I hosed off Scout, checked him out thoroughly, tended to his cuts and scrapes, and all the while he laid his ears flat back. He was trembling a little, but I tried my best to reassure him that I hadn't and wouldn't hurt him. I put him in his stall, fed him and walked back to the arena to get the saddle. Now I was mad! Really mad! I saw what caused the saddle to slip. The off billet, that's the strap on the saddle that holds the cinch (Google it), had completely shredded. It was made out of industrial nylon and the fabric just failed. This was a product defect and either the horse or I could have been really hurt. I threw the saddle in my car's trunk and drove straight to the tack shop. I showed the salesperson the saddle and explained what happened and I told her I wanted all of the straps replaced with good leather. She brought out the manager, who could tell I was angry, and he apologized and asked if I could leave the saddle overnight. They would clean it and replace the straps at no cost. I returned to the store the next day, hoping the manager was true to his word and he was. The saddle had been cleaned, the nylon straps were replaced with leather straps, and he again apologized. He also told me he called the saddle maker and told him of the problem. The saddle maker said he quit using nylon because he had several customers have the same problem. I wish the manager hadn't told me that because I immediately thought the saddle maker should have had a recall. I kept picturing the sign in the barn that said if you or your horse get hurt or die, it's your fault, but in this case it wasn't my fault!
Now to get back to riding. I wanted Scout to trust me so I went out to the barn for five or six more rides, but he never trusted me. Every time we rode he danced and pranced. He wanted me off his back. I could sense the anxiety in him and as hard as I tried, it eventually passed on to me.
I spent a week away from the barn, thinking about everything that had happened. I would dwell on the negatives of losing the first horse to an freak accident, having a replacement that was not my style of horse, and then having a riding accident that wasn't my fault or the horse's. Quitting would have been easy at this point. It hadn't worked out the way I thought it would. Yet, I remembered how great the feeling was when it was going well - when the horse and I were dance partners and we moved fluidly around the arena. There just isn't anything else like it. Trainers ride 10-20 horses a day, every day, for years. Riding is a job for them. Some horses are mean and nasty, some are dull and listless, and others just aren't athletic at all. But every now and again, trainers come across that horse that reminds them why they started riding. They share the same feeling I had; it is a joy unlike all others. There had to be a way to get that back.
Every Saturday afternoon, during the college football season, I would sit in the garage, where I had installed a tv and a space heater. I'd open the garage door and set up some lawn chairs and turn on the Notre Dame football game. My neighbor across the street owned a delicatessen and he'd come over with sandwiches and other neighbors would bring pop and beer. I'd provide cigars and the garage transformed itself into the neighborhood sports bar. This particular Saturday, as I'm telling my horse riding stories to my friends, one of them said to me that I should buy my own horse. The only two things I could think of at this moment was he was absolutely correct and how am I going to break this to my wife! The game ended, I don't remember if Notre Dame won (they probably did because Lou Holtz was the coach then and he always had winning teams), and I cleaned up. Pam popped out to the garage and she said she heard us talking about me buying a horse and she was all for it. Ok, let's go!
I researched horses; I researched trainers. I found a horse; he was a 6 year old gelding on the other side of the state. I was told he had some training and he was safe to ride, the price was right, and we agreed that my wife and I would drive out the next weekend to take a look. In the meantime, I opened a copy of a local horse magazine and I called several trainers. I also called Michigan State University and enrolled in an evening class on Equine Management. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes I had made in the past.
We went out to see the horse and he was pretty, and kind, and he was ridden up to us by a ten year old girl. He was a palomino paint horse with blue eyes. His name was Liberty, and I was hooked. The seller agreed to deliver the horse to any trainer in the state and I told her I'd like a vet check done before I buy him. Over the next week I called a vet, who went out and examined the horse, took some x-rays of his legs, examined him for lameness, checked his feet with hoof testers and pronounced him sound. I settled on a trainer who was in between our house and Lansing, which at the time this was about an hour's drive. This way, I'd be able to check on the horse's progress while the trainer got him ready for me, and then I could go to class. I agreed to give the trainer 90 days, which was about how long the semester lasted. By the end of the semester he should be good to go and I would know much more than I did before the class started.
Everything was going well. The class was a great learning experience. Michigan State has a wonderful equine program. They breed Arabians and Belgians. They have a college equestrian team, a judging team, several nice barns, several arenas, a wonderful veterinarian school and some great instructors. I couldn't wait to go to class every week. The drive didn't matter; I soaked it all in. I would call the trainer to check on Liberty and she would give me updates. Some were more positive than others, but she was hopeful. Finally, the 90 days were up and I began riding. I wanted to see how far along he had gotten.
The trainer tried to temper my enthusiasm and asked that I take a few lessons at a walk and a trot. I reluctantly agreed. She explained he didn't feel quite right at a lope and she wanted to have a vet check him out. Of course, I said yes. She had a vet come out and the vet called me and said I think your horse is sore in his hocks and I'd like to inject them to make him more comfortable. This process is similar to a baseball player getting a cortisone shot to improve the joint mobility in a shoulder. The injection is a often a combination of a steroid and hyaluronic acid. The vet said he'd need a couple days of rest and then he could get back to work.
The trainer called and reported that the shots made him better but not perfect. She wanted to bring out a chiropractor. Yes, there are horse chiropractors. I had learned about them in the evening class, but I had never seen one work on a horse and I was curious. I asked to be present when the chiropractor came out and the trainer set the appointment. The chiropractor examined the horse and said he had lesions along his back and his hips were drooping. He said he could adjust the horse's back and hips, but it would take several sessions. He also suggested acupuncture. Now this was new. I hadn't seen or heard of this, but if it would make my horse more comfortable so I could get to enjoy him, I was game. After six treatments, and a thousand dollars, the chiropractor said the treatments were completed. The horse could get back to light work at a walk and a jog, eventually working up to a lope after two weeks.
The trainer would ride the horse three to four times a week and I would go out on the weekends and ride. He felt a bit more comfortable, but still not quite right, but I was thinking he just needed to get back into shape. At this point I've owned Liberty for almost six months and I've hardly gotten to ride. One day the phone in my office at work rang and the trainer was on the line. She never called my office so I knew something was wrong. She told me that Liberty had begun tripping as she would walk him down the aisle. I asked her to provide more details and she said he would start walking and he would fall to his knees. After a second, he would get up and walk on. Then he would trip again. She said she had called the vet out and I said I'd drive out to meet them. About an hour and a half later we all met at the barn and the vet couldn't find anything immediately wrong, but she suspected several awful sounding diseases. She suggested that we haul the horse to the Michigan State Large Animal Clinic the next day for a thorough exam and tests.
I took the day off work, met the trainer at the barn in the morning, and she hauled Liberty to the clinic. I drove my car, thinking I'd be able to get to work in the afternoon. The clinic is like a hospital for horses, with an operating room, diagnostic equipment, and everything that you'd expect a horse hospital to have. We checked him in and after a short while a veterinarian came by to examine our horse. The vet listened to us explain the symptoms and he asked us to take Liberty to see a vet that was visiting from Europe. He was in the building next door, and that building had an arena where Liberty could be lunged so the vet could see him move. We led the horse to the next building and walked in to meet the vet. He was very pleasant and explained that he owned horses and he competes in dressage. I always like to work with vets that own horses; I don't know if it helps but I feel a connection that I find comforting. He had his assistant put the horse on a lunge line and had her lunge Liberty. After no more than three minutes of lunging, Liberty looked like he had regressed to where he was constantly on the wrong lead and often had the front legs on one lead and the back on the other. The vet said I'd like to examine him a little more and he put him in cross ties. He felt the horses legs, back and neck. He turned the horse's head from side to side and up and down. Then he brought out a small tool that looked like the thing your doctor has to check the reflexes in your knees. He tapped Liberty's sides and noticed a different response at different points. Then he stopped and turned to me and asked if my horse had ever broken his neck. I was stunned. He had never broken his neck, that I knew. I said I had a vet check done when I purchased him and there was no evidence of abuse or neglect, and my trainer said he had never been injured while he was in her care. The vet said I think your horse has a neurological problem, it could be a small problem or a big problem, but the only way to know was to x-ray his neck.
My stomach was sick. I couldn't stop petting the horse. The vet had to ask me to step back or he'd have to put a lead vest on me so he could take the x-ray. I made him give me a vest because I wasn't leaving my horse. The x-ray revealed the problem. The third vertebrae was almost twice as large as the other vertebras. Liberty had wobbler syndrome. The vet explained that he was partially paralyzed and in a lot of pain because the joint was pressing on his spinal chord. He calmly and kindly explained that there was no treatment for this syndrome, at the stage that Liberty had, and his prognosis was bleak. The vet said he would eventually become unable to stand or walk. The vet asked to have another vet run an electronic test, similar to, but not exactly like, an electrocardiogram. They wouldn't check the heart, but they would check his nerves for normal activity. This would confirm the diagnosis. I nodded my approval. Within ten minutes there were ten veterinary students and another vet in the room. They were attaching small aluminum foil looking attachments to the horse's side and hooked them by wires to an electronic machine with a screen. On Liberty's right side, there was a normal sine wave pattern. The second vet said that it was a good sign, but they needed to check the other side. Repeating the procedure on the other side, there was no sine wave. Instead, there were random light pulses that reminded me of a bad tv signal. The vet said this meant his nerves weren't able to read the signals from his brain because of the pressure and likely damage to the spinal chord. The diagnosis was confirmed and both vets explained that the disease was common in several breeds, including Paint Horses. They said there were some surgeries that could be done to fuse the joints but in Liberty's case the damage to the spinal chord was too severe, he would never be "cured," and he would always be in pain. They said the humane thing to do was to put the horse down. In a state of shock, I signed some papers, donating his body to the school for research. After many condolences from the vets and the students, they left the trainer and I alone with Liberty. I did not want to talk, and she didn't know what to say, so I thanked her for everything and I said she could go. I'd be alright.
How could this happen? Did I do something wrong? Did I let the horse down? I hugged him and walked him down the aisle where an attendant was waiting. I remember her asking me if I wanted his halter, and I said no. As she walked him away I turned around to compose myself and all I saw was an empty stall.
Horses are a companion animal. You become attached to them and they become attached to you. They know their surroundings and they learn the routine of their everyday life with you. When tragedy strikes, as it had for the second time for me, you have doubts about whether to go on with this pursuit. In many cases, people and horses can be partners together for many years without any incidents. There are no serious injuries or illnesses, there are unexpected phone calls, there are no disappointments. What if that's not the case for you? What if your horse gets hurt? What if your horse becomes ill? Are you prepared for the heartache, the feeling that you've let your companion down. Are you prepared for the expense of treating an ill or injured horse? You can buy insurance for some medical emergencies but usually not all. Do you know what to look for so you can see that your horse is having a problem? Can you see the horse's gait is not quite right? Can you see the horse laying down more than normal or rolling more than normal? Do you notice if he's eating less or drinking less water than normal? Can you take his pulse and his temperature? Do you know how to give him a shot? Is your trailer ready at all times to rush the horse to the equine hospital? This isn't the pleasant side of horse ownership, however, it is likely that if you own horses for a long enough period of time you will have to have answers to these questions. Your horse relies on you. Yes they weigh over 1,000 pounds and they can survive in the wild but your horse doesn't live in the wild. Your horse relies on you for his care and feeding. Your horse needs you to be a horseman or horsewoman. If you find out that you don't want to deal with these challenges then find something else. Buy a boat, golf, garden, swim, anything that doesn't require you to have another living being dependent upon your ability to be it's caretaker. If, however, the desire to share your time with a horse won't leave you, then you will face these challenges as calmly and resolutely as you can. You will be there for your horse, no matter how difficult the circumstance. If you feel this way, then you are on your way to being a horseman or horsewoman.
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