder this process has been so confused and frightening.

Her parting words this evening? "If I know anything, it's that I know nothing."

Pretty loaded words for a Saturday night. But it's something I needed so badly.

New Learnin'

Today, I am embarking on a new journey with Stella.

Some of you may remember me talking about a clinic I attended with a paleontologist/zoologist named Dr. Deb Bennett. Does this ring a bell?

In my own work with my therapist, who I've been seeing since March of 2010, as well as some introspective work I've done on my own with Dr. Bennett's prompting, I've realized some things. They aren't pretty, and they aren't nice to think about, but they are necessary to change before I can have an authentic relationship with this mare (or any horse, for that matter).

I think it's a pretty normal, human thing to resist changing what you know and have practiced for so long. But one of the major realizations I've made is that NOTHING I ask of my horse must come from force, and I MUST have her attention before I can do anything else. This seems simple and obvious, right? I bet a lot of you are thinking, "Duh, you should never force a horse to do something"...any good owner would recognize that. But force isn't as obvious as we think. Force includes pushing on a horse's shoulder to get them out of your space, asking for a movement your horse protests to and continuing to ask anyway, or putting the horse in equipment that makes him assume a particular position with his head and neck. Anything the horse does not do himself is forced. There's no defending it.

Most of us force our horses to do things on a daily basis, and we don't see it as force because we don't know how to properly read the horse's response. Then there are those of us who don't care, but I assume most horse owners do care for their horses welfare and happiness.

Believe me, it's taken me a long, long time to accept this, but I have realized that I am not as good at reading horses as I thought I was. Stella has been telling me a lot, and she's upset and tuned out because I haven't been listening. I haven't been listening because I didn't know how to listen.

So, today I am a Beginner. This doesn't mean I know nothing: this means I am someone who begins at the beginning. I don't start in the middle, or ask my horse for something I haven't prepared her to respond properly to. I begin with Step 1. I think there's a serious misunderstanding about what it really means to be a beginner, an amateaur, a professional, etc. If you have your own agenda, than those terms mean something to you. But they mean nothing to your horse. Your horse needs you to begin every lesson at the beginning, regardless of the level of complexity of what you are teaching. Thus, you should ALWAYS be a beginner with your horse. What you choose to call yourself in the presence of other people is your choice.

Now, before I sign off, I want to note that this is a pretty personal journey for me. As I've stated before, I really do believe that you cannot learn something or do something successfully if you aren't totally honest with yourself. Horses are excellent at pointing out our flaws, but they are equally as patient during our attempts and just as good at showing us when we do something right. We just need to learn how to listen. If what I am saying now, and what I have to say in the future interests you, please ask yourself these questions before attempting to start this process:

1. Why do I have horses? What does the horse do for me personally/bring into my life?
2. What are or were my goals/aspirations with horses?

And finally, the ultimate question: Do I have ANY sort of agenda?

Be honest with yourself. Don't judge your responses, just respond. They will give you information about yourself and your relationship with your horse if you are completely honest. It may be the best thing you ever do for yourself OR your animal, but it only happens if you're willing to let go of previous notions and be totally, utterly honest.

Wish me luck! I've got a post about DIY saddle fitting tips coming up, and of course I'll be sharing my adventures with Stella.

A Word on Colic: Part II

Sorry for the delay, folks. Busy time of year (not just the holidays...exams are upon us! I've yet to pull a real all-nighter this semester, but it's looking like it'll happen this week.)

Now, where were we...ah, yes:

So Your Horse Colicked...

It's a scary thing, to see your animal in such pain and misery. However, once you and your vet have brought your horse through a colic episode (assuming surgery or serious medical intervention wasn't needed), it's time to start the real work: figuring out what caused it. Colic doesn't just happen: it's like a warning light on your car's dash. It tells you there's a bigger problem that you need to be attending to. Unfortunately for us, parts of our horse don't like up indicating the problem area. Bummer, but there are ways to find these things out. It can take some sleuthing, and you probably want to have your vet on board (I had a nice little conference call with mine one afternoon to troubleshoot) to give suggestions.

A lot of this is going to depend on your horse and how he or she has been cared for. You know them best, so use this to your advantage before opting for any major. I'm going to take you through my process for Stella, the exact way we figured out what her colic was caused by.

Create A Horsey Questionnaire

Your job is to come up with a list of questions. You don't need answers yet, just get the questions going first. I actually did this when Stella was having her repetitive colic episodes, and believe me it worked WONDERS for helping me get on the right track.

Questions I included on my list:

• When was the last time my horse was dewormed? Have I been good about routinely deworming her, and for how long?
• Was this one of a series of colics, or was this totally random?
• Was my horse significantly stressed at any point today from exercise, fear, being attacked/chased by another horse, a medical procedure, etc?
• (For mares) Is my horse pregnant/did she just have a foal?
• (For mares) Is my horse in heat, or did she just come out of heat?
• Has my horse been heat stressed in the last 24 hours?
• Has my horse been stressed by cold in the last 24 hours?
• Was my horse denied access to food or water for any lengthy period of time?
• Did my horse have any medical work done in the last 24-48 hours?
• Did my horse travel in the last 24-48 hours?
• Does my horse receive a large grain ration? How is this ration divided up (2 feedings, 3, etc)?
• Does my horse have access to roughage 24/7? If not, how often do they?
• Does my horse have a tense, high-strung nature?
• What symptoms does (or did) my horse present with?
• (If reoccuring) Are there any conditions that are consistent during the colic episodes?
• What are your horse's living conditions (stalled most of the time, some turnout, turnout 24/7)?
  

Many of these you can knock right off your list. I knew Stella wasn't pregnant nor had she given birth, but I wanted to include them anyway to be completely thorough and eliminate all possibilities.

Here's what I ended up with: Stella's colics were reoccuring, not singular events. There was no singular condition that was consistent: she'd colicked in the afternoon, late morning, evening, winter, summer, fall, spring, after being clipped, after being out at pasture, after being ridden, after doing nothing. She always presented with the same symptoms: a symphony of gut sounds, a pattern of lying down then getting up, circling, lethargy, refusal of food/water and lots of gas/manure passing. She responded quickly to Banamine each time. She was on a minimal grain ration and had some sort of roughage 16+ hours per day. She was consistently dewormed and had been since I bought her in 2009.

Based on her symptoms, Dr. B suggested we start with the simplest explanation: parasites. She's been consistently dewormed since I'd purchased her but that didn't guarantee she didn't have some sort of parasite load, especially given her care history was questionable when she was young and horses under 2 are among the most susceptible to parasite infestation.

COURSE #1: Dose her over a period of 5 days with anthelmitics in the form of a PowerPac (you don't have to use PowerPac specifically, I think there are a couple purging systems out there). It was the cheapest route, about 50 dollars or so, and it wouldn't hurt her even if it didn't cure her. I choose to do this directly instead of sending in a fecal sample to do an egg count on, since it was faster and would cost about the same.

Note: hopefully you have a good vet who doesn't want to suck money from you. Dr. B is great: we are on the same page in that with things like these, sometimes the most efficient and least-costly way to go is to just treat. If the treatment won't hurt the horse if it turns out to not have the condition you treated for, it makes more sense money wise to treat than to test THEN treat.

VERDICT: failed. She colicked a week after finishing the Powerpac.

The next course of action was a call to Dr. B. We discussed the possibility of it being related to heat cycles, protein levels in her feed, all sorts of weird, random things. Stuff that has nothing to do with colic and hasn't even been documented to have any relation to colic. We discussed ulcers, but given she wasn't highly stressed and was fairly young and not in competition, we tabled that idea. We settled on a gas issue, possibly caused by a digestive inefficiency or poor digestive conformation (it can happen: a horse with a poorly conformed gut can actually develop pockets of gas that don't move easily on their own, causing colic).

COURSE #2: A feed-through supplement called Succeed, which is basically like a gut-rehab program. It reconditions the gut to work properly from front to back, increases digestive efficiency, helps balance the levels of good "gut bugs", and ultimately gets everything working honky-dory. Some horses need to be on it for life. Some just need it long enough to help boost their system, at which point the body takes over. We planned a 30 day trial to test our theory: she would be fed Succeed 2x a day for a week and then lowered to 1x a day for the remainder of the 30 days. We would re-evaluate at the end of the period.

VERDICT: failed. She didn't colic within the first 15 days or so, which made it look promising. She did towards the end, though less severely, but they didn't go away all together. We considered this a sign that something else was awry, and took her off the Succeed.

Now we were down to a more serious issue. There are some pretty crazy things out there that can cause colic: believe me, I looked up every one of them, and there were nights when I lay in bed wondering what mysterious and awful condition my mare had contracted. Little did I know the answer was fairly simple, fairly obvious and very common.

And the winner is:

Ulcers.

Yes, somehow my barely 4 year old mare had a raging case of ulcers. How it happened, why it happened, I'll likely never know. Studies have shown that upwards of 60% of horses PERIOD (meaning this ranges from your oldtimer in the backyard up to Olympic level dressage horses, racers and big time cutters and eventers) have ulceration of the stomach to some degree.

Most of us think of ulcers as something that only happens to show horses, racehorses, horses who have a propensity for high energy and equally high nerves, and those cranky horses you see in almost every barn who get fed buckets of grain and never leave their stalls. We think, the horse has to be seriously stressed for ulcers to form! Not so, as I found out.

Stella had been worked 4-5 days a week at a very low level (groundwork, long lining, lunging, no riding) for 90% of the time she had been colicking. She did not travel hardly ever. She did not show. She was turned out either alone or with Ernie. Her diet was consistent, and included minimal grain (less than a pound a day) and lots of hay/pasture. She was constantly moving. She was a little nervous at times but she was also green and in training, didn't have a lot of mileage and was slowly gaining confidence. Not exactly a prime candidate for ulcers, but she had them, and based on the frequency of the colics, they were bad.

I had the option of having her scoped, but that meant fasting her for 12 hours, depriving her of water for 6, then loading her in a trailer and driving her 90 minutes north to a clinic she'd never been to, and it would all cost about as much as the treatment would anyway. So I signed away about a grand and put her on a 30 day regimen of Gastroguard, administered in paste form daily. This was all about 3 months ago, and she hasn't colicked or even looked uncomfortable since, nor did she during the 30 day trial.

I am lucky that the solution was simple (though expensive, but hey, horses are cheap to begin with). Had I waited or fiddled with other treatments, her condition could have gotten worse.

Now, I would have NEVER thought my horse had ulcers. We all want to think we're the perfect horse owners, and that we take the best care of our horses. The truth is, you can do everything under the sun and still wind up with illness. It happens. Some horses are more prone to ulcers than others. I will have to watch Stella in the future, and if she starts having mild colics again, she'll go through another round of ulcer medication. But don't despair, there are plenty of things you can do to prevent ulcers and colic in general. May I present The Chronicles of Ernest Colic Prevention Cheatsheet:

1. Do your homework, learn about the equine gut. There are a million and one texts out there, many for less than 20 bucks, that you can purchase. Look over a few diagrams, read about about what happens, from entrance to exit. Honestly, it's the best way to appreciate the most important part of your horse. When you feed your horse, you aren't feeding your horse, you're feeding his gut. What makes your horse happy may not make his gut happy (i.e., your horse does not always think about food with his gut in mind...therefore, you have to)
2. Cut the grain. Seriously, in 99% of horses it isn't necessary; the average horse doesn't need grain. Grains should be considered a supplement, not a feed source. Just like not every horse needs a coat, joint or hoof supplement, not every horse needs grain. With that in mind, don't just throw a few flakes of hay out per day and call it good. A ration balancer (yes, I used the R word again) is a fantastic thing. It gives your horse everything he needs without adding extra calories and starches...excess starches in a horse's diet can wreak HAVOC on his system, causing digestive, hoof and metabolic upset and making him more prone to, you guessed it, ulcers. Your horse's gut just isn't set up to handle grain. If you must feed it, feed small amounts and break it up into multiple feedings, as many as you can manage.
3. Don't underestimate the value of a good probiotic or prebiotic. They are indispensable in giving your horse the little boost he may need. Even a seemingly healthy horse can benefit from adding one: domestication is the worst thing that ever happened to a horse's digestive system. No horse living in domestication has a gut that operates in the same way it would in the wild (not unless you own 1000's of acres and allow your horse's to roam freely year-round with no additional care on wild grasses and shrubs), so this little additive can boost even a healthy horse tremendously.
4. With that said, resist the urge to add "extra stuff". Minimize the extras you put in your horse's diet. This includes supplements: if your horse doesn't need it, don't give it to him. Good grooming, exercise and proper diet minimize 99% of the problems your horse could have, so sometime this week take a detailed look at what your horse gets and decide if he really needs it. It could save you money, and it's better for your horse.
5. Spend money now to save money later. We all know there are things we'd love to be able to do for our horses but can't afford. So, spend the money where it counts now. Don't ignore routine vet check-ups, vaccinations, coggins, dental work, chiropractic, etc. A happy horse is not a sick horse. Spending the money on these things now will limit the risk that something major goes wrong in the future: if something is wrong with your horse, don't assume it'll get better on it's own. Call the vet, be safe, and prevent anything from worsening and blowing up.
6. Go for quality. Feed the best forage you can afford, and make sure your boarding facility has health in mind, not cutting costs. Cheap hay may be nice on your wallet in the short term, but in the long term it doesn't nothing to help you or your horse. Spend the extra 50 cents a bale now. Mold, dust and sickness are not worth saving a few bucks over.
7. Make changes slowly. Feed changes have been proven to cause colic, especially when made too rapidly. Allow for at LEAST 7 days to make a changeover to a different grain, hay, or anything else that goes in your horse's mouth.

I'm sure many of you have other things you'd do, and if they work, keep on going! Horse care is not a one size fits all kind of thing. Horses are like people: they're all unique, and in our care, they all need slightly different things to perform up to our standards. But take care of your friend, for his sake. :) You'll get many more happy years out of him this way.

Wisdom on a Saturday Afternoon

I don't think you need to have grey hair to have wisdom. I think it's just way more common that the grey-hairs (I say that with all the respect in the world) find wisdom because they've had a lot more time to screw stuff up. You don't learn until you mess up, and then recognize that you messed up. And you will mess up. The grey-hairs have figured this out and accepted it. That's where they get wisdom.

I am currently sitting at a desk and greeting the occasional (and boy are they occasional) gym-comer, working for a miserably low sum of money. I have no homework that I am motivated enough to work on, so for the last 3 hours I've been doing what I never have time (or make time) to do: read.

In this process of reading, I have gained wisdom. I have realized I messed up and accepted that this is a fact. It cannot and will not change the past, but it can certainly do a lot for the future. It already has.

See the following article, and really take time to read it, if you wish to know more of what I mean.

http://www.equinestudies.org/fostering_long_life/on_fostering_long_life_pdf.pdf

Love is more than good care. Love is more than the time you spend riding, training and working. Ultimately, love comes down to the bond, the willingness to make the other happy, and the amount of time you spend with them that you are truly, 100% present.

I give this horse credit for why I have gained this wisdom. Being young and naive and stubborn and largely uneducated when I got him, I didn't know enough, I hadn't screwed up enough, and I certainly didn't recognize when I screwed up to always do right by him. I feel awful when I think back on the times I got frustrated with him, jerked the reins, yelled because he was weaving and I couldn't do anything about it. He was not an easy horse to deal with, but I wasn't an easy person to deal with either.

Then I remember good moments, moments where I have to believe there was something else going on, some other force working. The decision I made to take him off stall rest when he injured his right hind was one of the kindest, most humane things I ever did for him. Pictured above was a moment I often enjoyed (as did he, as you can see): finding "that spot" and rubbing until my arm felt like it'd fall off. And then comes "the" decision, to end his life and let him go.

I still have mixed feelings, or at least I did. The human part of me wants to cling to the idea that I could have done more, that I could have learned more, been more educated, done something. I could have fixed him. The logical side of me knows that wasn't possible. I was young, stupid, overly-ambitious and slightly ill-tempered. It's how we learn.

There's also the side of me that fought putting him down: did I do it soon enough (the answer is no, at least in my mind), why didn't I know to do it sooner, why couldn't I see he wasn't right, why didn't I shut everyone else's opinion out and listen to just him? Of course it's a lesson learned the hard way, but why couldn't I be the one who didn't have to go through it?

I've asked myself all of these things over and over and over the past few months. I miss Ernie. I miss him more than I've ever missed anything in my life. But there is no doubt in my mind, seeing how quiet and relaxed and calm he was that day, that I did the right thing. I think it took me up until now to really accept this. It took me up until now to gain this wisdom.

Anyone who hasn't been through putting a horse down will usually try and intellectualize the process: "how do you know? What are the signs?" The answer really is, you just do. If you know your horse, and he knows you, you will know the answer when it comes time. And, you will be able to trust that you will know before the time even gets close.

Now, I have a young horse who is full of energy and life and promise. She is willing and intelligent and quick, and I have a duty to do right by her and listen to her now so I will know immediately when she says "it's time". That's just what I plan to do.