Batter Up!

It’s time for a little pinch hitting.  With any luck, maybe some smelly old socks, Admiral will be stepping up to the plate.

Don’t worry, my baseball analogies stop right there.  That’s about all the baseball terminology I know anyway.  Well, except for short stop, but since stopping is a big no-no in eventing, I’ll be leaving that one out!  

Problem Numero Uno: Not a great pic, but her coffin bone
is a little more parallel to the ground then desired.  Yes, this
is what has been causing her back problems.  We think...

We had a very exhausting week last week.  I didn’t realize what a toll it had taken on me until I rudely turned my back to conversation Saturday and wrapped myself up in the comfort of learning.  Very long story short, Nutmeg spent two full days (instead of the scheduled two hours) at MU Vet clinic for a lameness exam.  It was a hide-and-seek adventure helped along by technology and an excellent staff.  Dr. Keegan used his Lameness Locator, ultrasound, radio graphs and a lot of expertise to diagnose and help us come up with a plan of attack.  Dr. Kemper, the intern on our case, was terrific and is going to make a superb vet.  Our vet student, Zack, isn’t headed into equine medicine, but he has a thirst for answers that fit perfectly with the puzzle we brought.


Problem Number 2: Fracture of the lateral wing on her right
front coffin bone.

Getting our Sensors Set-up.

 

The end result: Nutmeg will (fingers crossed) be back in work soon.  She’ll be getting some snazzy new pumps for her back feet and a little extra attention to her front feet as a fracture deep in her hoof heals.  But it will heal!  I’m ecstatic.  She’s grumpy because she had to stay home and Admiral got to go play.

 

 

Our new snazzy haircut.

Twice now, I’ve kidnapped Admiral from his self-induced semi-retirement and tossed him back into the real world and both times his has stepped up in a big way.  This weekend he got to accompany me in a dressage lesson.  He helped point out flaws in my approach to riding, patiently rewarding me when I did things correctly and quietly scolding me when I fell back into my old habits.  It was a really educational session and I am so thankful for the quality instruction and the opportunity to enjoy my boy again.

Nutmeg was such a good girl,
she eventually even won Zack
over with her charm.

He doesn’t know it yet, but Admiral will be doing a bit more stepping up in the coming weeks.  His entry for Longview was sent off today.  We’re going to play it super safe and do the Starter division, which is just two feet.  I want to make it a positive experience for him and I’m happy to eat a bit of humble pie if the leftover goo will help firm up our foundation.

Sometimes it takes getting kicked in the teeth and a big fat lip to teach you to open up those lips and smile.  Every life path has rough patches.   So, do you hideout in the dugout or step up to the plate hoping for a swing and a hit?  This week I gained a fresh perspective.  Sometimes, you just need to charge the pitcher’s mound.  Take control of the game, set the tone.  It certainly isn’t any easier out there, but if I wanted easy, I’d put a quarter in the purple pony at the super market.

The Right Tool at the Right Time

We spend our lives collecting tools.  Through trial and error we learn when, where and how to apply them.  

With Spring comes shedding season and this year, thankfully (we really need the moisture), mudding season.  Its Admiral’s favorite time of the year.  Admiral loves mud so much that he has systematically dug himself a pond in the turnout field.  Apparently he has more sense than the average suburbanite, because he put his pond at the bottom of the hill where it happily collects water and nearly always provides ample mud for his daily play time.  What does this have to do with tools?  Well, I learned long ago that Spring requires a separate set of grooming tools.  A soft brush is worthless when faced with caked on clay and flying fluff.  Admiral’s grooming tools this time of the year include a metal curry and the stiffest stiff brush they make.  Given enough time and energy, the job gets done.  Of course, my preferred tool is the garden hose, but the mud always seems to come before the warm weather.  While the curry comb takes way more time and energy, it is much better for his coat.

Thankfully, the long and laborious isn’t always the best answer.  This past weekend I helped my husband give his dream car a little TLC.  I should have taken before and after pictures because the three plus hour transformation was astounding.  We learned something too.  When waxing a car, use a sheepskin mit not a chamois.  I don’t know what the difference is, but when I was applying the wax and taking half of it off in the same time it took my husband to remove about a foot square of wax, he began to wonder if I’d given him the wrong tool for the job.  I thought he was just being a perfectionist.  Turns out, not so much.  The mit is truly the superior tool and it turned the back breaking project into an enjoyable afternoon.  The right tool makes a difference.

When waxing, Use This

Not This

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve been battling with Nutmeg’s stall kicking habit for some time now.  She does quite well over the winter, but as soon as the Spring Heat starts she becomes a mennis.  We’ve tried every trick in the book: moving her away from neighbors, giving her more hay then she can possibly eat, leaving her window to the outside world open, closing said window, feeding her supplements to lessen her “mare-ish” behavior, keeping her loins warm, even kicking chains.  Nothing seems to help.  When she feels the urge to kick down the wall, she does (or at least attempts), no matter the consequence.  Finally, after a particularly bad night, I took the final suggestion from a friend, “try a horse shock collar.” 

Before we go any further, let me clarify that the horses are outside 24/7 unless their safety could be compromised by bad weather, then they come inside.  I believe completely in maintaining the welfare of my animals and that is why I went to the shock collar.  Stall kicking isn’t just annoying; it’s detrimental to the horse’s legs.  It was time to fix the problem, and so far I’m pleased with the results.

The collar (or necklace as I’ve been referring to it) has an elastic insert for comfort and fit.  The remote has multiple levels of “reprimand” so you can adjust from the most sensitive to the thickest skinned horse.  Plus, it works through walls so I can sleep in my bed and with a touch of a button, remind Nutmeg that stall kicking is a bad idea.  There is the added bonus that she won’t associate the reprimand with me.    

Night one brought ample opportunities to test it out.  Normally when she kicks it is a barrage of kicking.  Bam-ba-bah-da-bam, bam.  With the necklace in place I was able to interrupt the rhythm and she only ever kicked once.  Plus, she left a healthy hour or so between kicking attempts.  I was satisfied.  Night two, she didn’t kick at all.  It might be a fluke.  We’ll see, but for now I’m optimistic that through quite a bit of trial and error and a bit of desperation, I may have found the right tool to stopping Nutmeg’s stall kicking vice.

And now for some further experimentation.  Nutmeg has been having some soundness issues.  We thought they were coming from her pelvis, but I’m beginning to think there is something more.  We’ve tried chiropractic adjustments.  We’ve tried joint supplements.  Now we’re in hunt of the cause instead of just addressing the symptoms.  Nutmeg gets to be a demo horse at University of Missouri.  We’ll be showing off their state-of-the-art Lameness Locator®.  I’m super excited about the experience.  Obviously, I’m not excited about the circumstances that have led to this opportunity, but I am excited to see some of the industry’s leaders at work, trying to pinpoint what has gone wrong and where.  With that information, hopefully we’ll be able to find the right tool and the right time to apply it.

Fingers crossed.  Our appointment is tomorrow.  Sometimes opening your mind to a different approach is all it takes.  So for today’s Fresh Perspective, “here’s to finding tools and learning to use them appropriately.”

Opportunity Found

“Indecision is a virus that can run through an army anddestroy its will to win or even to survive.”
- Wendell Mayes

I won’t lie. Fridayafternoon I was feeling pretty bummed. Sure, the sun was shining, it wasa gorgeous seventy something afternoon and I was off work. A weekend of horsing around loomed in frontof me, but I was near tears. Dear Nutmegwas not sound. It wasn’t her hips and Icouldn’t figure out why, but she was definitely “off” somewhere in that bigbody of hers.

What to do? I had awhole group of friends planning on traveling to Longview to school on Sunday andI really needed to take Nutmeg so I could check and see where we stood. Well, I guess we were standing on three legs,so “Plan B.”

I’m the Master of Plan B, Plan C, Plan XY&Z. Horses have a habit of training that intotheir humans, but I didn’t want Plan B. I wanted Plan A and I wanted it now. In other words, I was stomping my foot and having a right grand pityparty. I’d like to say it was shortlived, that I found solace in the fact that I was privileged enough to have aPlan B, but I didn’t. I tossed andturned and slept like a colicy baby worrying about Nutmeg’s mysterious newhitch.

Saturday was an equally glorious day. Thankfully my horse plans already involvedborrowing a mount for the Hunter Pace. Nothing like a two and a half hour stroll in the sunshine through beautifulcountry to cheer one. Good company andgood friends also help. I received someunexpected kind words of encouragement, yet I was still bummed about my prospectsfor Sunday. A part of me couldn’t giveup hope that Nutmeg would be sound as a dollar and I could return to Plan A.

Admiral says, "Take me with you!"

She made no miraculous recovery although I checked Saturdaynight and even Sunday morning before I loaded up the trailer. Not until Admiral was caught and thoroughly enjoyinghis warm bath did I commit to taking him instead. What prompted this dragging of my feet? Normally I’m thrilled to take the boy out for a romp. Sure, he’s out of shape and cross country isnot his favorite, but he still basks in the attention no matter what he’s beingasked to do. I couldn’t put my finger onmy reluctance until some serious soul searching prompted the thought of ParadiseLost. Riding Nutmeg cross country hasbecome my paradise and suddenly it was not only threatened, but lostcompletely, or so my brain wanted me to believe.

I used the drive to the city for some self-talk. There will be other cross country schoolings. There will be other events. There will be other seasons and as much as Imay not like thinking about it, there are other horses. It’s not like we were missing our only shotat Rolex. I was facing a day of sunshinewith my dear Admiral and many good friends. I might even get to ride the super pony (I did and she was super-muchthanks to her mom). Life really was goodand the sun really was going to shine whether I liked it or not.

All photos by Super Pony's Mom.

It did shine. It was awonderful day. Admiral was a goodboy. I tried not to task his brain orbody too much. We visited with greatfriends and learned a thing or two.

The Super Pony

InParadise Lost, John Milton wrote, “The mind is its own place, and in itself canmake a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…” Too true. So this week I’m tryingreally hard to find my own Fresh Perspective. Instead of Paradise Lost, Nutmeg taking some time off is really an OpportunityFound. An opportunity to put Admiralback to work. An opportunity to breakVaughn to drive (finally). Anopportunity to clean house, wash blankets, build fence, volunteer! So here’s to loosing paradise, at least forthe moment. Perhaps it will put all oflife in a bit better perspective.

Navigating the Straight and Narrow

Isn’t March supposed to be the calm before the storm of activity that April and May bring?  Perhaps more than Mother Nature is confused.  It’s been a rough month full of distractions.  The muck and mire may be trying their best to suck us down, but with Longview a little over a month away, we’re trying to find the straight and narrow.

Nutmeg’s long athletic body is finally showing it’s down side.  In all the snow and wet she’s been slip sliding around and shifting her pelvis out of place.  We are making great friends with our chiropractor and exploring some of the many, many options available to horse owners that want to supplement their athletic horse’s joints to protect them from wear and tear.

As we explore our options and weigh the pocketbook a little event called Longview keeps popping up.  Entries are open, but what to do?  Will we have it together in time to compete?  Should we drop down a level just to be safe?  Should I put the money set aside for the entry fee toward further investigation of Nutmeg’s new found love of the bunny hop?  I have very firm beliefs when it comes to putting the welfare of the horse first, unfortunately life is rarely found to be black and white.

These days I find myself pondering an image from my childhood.  It came from Pilgrim’s Progress when Christian was traveling through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  The graphic depiction showed Christian perilously navigating the thin, winding path with a sheer drop off on either side (side note: maybe this explains my fear of heights).  In the depths of the cavern all sorts of glowing evil things loomed waiting to gobble him up if he should take a false step.  My current tribulations certainly don’t compare in gravity, yet I find myself thinking that we’re at a turning point and these decisions really matter.

Normally I live much like I drive through snow.  I have a clear plan on where I’m going, I set my sights, and hit the gas.  There are moments when I’m jerked around a bit.  I slip, slide, veer and correct, but if I keep on the gas and keep my nose headed in the right direction, we make it there.  I guess its good we live in the middle of nowhere and have very little oncoming traffic as that complicates things a bit.   The point is, I thrive rolling with the punches and dealing with every little hic-up as it occurs.  Driving in a straight line is not my strong suit.  Finding the straight line under pressure is even more difficult, and if it’s buried under an even blanket of snow – forget about it!

Life would be much simpler if the direction was always clear.  Step off the path and you plummet to certain death.  For me anyway, that makes decision making quite a bit simpler.  So, do we keep pushing forward, chancing the footing on the slope of medication?  Do I take a stand, firmly holding that even the slightest indication of a problem, is a problem and life as we know it should halt in its tracks?  Or is there ground to walk on in the middle?  It may not be a Fresh Perspective, but it’s one that we face every day.  Black, white, or gray?  Which way is the best way?