One Week Ago Today...

I didn't know if we would have this handsome mug here with us ever again.

But he is.
And he WILL be.


Sonny is doing better than I could have dreamed. Tonight in fact, he TROTTED two whole strides to come to me, to get me to swat a big horsefly on his butt.

HE.
T-R-O-T-T-E-D.

And it was all I could do NOT to bawl-this time with joy. (Yep Jackie, I was eyeballing that red mane, looking for the perfect place to bury my face in.)
Dear Husband was looking out the window at the time, and saw the trot, too. Even he looked all teary eyed!


Treatment for Sonny is still hand walking and grazing, but he is now allowed "outside" time during the daylight hours. (I am still too paranoid to let him stay out all night long.)

His hind legs continue to strengthen, and the persistent swelling in both hocks is slowly slowly going away. He stays wrapped over night, with cold hosing and rub downs every day.

All in all, it has been a bear of a week.

It IS getting better though.
The Bunz is better.
Everything else is secondary
and we can cope with it.

Maybe Stronger.. But Then Again...

Maybe not, too.

Last night, Sonny Bunz kicked at a big fly on his belly. First time since Monday that he was able to do that, and it might have been best had he not kicked it. Poor guy about fell over.

Today, when I pulled into the drive after running a quick errand, he was looking away from me down towards the woods (again) and spooked. As he tried to turn, once again that big red hiney wanted to go out from under him. But considering all he went through, he is still doing better than he should be.

He seems happy enough to hang in the stall all day. Which is a MASSIVE blessing as most horses on stall rest become handfuls. Not Sonny. Lately he spends his days eating, washing hay in the water tank, and stretched out napping. We hand walk twice a day, and in a day or two I might up that to a third walk, depending on how he is feeling.

Today, we left the stall gate open so he could wander as he chose. What did he do? Stayed in his stall all day. At least he stuck his tush out of the door to poop. That was quite considerate of him I thought.

All in all, we are happy with his recovery thus far.

And on that note, with my dog once again snoring next to me, I do believe it is time to go to bed. It has been a very long and trying week, and several times today it was all I could do not to bust out into hysterical tears. Now what would that accomplish? Not much of anything, other than making my eyes red and nose runny.

Oh- on a lighter note- Did you know that bandaging with a busted up index finger is darn interesting? ;)

Finally Friday...

Pals

It's here. It's Friday. (Holy crap- it's FRIDAY already??) I managed a solid five hours of sleep in a row overnight last night, and the world looked better this morning. We managed to beat the rain this morning, with our now routine stall mucking, hand walking and grazing, which Sonny Bunz was VERY happy for. It rained so much yesterday that we had to skip our walks. No point in dodging lightning, right? (That would be just wrong- to have either one of us be hit by lightning...)

I sit here now, looking out the window to see my horse safe in his shelter, munching on his hay. Thunder rolls in the distance, rain is starting to fall, but I know where my horse IS, and that he is safe. The horror is slowly starting to fade- a little bit. I still have not yet gotten to the point where I can leave him with no one home. The thought makes me feel literally sick to my stomach. At least I don't feel like passing out anymore - that has to be a step in the right direction.

This week has been an education on so many levels. So many.
"But MOOOOM! I don't wanna leave the grass!"

One of the biggest things I learned? My Dog Is A Wimp! Don't get me wrong- Jo the Wonder Nanny Dog ROCKS. She is the sweetest ol' girl a family could ask for and we love her tremendously. But a guard dog she is not. In fact, generally the only time she barks is when I vacuum.

Now normally, Good Ol Jo will go pretty much anywhere with me, and is not more than ten feet from me. However. She has apparently drawn a line in the sand, and if it is dark out, she won't go out. Period. I have tried all week long to get her to venture out with me to check on the horse in the still of the night. Know what she says? "Yeah, right Mom. I don't even LIKE the horse. And it's DARK out, in case you had not noticed. Everyone else is sleeping, and I am headed back to my couch."

Rotten freaking dog.

The next thing I learned? This is more a "remembery" actually, and that remembery is I Hate Cleaning Stalls. Regardless, Sonny gets his picked and cleaned several times a day. I can't stand the thought of him needing to lay down, and not having a clean bed. That would be like asking one of my Little Mens to sleep in a dirty bed- just not going to happen.

The next "remembery"? Rehab is intense. It is time consuming. And it is a JOY. A new stage to this is I now have a wonderful helper. Cub has been out there, hands on, with me every step of the way. From grooming sessions, stall cleaning, bedding back, bucket scrubbing, and walking, Cub has not missed a trick. He keeps an eye on Sonny, and gives me reports while I muck, and he asks tons of questions about what we are doing. Wrecking Crew? Well, he comes out, pets Sonny, and wanders off on his merry little way. Cub though- that boy loves this horse. (Geesh- brings tears to my eyes just thinking about the two of them together.) Cub will even pop up and look out the window to check on Sonny, from which he gives me a full report. "Mom, you need to pick that pile of poop up before Sonny steps in it."

For Sonny's part, I think he is pretty happy to be home. He is getting all KINDS of attention, and is enjoying his local celebrity status. He thinks he is ready though, to do a bit more than those hind legs are willing to just yet. (Today for instance, he was doing his "sneak up on the dog" routine while he was grazing. Jo was flopped in the grass, about eight feet in front of us, and Sonny was carefully slowly sneaking up on her. He still can't pounce on her, but he was trying to at least scare the snot out of her. You could see the wheels turning..."If I go slow, with my ears up, she'll never know I am going to get her...") When he can flex both hocks enough to reach up and kick at those nasty green headed horse flies, then I think he'll be OK to start turning out. Until then though... well, he still has times when his back end seems to loose communication with the front end and it gets weak and very wobbly. He gives me a work out slapping those flies off him while he grazes! Cub even gets in on the action- "Oh! There's one Mom!" and, "NICE SHOT Mom! You got that rotten bugger!"

The rains fall here at Command Central, the Little Mens are quiet, and Jo is sleeping - again- by my side. Sonny is happy, dry, and has loads of hay in front of him.

Life. Is. Good.

Happy Hoofin', Y'all.
~MM

Thankful Thursday

Swollen Hocks

Abrasion- healing

Big, soft eyes enjoying grass

Loves his Little Buddy

Nap time- happens several times a day

The past few days have been incredibly hard. Wait- the DAYS are OK, aside from the occasional uproar from the Little Mens. Nights however, are a whole different story. Last night, for instance, was a bad one. Since Sonny came home, I have been up.. well, a lot. Monday night, I slept all of two hours. Tuesday night, I was up and down about six times, checking him constantly. Wednesday night at 12:30 I was out with him, in my jammies, slip on shoes, hair standing on end (I had taken out my braid and my hair went nuts in the humid air.) Oh yeah- the shotgun too. A girl can not be completely dressed with out her weapon of choice, right? Besides, that lovely shotgun just looks fantastic with my purple pull over....

Sonny was unsettled. He kept snorting quietly and blowing a bit, looking off at the darkest spot by the road. The back of my neck was prickly, and I was uneasy too. I didn't come in until Sonny settled, around 1or so, and stayed up until about 2 to make sure all was well out there.

Today it's raining, and I decided to skip the hand walk. Two times might have been too much yesterday, and Sonny seems content to stuff his handsome face with lots of hay and rest as well. His legs are still sore, and I worry about his hind end, but little by little he seems to be gaining strength. Stall rest might wind up continuing for a while yet.

So my Thankful Thought that is getting me through today? Sonny is ALIVE. And HOME. I can look out my window and see him. I can walk out my door and touch him, and bury my face in his mane. Too many people out there never get that chance again.

A very good friend of mine summed it up perfectly yesterday. She said, "Sonny did not escape, and survive running down the highway and falling into a pool only to come home and die. He will be OK."

And on THAT note, I'll stop now. Enjoy the pictures of Big Red!

Wednesday Update on Sonny

I took a few pictures today of Big Red, but have not loaded them. Was hoping to do a Wordless Wednesday post with them but... well, this thing called "Life" happened and I am too bushed right now to do much more.

All is well though- or well enough for the moment.

We tried two short walk-to-the-grass sessions for 5 to 10 minutes of grazing. The morning session went well. Tonight started with a careful walk to the grass, which went fine. His hind end seemed to try to buckle under him twice. The first time I kinda thought he was trying to snap a hind leg up towards his belly to kick at a fly. (He wasn't - upon further observation, it is apparent he is not quite strong or stable enough yet to do that move.) The second time it was obvious, so we slowly and carefully made our way back to his stall. Bunz was not impressed, as the grass was tasting quite lovely, but.... the thought of him falling out there and doing more damage to already stressed and weakened joints was more than I could handle today.

Tomorrow is another day.

And there will be a Thankful Thursday post, composed primarily of today's pictures.

I have also been thinking about what we have learned from this, and how could this situation help others? There is a post brewing. Upon completion, it will make it's way here, in hopes of helping someone else and their horse in any way we can.

Meantime, keep the prayers, jingles, and good wishes coming. They are WORKING, as overall the Bunz Man is really doing better than we had hoped for. The emails and comments have been a huge spirit lifter for me, and there is no way to express how much it means. There sure are a lot of good folks in the world and it sure seems like the equi-blogosphere has formed a great group!

Happy Hoofin' Y'all. Pictures tomorrow, to compare hock sizes!
~MM

PS- Mikey says she will paint her helmet Hot Pink, and has PROMISED to wear it. Soooo do we need to send WADE a care package instead? Like... Oh, I dunno.. some hot pink duct tape to keep Mikey in line? (Pssst- Mikey-- don't kill me!! hehehe)

Sonny Tuesday Update

Update On the Update:
Bunz is resting well. He is able to get up and down easier than we thought he could, is eating like a ... well, like a horse, and has a good outlook on things. In fact, he is doing better than any of us thought he could for about 10 days. Today we went for a short stroll to the Magic Tree, where I unwrapped his legs, cold hosed him, and rubbed him down. Once his legs dried, he got a good brace rub done, and re-wrapped. His off side hock is still HUGE, but the near side hock is better. The only worry right now is that he drags his toe/ leg when he moves on that near side hind. We walked for 5 minutes, and I let him graze for 5 more, and he slowly made his way back to the "stall" for some fresh cool water, a nice pile of hay, and his fan. Man alive is this ever a potential for a Spoiled Rotten Monster In the Making...

He is getting Bute 2x a day, plus meds to help his sensative tummy. We are cold hosing, keeping him in standing wraps, and rubbing him down well a couple times a day as well. And, provided he continues to be careful and not strain anything, he will also get hand walks a time or two a day, gradually increasing the length of time.




First off, I can not possibly thank all of you enough for the well wishes and good thoughts sent our way for Big Red here. It means more than y'all know.

Monday was rough all over- between Sonny's incident and then someone I consider a very dear friend getting the snot beat out of her (MIKEY), then hearing from my sista-from-anotha-motha Heidi the Milk Man's Wife some bad news there too, I think we all need to pray that this week smooths out all around.

In fact, I think a collection plate needs to be passed, to hook Mikey up with a Hot Pink Brain Bucket!! What do you all think? (I can hear you now Mikey-- and I know I know... But come on HOT PINK!! It's TOTALLY YOU!!)

Time for a Sonny update:
I spent all last night up, watching over him. (His make shift stall is right outside our living room window, so I was able to perch on the couch to keep an eye on him.) He kept slipping out of the stall on me (it's a cob job attempting to enclose his shelter,) and at 3:30 I was out trying to fix it. By 5AM I had him secured, and he is still in there, secure.

He is eating, drinking, and making a mess, nickering and demanding carrots. While his attitude is bright, he body is not so good.

Both front legs look... well, acceptable. His hocks and hind legs have blown up quite large, and his hind end balance is quite poor. We are going to try and hand walk him for at least 5 mins today, to see if that helps reduce some edema and encourage the joints to loosen a tad. Wish us luck...

No word yet on anyone seeing anything, but... well, I don't really expect to hear anything like that. I still feel sick over this all, and we still have to face the fact that his hind legs may not make a recovery. If it gets right down to it, we will NOT let him suffer. Period. He has been through enough pain in his short life, and I will not subject him to more.

But I sure as shooting am praying my heart out that he can pull through this.

I Lost Ten years Off My Life Today

UPDATE: Sonny is sore. (Dude that is like, the understatement of the YEAR) His near side hind fetlock joint and pastern have shown signs through the day of weakening and we strongly suspect more of a problem there than in his hock. He has laid down in his bed for about an hour, and was able to get back up. He is eating, drinking, and messing his bed as per usual, and has nickered for carrots, but is extremely sore and very, very, VERY worried about moving his hind end. He is in a very deeply padded stall for the night, and will remain on stall rest and very close supervision for the next few days. Our wonderful vet checked him over, and we have a game plan... However, until some of the pain and swelling subsides, we are looking at Wed-ish to know the full extent of the damage to his near side hind leg.

I am still in shock. Ready for a hard alcoholic beverage, but knowing I will hold off so that I can keep checking on my big red pal overnight.

**********************


Actually, the signs started last night as I had Sonny Bunz out on the line, doing some messing around on the ground and mowing the lawn a bit. He was snorting and blowing towards the road side of the yard, and kept almost insisting that someone was out there. I blew it off, thinking it was deer in the brush.

At my 10PM bedtime check, Sonny was eating hay. Still somewhat unsettled, and more alert than usual, but he was OK.

I had a hard time falling asleep, as did Wrecking Crew. Finally about 1AM I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard Sonny Bunz -- he was doing those giant snorts and then he ran off to the far end of the paddock. All was quiet, so again I blew it off thinking it was deer that popped up and spooked him.

Daylight rolled around, and the children dragged me out of bed. I staggered about, trying to wake up, and getting clothes for the kids. I looked out the window, as is my normal morning habit, and saw the fence down.

My heart stopped.

I yelled out to Dear Husband, and he and Cub hauled butt out the door to see if Sonny was hanging out at the far end of the paddock.

No Sonny.

No Sonny ANYWHERE.

I tracked him a bit, and found where he hit the highway- and lost his track. (Training as a former Search and Rescue member in the mountains in Tundra Country helped out here.) I flew back to the house, and we investigated the paddock more.

What we found stopped my heart, stole my breath, and left me shaking.

There were foot prints in the soft mud/ dirt where the fence was cut. Not down- not taken down-- the fence was CUT. The prints were not mine, not Dear Husbands, or either childs, nor were they Johnny Reb's or Granny's.

My horse was gone.

I called the police and within 20 minutes an officer was out investigating. We showed him all we had found, and he looked me in the eye, and said, "Ma'am, I am calling this in as a stolen horse."

Again- my heart stopped. Little black dots danced across my vision, and I had to do some serious deep breathing to stop from either throwing up or passing out.

Hours later, after combing the road sides, searching for any sign, stopping and knocking on doors, and calling everyone I could think of here, we hit on a lead. About an hour after the initial lead, I had tracked him down.

Sonny was alive.

Around 1PM, he was back home.

He apparently had a night to remember, what with someone cutting his fence down, and sending him out on his own. Were they stealing him? Did he get a case of the ass and get away from them? Were they just stupid jerks f*cking around just to see what would happen if they cut the fence and sent the horse out? Who knows...

Sonny made his way somehow about a mile down the road, and back down a little road. Dogs at the home started barking, waking the home owners. The Husband went out to investigate, and found Sonny laying in the lawn. He eased up to him, thinking the horse was dead, when Sonny picked his head up and looked at him. Husband went to get a rope, to catch Sonny and lead him to their barn, and Sonny got up and followed along.

Unfortunately, Sonny found their swimming pool.

And fell in.

The deep end.

Fortunately (maybe?) the pool was empty so he didn't drown. But he did manage to screw up his legs pretty badly.

The Husband managed to coax Sonny up five tiny steps out of the pool, and into their barn.

Below are pictures of his injuries- scrapes on three legs and a hugely swollen hock that he isn't walking on all that well. Plus a large lump on his nose.

But he is home. All I could think was about those people who never find their horse, or if they do, it's too late. I don't really care if we can never ride again- as long as he is HOME.

Now comes time to strengthen defenses here. Cause if that bastard that cut the fence thinks he can get away with this again, he is going to get a shock and a half when he meets the barrel of my shotgun.

Updates at Command Central

The newest news is my hand, and what the heck did I DO to it.... A bit older news is a change in the equine population here.

I'll start with my hand. Bear with me, as typing mainly with my left hand has not gotten any easier.

Here in the Southland, we have bugs. Lots of bugs, all over the place. Usually this is not an issue, except for that time of year when they attempt to invade your home. No matter how OCD one is about cleaning, (*cough cough* that would be both Dear Husband and I,) bugs still try to winterize inside.

It was late- past my bedtime. I've been staying up in order to talk with my younger brother the past few nights, and get updates on a bad family situation up in Tundra Country. As I hung up with Shorty, (he has been known as Shorty since he was about 3,) I spotted not one but two bugs attempting to cross the floor. I snatched up a shoe, whacked one bug flat as can be, and turned to pursue his partner. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! ... The little.. err.. bugger ran away, since my aim sucked. (Note to self- next time, use the .45. Aim is better and I won't muck up my trigger finger.) The fourth attempt was lined up, down came the shoe with great ferocity, and ... and.... it still hurts when I think about it. Somehow, I changed my grip, positioning my right index finger in a very poor manner, and my finger took the brunt of the blow. Directly into the floor. At a very dangerous angle.

Stars exploded across my rather cob webby vision, and flames of pain shot up my arm into my shoulder. Gasping for air, trying desperately not to pass out or vomit, it was easy to deduce from the audible crack on impact that there is a break in there. "Splint 'em where they lie" was the EMT motto from back in my training, so... we did. Dear Husband got me ice, pain meds, and we jury rigged a splint and off to bed I toddled.

Two days later, the scenery has not changed much. There is still a good bit of swelling, pain if I hit it (like on the bathroom door knob or the edge of the shower,) and a really interesting bruise. This too shall pass, in time.

Onto the equine population change:
Rock Star Pony, "our" wonderful little fellow, had to move back closer to his owner. Sonny has been somewhat mopey, as have Cub and Wrecking Crew, but all in all they are all doing much better than expected. Sonny has been making the most of it, getting cool baths, extra carrots, and as much "Mommy Time" as I can muster. He whinnies now when he sees me, and calls to me after I must head inside. He stands at the gate, staring at the back door, nickering, making me feel G-U-I-L-T-Y for not being able to bring him inside. Surprisingly enough, Wrecking Crew took the change the hardest, with tears and asking daily about Rock Star.

Well, where one door closes, another always opens, right?

That about does it for updates. Time for me to go stick my right hand in the air again, and to try really hard NOT to bump it like I did last night.....

Happy Hoofin with intact body parts to y'all!
~MM

Ouch

Read slow- typing with only one hand- takes FOREVER.

Buggered up right hand the other night. Lesson learned: I am not smarter than the object I was working with at 10PM.

End result:

Well, picture is worth 1000 words, right?
The whole finger is swollen like crazy. Inside the blue is a lovely bruise. I've seen bruises all over the rest of my bod through the years but never on the underside of my knuckle....

Non- Equine Related--- Settle A Debate!!

Dear Husband and I have had this on going debate for YEARS now.

What is YOUR outlook?

Are they SNEAKERS -- or -- TENNIS SHOES?

Responsibility.....

We talk a lot on here about responsibility and it's various forms. Most of the time, we seem to wind up talking about horse owners, and their responsibilities to provide a safe working environment, a safe animal to work on, and pay when the job is done.

But what about the hoof care provider? What are OUR responsibilities?

- The biggest one- Education Education Education Education. Do Not Stop Learning, so that the highest standard of care can be provided. (Hmm.. that sounds similar to a horse owners responsibility too.)

- We need to be on time, but.. unfortunately there are times when we do run late. Most of the time, that can be attributed to an owner prior to your appointment who is NOT a responsible sort, and we run late as a result. Other times, we do indeed have mechanical failures, medical emergencies (ie: Horse kicked hoof care provider in the ribs, causing extreme pain and an inability to breathe properly,) equine medical emergencies, and the like.

- We need to follow this seemingly simple precept: Do No Harm (to the HORSE. Owners are on their own if they get stupid and allow harm to befall the hoof care provider.)
Well, it sounds simple anyways...

- Return phone calls, or emails, promptly. Communication breakdowns are all too common through out the rest of the world, and it does happen with your HCP's too. (Although if you are one of those owners who says/ does any of the following: mail the check... 4 weeks after the job is done, bounce the check, have horses who are total pains in the rump and you do NOTHING to correct/ improve the behavior, continuously cancel appointments, or feel the need to "instruct" your HCP in his job the entire time, and more- don't expect us to pick up the phone when you call, return your message, or answer your email. You probably have been FIRED as a client.)

But what about teaching? Is that our responsibility?

No. It is not.

I used to teach. I used to spend a lot of time answering questions, and arguing with people like the Horse Guru mentioned in my previous post. Then it dawned on me- I don't have time to spend doing this. That extra time spent trying to teach someone who really could not care was taking away from clients who DID care, and who DID make sure their horses behaved, their work areas were clean, and who paid on time, usually in cash, when the job was done.

I also used to spend a lot- LOT- of time working with the horses- Free of charge- to try and improve their behavior overall, so that I'd be safer while trimming them. That changed when a "Trainer" decided that it was MY job to teach HER horses to stand still. For too long, MY job was to teach her horses to stand POLITELY for their trim, plus trim them, and not DARE to charge her for my efforts- aside from the trimming that is.

Yeah, it took me too long to sort out the following:
1) The horses were not improving because there was no follow up done on their teaching
2) The horses overall hoof health was not where it needed to be, because the "trainer" could not in fact get the horses to allow her to do follow up treatments. Instead of correcting unwanted behaviors, she "rewarded" them by allowing the bad stuff to persist, making it worse for me the next time around.

I hated going out there. Hated it.

And the day she loftily informed me that it was indeed MY job to teach the horses- all horses- to stand and not charge for it, I set my tools down and told her flat out- piss off. YOU are supposed to be some hot shot trainer, YOU do it. After all, YOU are the one getting paid to T-R-A-I-N these horses...

I packed up and left. Got a nasty email from her, which I deleted.

People seem to think that being in business for ourselves, that we have all the time in the world to spend with them and their horses. People seem to think that just because we are "Homo Quasi Erectus" that we don't have enough intelligence, and there fore we do not deserve common courtesy reserved for someone such as a vet- who after all DID go to school for eight years for their degree (yes, that IS sarcasm). People seem to think that it will not matter if they have someone else trim their horse "just this one time" for what ever reason. People seem to think... wait a moment. That's it. That is the problem right there.

People Don't Think.

That answers pretty much everything in a nutshell.

Now, Jackie- I DO teach. I just don't do it on barn calls. I send them here, with specific links. I actually enjoy teaching- to some degree. Breathe, if you show up drinking the koolaid of some damn Guru, you won't get the time of day from me. Yep, you might well be teachable, but until you loose the loud mouth know it all, you won't get a word out of me. All your Guru will wish to do 99% of the time is to argue, and point out why the rest of the world is WRONG, and they are RIGHT. Sorry, but I no longer have the time OR the patience to deal with that kind of non-sense. MY time is demanded- yes, DEMANDED- elsewhere.

I have been known to invite people to my home (which screws up my Golden Hermit Status for like a year), and use my horse for a mini clinic and demo on what it is we are doing and why. I won't even charge for that- usually you just have to bring a pizza or some such to share around. But that is on MY time, not on a barn call. This blog is done in my spare time, in an effort to answer questions and teach people who are willing to learn about their horses hooves. I'll examine pictures, send multiple emails, and even do scheduled phone calls. All free of charge, in an effort to help people learn. (There is one man- whom I respect quite a bit- who charges $250 and up for a 30 minute consultation.)

If this post sounds, well, grumpy, it should. I *am* grumpy. I *am* irritated. I am tired- tired of people just ASS-U-Me-ing that it is MY JOB to do THEIR job, or to spend an inordinate amount of time teaching them everything I have spent my hard earned money, blood, sweat, and tears learning. If this offends you, well, so be it. I can't say I am sorry about it right at this moment. If you want to learn, fine. I'll help. But it will be on my time, not on a barn call.

Fire away- somehow I get the feeling this post will piss a few folks off.....

Sonny Says...

That I did not get to HIS jobs yesterday Fast Enough.

I had to get hay yesterday, and as I pulled into the drive here at Command Central, I was met with a large dancing red horse, eagerly calling to me. OK- so maybe he wasn't calling to ME per say, but to the hay on the back of the truck. He stood in the corner, watching intently the whole time I backed into position to off load. As the driver's side door opened, I was met with a loud whinny from him. The silly horse was dancing in place, tossing his head, nickering the entire time the off load was in progress.

Since he still had a good bit of hay left from his early morning feeding, I decided to not give him any of the new stuff.

Do you know, all day long, he stood by that corner, tossing his head, staring at the hay? It sure seemed like he was trying to learn levitation skills, to lift that big bale into his paddock. I went back to refill his water tanks in the late afternoon, and still he stood, staring at the hay. He'd look at me, then at the hay, then back at me... His hopes were dashed when I haltered him and brought him out for a cool bath, and not to eat the new hay. He loved his bath, but had to stand so that he could watch the hay- The Entire Time. An hour of rinsing and scraping, and he stared at the hay- The Entire Time.

Dear Husband came home around 7:30. Sonny met HIM with a yell too, in an attempt to get his Daddy to give him some of that fresh bale. Nothing doing- Dear Husband said it was up to Mommy, so Sonny had to convince me.

Poor Sonny was forced to eat the "old" hay overnight. I went out bright and early this morning, to find the "old" hay- which was beautiful hay in it's own right- gone and Sonny back to standing in the corner, once again attempting to levitate that new bale to him.

He was overjoyed when I opened the fresh bale for him this morning, and nickered and danced continually as breakfast was served.

Since then, he has stood, resting one hind leg, chewing happily, eyes half closed in bliss, on his heaping portion of new hay.

Crazy rotten horse.

Life sure would be lousy around here with out that big red monster!

Homo Quasi Erectus... Better Known As A Farrier

This post has been brought to you by Dear Husband. After reading my post of the other day, the resulting comments, and the ensuing conversations between us when we were NOT "Quasi Erect", but seated here in the air conditioning, he put his thoughts on the matter into words. I have some other thoughts to share, but my Dear Husband summed this up absolutely perfectly with his words for today. Enjoy, ask questions, but above all, take a moment to really think about what he has to share with you here.

With out further ado, I present to you:

Homo Quasi Erectus…Better Known As A Farrier

This is the little known and even more mis-understood creature that evolution forgot. They have tendencies from both homo sapiens and homo erectus. They have advanced brain pans but walk stooped over and grunt often like their cave man ancestors. They speak a strange, almost foreign language that very few modern people understand.

For reasons not totally understood by modern science these individuals feel the need to crawl under extremely large and dangerous animals. They contort themselves into unheard of positions and hold this position while performing various tasks that require the manual dexterity of a modern surgeon. They also require the strength of a small tank because unlike a surgeon, whose patient is NOT sitting on them, the farrier must perform these tasks with about 400 pounds of unsteady horse sitting on them.


They often perform these tasks in environments which normal people refuse to even enter. They work in heat and cold. They work with flies biting them and their patient. There are often by bystanders who often like to drop words of wisdom and advice from the sidelines. These bystanders, often referred to as horse owners or “boarders”, have never been under said horse, have no idea what the farrier is trying to accomplish, but still feel qualified to tell the farrier his job.
Understand that while Homo Quasi Erectus does smell bad, often is grumpy and crude, and tends to be a bit short with other people, he is (in most cases) quite intelligent and has spent an inordinate amount of time, effort and money to become what he is. That includes working for free as an apprentice (for 2 years in my case), then paying to learn the medical side. In my case it was an 8 year initial struggle with dues paid in both blood and money. Very long hours with very little pay to learn one of the “arts of science”. Yes it is very scientific in its base but the actual performing it is an art form of the highest degree.

Now imagine this individual is treated with very little respect and even less understanding of what it took to attain his status. His “clients” forget appointments or cancel them. Maybe they forget the checkbook and he doesn’t get paid for several weeks. Maybe the owner decides someone with NO education or experience is the choice THIS TIME because Homo Quasi Erectus charges $10 more and that is just too much.


How should this farrier creature react when said client calls back and screams “HELP!! The last guy lamed my horse and I need YOU to fix it”? Should he gallantly ride in (having to push back a loyal client who kept their appointments and paid on time) and “fix” the horse for the same price simply because the owner wants it? Should he charge more and set a time that works for him instead of the owner? Should he tell them to pound sand and find someone else to do it because he knows the client will do it again later on down the road? Such is the life of the farrier. A life of difficult choices. It’s a life of hard, sometimes brutally painful work. A lifetime of learning and re-learning because research reveals new information almost every month. A life dedicated to something other than the pursuit of money while trying to earn enough to stay alive.

The effort farriers spend to learn and apply their knowledge to help horses that are lame, and keep the sound ones sound SHOULD be appreciated and rewarded. They should be extended some simple courtesies. Things like keeping a schedule, making sure the horses are caught and clean. That a clean dry area is available. That fly spray is available to protect the horse and farrier. That the work is paid for when it is done. People who wouldn’t dare wait a minute for their time and effort seem to have no problem making a farrier wait weeks before mailing in their payment.

Last but CERTAINLY not least is the question and answer period. Yes you should ask questions and check references before you hire a farrier. Check them out and then talk to the farrier himself. If you have simple questions or suggestions then make them BEFORE the farrier gets there. When we see a new client horse will ask questions and LOOK at the horse over all. BUT when we are under a new horse we cannot give you the time and answers we want because we are too busy. We are busy keeping ourselves safe (no idea what to expect from a new horse), trying to see what is going on with the hoof, and keep track of tools and time. Once we are done we can give you a QUICK over all of what happened and was done. We have to work quickly and efficiently to make enough money to stay in this business. If you want lengthy, detailed explanations of things then by all means ask…but be willing to pay for the time and explanation. We get PAID to do this..why should we sacrifice our time to give you information for free? After all you wouldn’t dream of asking a doctor to sit there and explain things for free would you?

"You Are Doing That Totally Wrong!"

Ahhh those are words that make my day (please note the sarcasm here). They generally issue forth from a self-proclaimed Horse Guru, who loudly gives (bad) advice on every equine related subject, to everyone, all the time. Or better yet is the fairly new owner, who is sucked into the Horse Guru's schpiel, and they take every word that spews forth as The Gospel.

I hate working around a Horse Guru. And their followers bother me as well.

For example:
While working on providing a bit of a rehab trim on a not so healthy horse, with not so healthy hooves, Horse Guru reared it's ugly head with this proclamation:

"Oh My Heavens! You just lamed that horse up! He is now walking almost entirely on his SOLE! You are doing that totally wrong, and you are going to ruin that horse!"

This of course, was proclaimed at the top of Horse Guru's lungs, in front of quite a few people. The owner of the not so healthy horse, with the not so healthy hooves, went white, gasped, and muttered something under her breath. I think it was a sobbing "Oh my poor poor horsie!" or something like that.

Poor poor horsie indeed, but for a variety of other reasons. First he was about 200+ pounds underweight. (Can't blame Horse Guru for that one- Poor Poor Horsie had only been with New Owner for a couple weeks.) His hooves were pretty ragged, with a combination of retained sole, broken wall, pretty severe thrush in his frogs, and not a whole lot to work with to make him an Instant Miracle Cure.

I finished my work on the hoof. Poor Poor Horsie either had some fairly bad manners or he was just too weak/ sore/ upset/ confused/ stressed to be able to stand politely for a trim. I quietly and gently set his hoof down and let him take a break, as I rubbed his neck in an attempt to calm him and encourage a lower head and a deep sigh from him.

As I was trying to comfort Poor Poor Horsie, I had a decision to make. Continue on and finish the trim, or stop what I was doing and confront Horse Guru? Provide one line guidance, and invite Horse Guru to seek out the information? Point out examples of other horses that had already been trimmed that day, and ask if they were lame? Give Horse Guru "THAT Look", and continue working?

I choose the latter. "THAT Look" was enough to quell the noise for a moment, as I finished up the last hoof.

Funny thing is, Poor Poor Horsie walked off to his pasture sounder than when he arrived at the work station. Go figure that one, huh?

So why do Horse Guru's proclamation just completely Make My Day? For several reasons. First being the utter and complete WILLFUL Ignorance on display about the equine hoof, and it's mechanics. Dr. Robert Bowker has a study published, that goes into detail on WHY and HOW the hoof wall and sole work together to be mutually weight bearing. If Horse Guru had bothered to look, she would have seen the following:

- Generous support in the heels, known to us as the Heel Purchase. This heel purchase provides support, traction, and allows for the initial stages of energy dissipation.

- Relieved quarters, to allow for distortion of the hoof upon weight bearing (ie: Movement.) This also allows for proper energy distribution.

- A generous (or at least as much as I could provide for Poor Poor Horsie,) amount of support in the toe IN THE SOLE (in the form of what is known as a toe callous), and support for the hoof wall, with corrected toe length and roll.

- BALANCE. The hooves were balanced, and checked by me a multitude of times. Why the constant checking? As I mentioned earlier, Poor Poor Horsie was not the best subject to work on, and he kept moving his legs and hooves at very crucial times during the work being done. Which means I would get the hoof back in position, and have to recheck the balance to double check the job, and find exactly what needed to be done yet. (Not to mention re-cleaning the hoof, when he pulled away from me and placed it back on the sandy/ muddy ground.)

Instead, Horse Guru chose to spout off, showing their ignorance, (why is it the more ignorant they are, the LOUDER they are?) and put me in a position that I am frankly tired of being in. The position of having to make a choice: Do you argue with Stupidity, showing the scientific evidence, the sound and healthy hooves all around, or do you smile, collect the payment, and walk away all the while scratching that name off your client roster?

That day I chose to smile, collect, and leave.

The sole of the horse is MEANT to be semi-weight bearing. It promotes healthy growth, proper hoof function, and encourages the internal structures to maintain optimum health. The sole and wall actually work together quite well, when people do not interfere and provide improper direction for energy dissipation, hoof growth, and movement. Poor Poor Horsie in this case walked slowly up to me, showing by his movement that his heels were underrun, his toes were much much too long, and his soles were a mess with retained sole and over laid bar material packed into the sole, making tender spots AND creating an area for an abscess to brew in the future. Post trim, he moved easier, and trotted into his pasture SOUND, with solid heel first landings.

I have said it time and time again on here, and in person. And I will continue to say it:

Watch.
Your.
Horses.
MOVE.

Pay attention to how the legs move. Pay attention to how the hooves strike the ground. Watch how the knees and hocks flex and bend. Look at the hips and head as well- watch how they move.

Let your horse tell you things, quietly, before you dive into dealing with a Horse Guru who will cost you, and your horse, in the long run.

And thus ends today's semi-PSA.