Killing Time While Broken

I don't take being grounded well.  I mope.  I pout.  I whine.  I generally make myself a nuisance to those poor souls who for some unknown reason consent to befriend me.  I am sure they breathe a sigh of relief when I drag myself home to flop about the house and complain to the cats, who stare vacantly at me, wondering when I am going to shut up and scoop more food.  Even the lizard can't seem to summon up a modicum of sympathy, cold-hearted wretch that he is.

But it's not all melodramatics and depressed sighs; there are still tasks to attend to. Every day, Solo gets a deep muscle massage accompanied by SoreNoMore. I can see the rippling spasms travel along the muscle fibers as I compress them with the heel of my hand against his vertebrae. He cocks a hind foot and twitches his lip -- apparently digging into those painful knots feels just as good on his back as it does on mine.

Yesterday, I put him on the longe line and set the vienna reins on the lowest rings of the surcingle to encourage a low, round, stretchy outline. He went really well and it lifted my spirits to watch his muscles work under the rice-bran-shine of chestnut coat. Keeping him fit is my biggest challenge right now; lifeshighway has ponied him out again this morning -- I have not seen any ambulances fly by the house, so I must assume it was uneventful.

There are even spots of fun! Friday evening, I taught lifeshighway and the irrepressible Pete how to do gymnastic ground poles. Now, Pete's attitude towards poles and anything resembling jumping is that it is a complete waste of energy and surely there is a perfectly good path to go around every obstacle. However, he needs to build his haunches and topline and stretch out his legs for racing, so I gleefully planned a few grids for him.

Pete has impeccable balance and is a quick learner so once he was informed that he DID have to continue moving forward, even if there was more than one pole, he picked up his feet and agreed to comply. We finished with him bouncing cleanly through four canter poles set on 10' centers -- not bad for a short little guy! I couldn't keep the grin off my face watching lifeshighway find the rhythm and discover the fun of gymnastics!

Carolina summer is in full swing and the heat blazes down, although we are supposed to see a break this week. If my body and Solo's will cooperate, maybe I will get lucky and be able to sit on him. Meanwhile, I fantasy shop for prospects that I cannot afford to board and wait impatiently for the cash fairy to make an appearance already!

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Dr. Bob's Magic Fingers

They always find something.

Going in, I knew Solo was struggling with some jumps and in a test ride last night, refusing to lift his back up and engage. In the past, back soreness has pointed to hind leg joint issues. I was expecting stifles, hocks, and needles to be involved in our visit.

To my vast and utter surprise, Solo flexed 100% clean and sound on both hind legs. I have always maintained that this horse would probably never pass a flex test, although I have never done one on him. Given that I know he has some mild hock arthritis and I know he's lopsided, I figured there'd always be a little something there. So my jaw pretty much dropped when he jogged off perfectly every time behind lifeshighway, who was working Amazing Friend duty, jogging my horse in 90 degree heat since I was lame.

Dr. Bob poked and prodded and then sent Solo and I into the round pen to demonstrate our free lunging skills. Which was fine till he wanted to see the canter. I eventually had to give up and redneck it bareback and barefoot with the halter to get the shiny beast to canter those tiny circles.

Good news: joints are fine. Clean, even, and moving well in all gaits. Dr. Bob was wowed by Solo's muscle condition and suspension when he moved. I basked a little.

Less than good, but not as bad as expected news: the problem appears to be deep muscle pulls in the large muscles of his back and hips. Likely cause, the too-short stadium warmup in VA. Muscle cells damaged in a pull turn into scar tissue, which must gradually be broken down and worked out.  If I want, we can go down to the vet school and play with MRI's, thermography, and all their goodies.  I snorted -- as if I have any money left at this point! -- and said, would it change our course of action?  Response:  probably not.  Ok then.

Rx: Start slow, with lots of stretching, bute, and light, stretchy works under saddle. After every ride, deep massage sore muscles with liniment or witch hazel/vinegar/water combo. Slowly incorporate long, stretchy trot, ground poles, then tiny cross rails and build back up from there.

I can't jump right now anyway till the knee is fixed, so we can take our time. Which is why I took him in when I did anyway -- all competition pressure is removed and all I HAVE to do at this point is keep him in condition.

So with some time and a lot of help from dear friends who I couldn't live without, the prognosis is good for a healed Solo!

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I'm Going To Buy One Of Those Cool Magneto Helmets

Only if it comes with a cape. I guess if you are not as big a dork as me, you won't get that reference though. But I DO get another trip to the MRI though. Wheee, giant magnet fun. Yup, the knee has earned me another pass on that ridiculously expensive thrill ride. *sigh*

In the mean time, Solo and I will go visit Dr. Bob tomorrow and see if we can winnow out a reason for his reluctance to jump sweet jumps.  The shiny beast is still out on the trail, we have to stay in shape, after all.

I fantasize about what it would be like if life went back to normal. 

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Ah, The Stories

Who, me??

What stories to tell?

How about when Solo decided to exit his stall, sans halter, sans me, Friday night & trot briskly out of the barn, across the parking lot, bent on adventure until someone saw him in their rearview mirror & leaped out of their truck to head him off?  He loves to embarrass me.

How about when I slammed my fingers in the stall door because I wasn't paying attention?  Eh, those are the boring stories...  ;-P

The Rundown

Sexy beast

The dressage went well.  Three days off prior to a competition appears to be the golden ticket.  Solo came out of the stall fresh & ready to roll.  Ok, a little TOO fresh, hence his extended trot, oh wait, that was a canter.  Oops.

But he stayed soft through all the canter work & I was pleased.  I thought our 38 was a very fair score & if we stop blowing through a downward transition or two & actually DO the extended trot (which he CAN do nicely!) then I see good things in the future.

The cross country course felt really big the first time I walked it.  Although David informed me yesterday that it was actually a bit small for Training.  Ha.  But after I walked it a second time, I felt good about it.  Ready.

5...4...3...2...1...

My hands shook as I buckled on Solo's jumping bridle, but R gave us our important last minute reminder tips & off we went.  Warmup was GREAT & Solo cleared the biggest oxer I think we have ever jumped in beautiful style.  We came out of the startbox gangbusters & tackled it.

Solo was a bit backed off by the jump size but he gamely leaped his way through the BIG rolltops, coops, & logs.  He navigated the huge steeplechase jumps with ease & after we cleared the stiff combination at 12, I thought we were golden.

But it was hotttt & as we galloped up the hill to 16, I realized I wasn't hydrated enough & my legs suddenly were non-responsive.

Brain: "Squeeze, legs, squeeze!"
Legs: "Zzzzzzzzzz..."
Brain: "LEGS! WE NEED YOU TO OPERATE! COME IN, LEGS!"
Legs: "Lalalala, not listening...."

Uh Oh

So when Solo stopped at 16, I knew we had a fitness issue.  He was a bit tired & needed more leg support & I didn't have that to give.  Dammit.  Bad, bad me.  I heard Brian O'Connor's voice announcing our refusal & my heart sank.

We cleared the gate on try two & hit the water.  But water is a BIG impulsion sucker & I knew the flag table at 17 would get the hairy eyeball.  I tried to squeeze with everything I had but there were only about two or three strides after the water to get it & it didn't happen.

Finish It

We gave the table a second go through the water & it didn't happen then either.  Oh god, I'm tired, maybe, I should just retire, I thought.  No f@cking way, I snapped back, we don't get to come back & school this, we are DOING it.  So the third time I approached the flag, I hugged the dry edge of the water & curved at the last minute to the jump -- & he cleared it!

Two jumps left -- a big open ditch & a smaller table.  I ran downhill towards the ditch, making sure Solo had no option but to DO it. He did it HUGE & I popped up & landed with one stirrup.

NAUGHTY tired me is tipping forward.  BAD BAD BAD!

Yes, that crazy landing again.

I am braced on his neck, pushing myself back into the saddle.  One more jump, one more jump...

Get that stirrup back & ride on girl! 

We finished it!  Check out the helmet cam!

We have some conditioning to do!  I used Jimmy Wofford's conditioning sets & had Solo at his Training sets, but that was not enough for the big hills of Virginia. Perhaps Mr. Shiny Chunks needs to be doing Prelim sets...

And Then There Was Stadium

On the outside of my packet, my stadium time was 11:52 on Sunday.  Always trust your packet, right?  I pulled into the barn about 8:30 to feed Solo. R was sitting there in his t-shirt.

Hey, man, weren't you supposed to show jump at 8:20?

"They changed my division times," he says. "I don't go till 10:30. But you might be really nervous right now."

Huh? Why?

"Check the time sheets."

I flip madly through the ten page list of competitors.  OMG, they changed my ride time to 9:06.  WTF?  I must have looked at that page six times yesterday, but had not noticed.  One is generally on information overload at these things.

I now have 20 minutes to get Solo from stall to ingate.   He doesn't even get to finish his breakfast before the bridle goes on & we have to trot to the warm up.   The warmup ring is EMPTY.   Everyone else was caught out by this too.

I am not happy; if the packet stuffers had time to stuff the updated time list in there, they had time to sharpie on the outside of the packet that times were changed.  Most eventers I know ALWAYS go by the times listed on the outside of the packet.  Not.  Cool.

R helps us warm up & Solo jumps ok, but he's not completely up in front of my leg.  I can feel him going hey, I'm still chewing my breakfast, wtf is happening here?

I should have retired then.

But I wanted to give it a go so we walked through the chute & into the coliseum.  We cantered in as Brian O. announced our score from yesterday sitting at a whopping 140-something, which I had to laugh at.  We jumped the first jump, but it wasn't beautiful.

The second jump had been riding very poorly all weekend; pulled rails, crashes, it was nasty & horses didn't like it.  I gave Solo the widest turn I could through the rollback to the short side so he had as much time as possible to see the thing (you only got about three strides to approach).

Twenty minutes is not enough for my horse after standing in a stall all night.   He hadn't enough time to stretch out his legs & back.  And he said, I'm sorry, mom, I just can't do this.  And he stopped & backed & turned.

Last mounted moment as Solo backs out from under me

Eventer Down

It wasn't a hard fall, I just slid sideways over his shoulder.  I don't remember exactly how I hit, I only know I ended up on my knees, holding one rein.  I let go & stood up.  Poor Solo's eyes were bugged out of his head, but he stood & waited for me & we walked out.

Our upper-level friend said I rode it right, Solo just wasn't there.  It was really an unfair situation for him & I don't hold the stop against him at all.

At the time, I felt fine.  Once the adrenaline wore off, the leg ached a bit, but it was the four hours in the truck home that told the real story.  When we got back to the farm, the pain was very real.  But I hobbled around & got Solo set free in his pasture & went home to mull it all over.

I must have landed on the knee & twisted the leg wrong at some point.  The orthopedist reckons it's either a bone bruise, a meniscus tear or both.  But with luck, a couple weeks will heal it.  So keep your fingers crossed that I can have a wee bit of luck this year!  (Edited to add much later: I didn't.  It wasn't.)

Am I disappointed?  Of course.  I thought we might have some time XC but I had hoped & believed we could get around clear.  I remain proud of Solo's efforts & proud of our dressage & XC completion.  We have a development plan for summer & maybe we'll try to move up again this fall.

Until then...anyone know how to get fitter without running or biking (body won't allow)? Preferably while lying down?

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I'll Take A Day That's Halfway Good

The rumbly truck is home!  With a new tie rod end and freshly packed wheel bearings, it is ready to resume Solo-hauling duty with renewed vigor.

I'll take that!

Solo is done with his Panacur PowerPac and we both say "Hurrah!" to no more smelly, gooey, white slime.

I'll take that!

In the bright afternoon sun, we had a pretty decent dressage school. Solo is getting a more powerful push back into his transitions into trot. I once again used the transitions within the trot I tried a few days ago to prep for canter, and it worked again! Softer, rounder canter transitions that resulted in a slow, strong, rhythmic stride.

I'll take that!

Ok, so I have to shove an icepack down my pants every few hours to try to bring down the inflammation in my SI joint that is torturing me these days. But even that's not all bad -- with the help of chiro and PT, we are FINALLY narrowing in on the problems and making some headway. PT taped up the right side of my back and leg down to my knee yesterday with the magic of kinesiotape and it's working and hell,

I'll even take that!

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Momma Ain't Happy

Why? Oh, because the universe is unkind! Like I don't already have enough to juggle. 


This is why -->

What the hell is that?  That, my dear friends, in the right forelimb of my beloved pony hauler.  And it has suffered a fracture.

On the way home from work on Friday, it all of a sudden had an epileptic seizure and tried to buck me off.  Long story short, I was down the street about 0.2 miles from the house so I just limped it home slowly and friend and I had a look at it this afternoon.  After cranking the steering wheel around and hearing a loud POP, this is what we found.

In case you are still staring at the picture in puzzlement, trying to figure out what is so wrong -- see the bit on the left side that looks like a black toilet plunger?  That bit is supposed to be attached to the end of the horizontal rod across the middle of the picture.  Not be separated from said rod by a two inch gap.

This is a rather consequential bit as this rod is what connects your steering wheel to your front tire.  Yeah, so you can turn and stuff.  When it's not connected, you get the sorry sight I was faced with this afternoon, which is your truck sitting there with its front tires pointed in opposite directions, like some poor crosseyed kid.   And you definitely do not want to drive it in this condition -- at best, you end up with a bent axle, at worst, your wheel gets ripped off your vehicle.

What most likely happened is that as I turned onto my street, the connector on the tie rod cracked, resulting in the violent "death wobble" (oh yes, that's a real term, google it) I felt.  As we cranked the steering to its maximum extent this afternoon, it snapped completely off.

On the plus side, it's a pretty easy fix and it's under warranty. The truck is ten years old, so it's a normal wear and tear type of thing. This, of course, does not stop me from staring at it mournfully where it sits in front of my house, waiting for Monday morning and a wrecker to arrive.

Moral of the story: if you are driving along and all of a sudden it feels like a wheel fell off, don't keep driving. Even if the wheels are still attached for the moment, A WHEEL MAY BE ABOUT TO BE TORN OFF, so don't push it.

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A Day Of Red -- For Two Reasons

Happy Valentine's Day!  (Or #%@#&! Valentine's Day, as the case may be)

Red Number One: Love. Love for the horses (of course!). But I also have to pay tribute to the love of my very special SO. He made all of this possible five years ago when he bought me a shiny orange ball of heart with its own swishing tail. Forever generous and forever supportive of my singular and consuming dream, I couldn't do it without him. Work keeps him far away for now, a situation that many in this country have to deal with these days, but miles are no barrier for something so unique and so deeply wonderful. Thank you, darlin', for all you do and for giving me a much-needed weekend of relaxing and recharging, I love you more than anything (well, ok, except Solo, wink wink).

Who are you filled with love for today? Is there a very special someone whose picture you stare dreamily at on your desk? Hint: four-legged someones ABSOLUTELY count!!!

Red Number Two: Blood. Solo's blood to be precise. I had a chat with Dr. Bob on Friday, just before I hopped a plane to St. Louis for Red Number One, as the blood panel results were in. Solo's red blood count has dropped again and he showed an elevation in white count as well. Both of these can most likely be attributed to the parasite load. The decreased RBC levels, Dr. Bob feels, are also a likely factor in the gum inflammation. It is very lucky we gave him a steroid shot when we did, about two weeks ago, or he would be in far worse shape then he is now.  He may also have some gut ulceration from the worms, but we just have to wait and see how he feels on that one.

In two weeks, then, we'll give him another steroid shot to build the blood back up (good thing I kept him on his vitamin supplement!). Dr. Bob also recommends a Panacur PowerPac in six weeks to make sure everything is cleaned out. I will start riding again tonight, keeping it low key for a bit and feel things out.

In the back of my head, I can't help but think of the looming spring season. But I have to pull the curtain on that particular window, so as not to lose focus on today. If we make it, we make it, but I CANNOT let that drive what we are doing in the here and now.

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Dr. Bob To The Rescue, Chapter 37

Yes, we went to visit our good friend again today as Solo showed no improvement when asked to engage his hind end after a week and a half of taking it easy following his chiropractic adjustment. My instincts screamed at me that there was something else holding him back.

I gave Dr. Bob my observations of the week: locked left jaw with heavy leaning, inability to lift the back or engage the hind end, inability to balance on the rear quarters, strong resistance to bending to the left, muscle twitching on the right side of the body when stretched. From a horse, who though sometimes opinionated, does NOT have belligerent in his character. There was much poking, prodding, and Solo giving me pathetic faces of dismay.

Dr. Bob is nothing if not thorough; he always starts at the nose and works back. And he immediately discovers Solo has gingivitis! His gums are inflamed around some of his teeth and bleed when rubbed. I insist that he has not been eating gummy bears and neither will I take up flossing his teeth for him. Also, he has had no problems eating hay or grain and dives readily into both.

His neck and back have held their alignment well but it is quickly apparent as Dr. Bob runs practiced fingers over his midback and hindquarters that there is a great deal of soreness there. Then he palpates Solo's belly midline and my horse twitches and kicks a hindleg at his stomach (which I have noticed has become rather potbellied of late). To finish, we draw blood for a panel and grab a nice fresh turd for a fecal.

Today's verdict: my instincts are not wrong.  There are four big ligaments that attach the pelvis to the spine (see the turquoise spot on top of the horse's butt at left).  These are very very sore, so they each get injected with a muscle relaxer.  Solo does not particularly enjoy this process.

The belly can have several explanations. (1) Sand in the gut (although it's a bit far forward for that apparently). (2) Ulcer. (3) Something else. However, after checking on the fecal, we discover that poor Solo is *choke* full of worms. WTF????? Valley Vet, I have been paying for your yearly wormer premium pack and following the directions and now my horse is a wormball??? Me not happy. At all.  Guess that potbelly is not a hay belly. 

There are a variety of reasons a pasture can become loaded with worms and that a horse can subsequently adopt said worms. Our pastures are Bermuda grass, kept mowed short for weed and tick control (ticks are HORRID here) and dragged once or twice a week. Of course, the shorter your grass is, the more densely packed the worms are on the blade. And the more you drag when the weather is warm, the more worms are spread around. But if you don't drag, you have poop hell and the flies dance a dance of joy, unless you follow your horse around with a pitchfork and a bucket. And the longer you let your grass grow, the more ticks and weeds you get. Seems to me we have a near-impossible situation, but BO is in charge of pasture management, so that is something beyond my control. And obviously what we do works at least some of the time -- of four horses who got a fecal last fall, all were clean except one who just had a few scattered worms (he is an old guy).

So. Solo gets the weekend off anyway, as I will be gone. I jammed a tube of moxidectin in his mouth when I brought him back to the farm, horrified that my horse is parasite-ridden despite my attempts at perfect wormer application.. Starting next week, I will start rehab work (volume II) and see if we get some more improvement this time. I'll have blood results tomorrow, so that may give me some more information as well. I suspect the gum issues may be related to the parasite load, but that I am not sure of yet.

We also got a new (improved!) worming schedule. *drumroll* For agressive parasite control, worm every six weeks with:

Winter: (1) Panacur/Safeguard (fenbendazole)
            (2) Quest/Quest Plus (moxidectin; Quest Plus
                 [moxidectin/praziquantel blend] is currently not
                 available but company swears they will start
                 making it again soon)

Spring: (1) Zimectrin Gold/Equimax
                 (see generic ivermectrin warning here)
            (2) Quest/Quest Plus

Summer:  (1) Panacur/Safeguard
                (2) Guess what?  Quest/Quest Plus

Fall:  (1) Strongid (pyrantel pamoate)
        (2) You know it, Quest/Quest Plus

In addition, make sure you worm for tapeworms at least 2x per year (praziquantel does this).

If Solo is still showing signs of issues after we clean this mess up, then we will try feeding psyllium for a week and/or treating for ulcers.  I am hoping that will not be an issue...  I will never know what he did to himself.  Most likely, he slipped in the pasture and just slammed his hips playing.  But what I beg/plead/gasp/hope/want now is for him to get better!!

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One Day At A Time, One Day At A Time

I am having to make this my mantra. Because if I go any further ahead of myself than one day, I start flipping myself out and have to refer myself back to the previous post.

Yesterday was a bright 56 degrees and the sun warmed everyone's cold and grumpy spirits. I got to give Solo a bath to work out the ground-in winter dirt that brushes just seem to move around. There are even patches of grass beginning to peak out from the bare pasture soil. We are well overdue for some soul renewal!

P was out giving lifeshighway a lesson, so I begged her to watch Solo canter in each direction and tell me what she saw, since she is used to watching him go and has a good eye. She reported that he looked pretty decent and did not display anything other than his normal slight stiffness on his stiff side. Which means I need to stop obsessing and just ride the damn horse.

She also confirmed that we are doing the right thing by taking it slow. Even though it drives me nuts to sit on the horse and not ask for much. If you don't give the rehab its due time, the problems can haunt you for years down the road and THAT is the one thing that keeps my impatience in check.

P has dealt with this in the past as well. Her Dutch mare was a bit uneven behind and had to be ridden in shoulder-fore for 3 YEARS before it went away. Which on one hand makes your eyes bug out, but on the other hand, tells me that no, my horse is not oddly crippled, he just needs time strength-building and we'll get back closer to good.  I need to forget about what is happening a month from now, two months from now, and focus on today.

Just ride the damn horse and stop flipping yourself out, just ride the damn horse...

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The Demands We Make On Ourselves

Operation Solo Rehab is on Day 3. It's hard to not ask him to be round and bendy; it takes me forcing myself to just get up off his back, give him his head and just let him trot and canter around per Dr. Bob's orders. I put the jumping saddle on last night so I would be less tempted to sit there. God knows my two point needs work anyway.

He feels ok. I still think there is something going on in his left hind. But he's ALWAYS been uneven in that leg. Maybe he always will and I just need to accept it and move on. He's not lame, it's just a little weaker and more resistant there. It is very subtle, I can't even see it from the ground, but I can feel it at certain times.

Which brings me to my current subject of thoughtful contemplation: patience. It's something I pretty much suck at with people, but have an abundance of with animals. And it's something we as horse people are constantly challenged by, as I am recently reminded by several other bloggers who are struggling with issues, as we all have at one time or another.

Part of me says, well, I took Solo to vet, vet went pop, pop, pop, Solo should now be fixed and fine so let's get on with it already! But, as we all know, it doesn't work that way. I am telling myself over and over, you have to give the body time. Time to heal, time to strengthen, time to adjust.

It is so hard for me to do this: I have a goal (which is rare for me, I'm generally all about the day-to-day journey), I have a plan. I am ready to take steps forward to that goal. So when I am derailed in the plan, I beat myself up. You messed up, I tell myself, you mismanaged, you were too slow, you made the wrong decision, now you are off track.

This, of course, is not really fair. I don't let my friends do this to themselves, however, I expect myself to be superhuman. Something which I don't think is all that uncommon among the ranks of independent horsewomen (and men, although I think just due to our natures, us girls tend to be a bit more blame-y on ourselves. We get emotional, I can own it). So this is a lecture to my brain.

Training is the same way. I've talked before about how horse training is NOT a linear process. We must be patient and allow that there are going to be bad days, there are going to be mistakes, and there are going to be backtracks. But instead of beating ourselves over the head when this happens, we instead should welcome the opportunity to fill in training holes and to really focus on what our horse is telling us. Because I have found that I often learn the most about myself and my horse when working on these holes and as we fill them in and tamp down the metaphorical dirt, the pleasure of the more complete horse you get out of it is measurable.

Now can I live up to all of this? HA! Not bloody likely! But I aspire to it. On rare occasions, I pull it off. More often, I sit my frustrated self down and give myself a stern talking-to while prying my clenched teeth apart with a drill bit. I should probably just print "BE PATIENT" on a huge piece of posterboard and tape it to Solo's stall door.

David told me recently in a jumping lesson, "Allow the jump time to develop; the greater the quality of the jump, the longer it will take to develop and occur and it's ok to just wait for it to happen. Rushing it will only cause it to fall apart." I think it's a good analogy to extrapolate to any other situation you can imagine: allow things time to develop, time to happen, and allow yourself time to process, learn, and adapt. When we rush things or when we fail at being patient with ourselves, it all just falls apart and we end up in the corner, punching ourselves and muttering angrily (ok, maybe that last is just me).

Let's all remind ourselves to take a deep breath and cut ourselves a little slack. It's good to be driven and it's good to be accountable. But let's give the process time to happen and be ok with however long that time is, whether it be healing or learning or strengthening. And maybe when we catch each other falling into the self-flagellation trap, we can offer a helping hand of encouragement -- or at least a damn stiff drink.

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Solo Deepens His Relationship With Dr. Bob

I kick myself for not thinking of the chiropractic thing earlier.

I unloaded Solo at Dr. Bob's clinic (having already given all my money to my own body-fixers and various other bill collectors, I decided to save myself a farm call charge, since the clinic's only about 15 minutes away) and peeled off his shipping boots. Dr. Bob looked like he'd had a rough day, his hands were all cut up, and he was uncharacteristically quiet so I hoped that we could quickly find the root of Solo's problems and provide him with a "happy" case of the day. I told him I had ascertained thus far that the problem was somewhere behind his nose -- beyond that I had given up in exasperation.

He started at Solo's nose and began to work his hands over accupuncture points and joint spaces, looking for tightness, soreness, and reactivity. What I saw was my horse twitching and jumping at practically every touch (except his feet - yay feet!). By the time he reached the tail, my well-developed sense of guilt had slapped me in the face.

"So is there any spot where he ISN'T sore?" I asked desperately?

"Sure, lots of them, don't worry!"

*sigh* Well, ok, maybe I am not a complete failure of a horse caretaker then.

Dr. Bob retrieved his booster step and went to work coaxing all the wayward bits back into place. There were two rotated cervical vertebrae at the poll, another at the base of his neck. L-3 and -4 (lumbar vertebrae) were rotated as well, as were his withers, and several S-I (sacral) vertebrae were elevated out of place. The shoulders needed a good stretch and pop and Solo was quite happy to lean back and help out. We also added another shot of Winstrol to help tighten and rebuild some lost muscle tone to try convince things not to pop back out.

"So, he's all fixed now, right?" I was only half-kidding.

"Of course -- go ride him!" Dr. Bob seemed to have brightened a bit, so it gave me reason for encouragement.

The plan: Bute for 3 days as a balm for sore muscles. Do only conditioning rides for 7 days, trot and canter in a loose outline, avoiding collection or too much bending. Then work back into a normal schedule and see what happens.

Please be fixed, please be fixed, please be fixed...

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Despondency Is No Fun At All

All bummed out and nowhere to go.

Solo did not feel any better on our test ride today. Which means our problems are probably not inflammation, since the bute had little to no effect. He still won't lift his back and push from behind. He still locks down the left side of his jaw HARD. So I am still miserable.

Next step: he is due for a chiropractic adjustment anyway, so I'll call the vet on Monday. If I'm lucky, they can adjust and inspect our mysterious problem.  If I'm really lucky, that will SOLVE our problem.  The hard part will be detecting something that causes no limping, swelling, or heat.

Till then, Mr. Shiny will be hanging out with his buddy, Pete, waiting for dinner and getting fat. *sniff*

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Me So Handy

I am hoping the warming weekends mean that winter is moving on out. If it's not, I may use the pitchfork in a forceful manner to encourage it to do so.

Solo is finishing up his bute regimen and I will attempt to get on him tomorrow to see what I have under me. Keep your hooves crossed please!

Since one must keep oneself busy in winter to avoid assuming the shape of an eggplant, I decided to load all my power tools in the truck last weekend and attack some crippled jump standards we'd been storing. Yay, power tools! Music to a girl's ears...

There were four gate wing standards.  Two had legs rotted off and several of the middle boards were, well, held together by duct tape.

I'm on it!! Just give me an extension cord and I'm entertained for hours! Ok, at least an hour till I get impatient and figure out some shortcut that won't look quite as good but hey, it's fixed! Check out the prowess in action! Thank god I am better at building things than I am at dressage.

I know, it's amazing I didn't saw a finger off. Solo and I share accident-prone genes. We make up for it with, uh, our charmingness, of course!

Voila! One of my newly patched masterpieces. Mad skillz, baby, mad skillz.

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Big Red Fire

I spoke to Dr. Bob again on Tuesday.  We agreed given the sudden onset of Solo's discomfort and the fact that he wasn't "warming up out of it," he's probably tweaked something while leaping around in the pasture on the crappy winter ground.  So now it's a week of bute and no work for him and a week of staring despondently for me, while I hope fervently every day that this is just a passing ache and that I'll soon have my horse back.

As a consolation prize, I had the DVD release of the 2010 film "Secretariat" in hand, eager to revisit the magnificent horse I met long ago (left). Since it was the Disney version, I braced myself for historical inaccuracy and cheesiness. Turns out, they should have named it "The Penny Chenery Story," as Secretariat seemed to play a minor supporting role. And the horse who played Red could not capture the legend's incredibly regal eye and proud soul. But it was a fair introduction to this mind-blowing athlete for people who may not have grown up with his story and included Big Red's bitter rivalry with Sham, a brave bay (ironically, bred and owned by Claiborne farm, where Secretariat retired) who never raced again after his defeat in the 1973 Belmont Stakes.

But the redemption of the film is in watching beautiful horses run; it never fails to make me catch my breath and go still. Because I know how it feels to sit on top of 1200 pounds of red fire. I know the sound of each foot as it hits the ground and pushes off, propelling a chestnut rocket to ever greater speed. I know the chug of air that rushes into two flared nostrils to fuel the flame stoked within. I know the incredible surge of muscle as a burnished copper back and hindquarter coils and releases immense energy in the name of the gallop. And I know the electricity of sitting on top of the unadulterated joy of running, the flaming of a soul who lives to stretch out well-muscled legs and eat up the earth in quickening strides.

I have been lucky. I have been blessed. And I will never forget it.

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Raise Your Hand If You Have Arthritic Changes!

Mine's up.  Solo raised his hoof too.

The chill outside doesn't help. It's a sharp, clear cold. The stars are harsh pinpricks in the ink black sky and Orion hovers in sharp focus in the southern sky above the barn. A biting wind cuts through every doorjamb and under every wall to pierce the back of your collar with its icy fangs.

I've spent all week bouncing around doctor's offices; my neck and back have been locked up for ages and I'm sick of just tolerating the pain. My physical therapist dude has been working on it, but we both can tell the problem is deeper. The chiro studies the xrays and says my neck is permanently screwed, there's no curve left in it at all. "But," he says, "we can keep it mobile and at least all your discs look good." Then he cancels out that by pointing out the arthritic changes along the processes of my lumbar spine. Damn. But hey, the discs are good!

Then this afternoon, it's the eye doctor's turn to crush my world a little more. My eyes have decided to be even lazier than they were before and I've moved from a 6 to a 7.7. Ouch. That was unexpected.

"So, I know that's way too high for Lasik to fix; are there any options for repair at this level of myopia?" I hold my breath, hoping for an impossible affirmative answer.

"Nope," he replies, "not till you're 60 and you get cataracts, then we can just give you a new lens."

"Oh. So you're saying that I should basically try to give myself cataracts."

"Yeah!" (He seems a little too enthusiastic about this...) "Just take your sunglasses off and let the UV do its thing. Well, no, on second thought, then you'll get macular degeneration, so never mind. Nope, you just have to wait."

Then he finishes me off with the old "but, hey, you never know what scientific advances they'll make in the next ten years!" *sigh* Yeah, sure.

By the time I got home, I was thoroughly discouraged. It's not all bad though -- the chiro reckons we can keep things moving and manage the pain back down to human levels and physical therapist reckons he can help keep everything suppler, if that's a word. I can't see worth a crap, but at least I have finally found contacts I love and stay comfy even in the dustiest, most hay-filled sheds.

Then there are irreplacable friends -- lifeshighway generously offered to be my seeing eye old lady when my eyeballs rotted at age 40 and even offered to hit people with her cane when they got in the way. Now THAT'S a true friend right there!

Nonetheless, I maintain, aging is a bitch and I highly recommend avoidance at all cost. And insurance is a joke -- this shit is still ridiculously expensive, even just in co-pays, how the heck are people supposed to take care of themselves if they want to buy groceries too???

And that is the end of my whining for now. Back next time with horse stuff. Because horse stuff is way better.

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Cross Country With Becky OR Why You Should Never Take A Jump For Granted

Cross country day promised to be many things.  Solo & I didn't run till after lunch, so that meant I got to spend all morning watching the Training & Prelim folks go (which means I got to spy on them to see what I'd have to force my aching legs to do).  So I limped up the long sandy path from the stabling which led through the woods & around the field to the steeplechase area.  As the group moved on to the cross country course, I quickly discerned my goal for the day:

WANT TO JUMP THIS! (double stairstep bank that Jammie & Rocky demonstrate effortlessly)


Like, want so bad I can't stand still.  Want so bad that I tell everyone around me how much I want it.  Want so bad I work myself up into a frenzy of want.

Note to you non-eventers out there: this is one of the classic signs of a terminal case of eventing fever. The twitching, the frothing of the mouth, the hopping motions all indicate an incurable eventer who has spied a new obstacle to attempt. Do not try & stop her, it is pointless to intercede. Just stay out of the range of any limbs that may be thrashing with excitement, I wouldn't want you to get hurt.

Moving on...

(It's going to be a long story, but if you stick with it, I promise great entertainment.)

At one o'clock, I head up the path again, only this time on my horse. One member of our group has never really schooled cross country; I caution her that once she gallops through that water at the end, she will no longer be able to think about anything else for the rest of her riding days.

To begin, Becky wants us all to gallop the steeplechase loop sans jumps so she can watch our galloping position & our gallop rhythm. Solo is more than happy to oblige with the galloping through a field bit, but I have to remind him about every 0.2 seconds about the rhythm bit. I choose to ignore the burn of my thighs, what do thigh muscles know about what is important anyway?

After our circuit, Becky offers effusive praise for our rhythm & position & my ego shoots up about 25 points. Which is probably about 30 points higher than it should be.

"Okay," she says, "Now do the circuit again, but include the small steeplechase jump."

This jump is maybe a 2' or 2'3" wooden coop with fake plastic sticky "brush" coming out of the top. No problem, a simple fly jump. Solo's already sniffed the brush anyway.

I gallop off with a smug little smile, thinking, We're so awesome. My horse is awesome. I am awesome. Everyone is going to watch us do this jump so easily & they will wish that they were us!

Ha.

We roll around the turn & I put my eye on the jump. I half halt, balance my horse, & casually gallop up to it. I'm so busy thinking about how easy it all is, I only barely notice Solo's front feet tap the ground for takeoff & I lean forward for his jump.

Only there is no jump.

The next thing I know, I have cartwheeled over Solo's head as he ducked & spun to the right as he is wailing, "OMG, HORSE SPEARING STICKS OF HORRIBLE DOOM!!!!" I am flat on my back on top of the jump with a hearty whack & I think, Cool, this vest is awesome, I can't feel a thing! Then I slither backwards & land conk! on the nice baked clay on top of my head (that helmet's pretty sweet, too).  Finally, I am sitting on the ground with a bridle in one hand (I always wondered how people did that) & a fly bonnet in the other. Damn, I wish there were pictures.  Oh besides that one on the right.  Yeah, that's what I totally looked like.

I look to the right & I see a shiny chestnut butt & tail hightailing it into the woods back to the stabling. I think I can hear a distinctly equine snicker.

I look to the left & I see Becky walking towards me. "Well," I say, "that was unexpected."

"Now do you understand why we emphasize staying back before the jump?" she admonishes.

"Yes, ma'am, yes I do!"

Unfortunately, now I must do the Walk of Shame with bridle in hand to fetch my very naughty horse. It's a long way to stabling (remember that sandy path I mentioned), so they are kind enough to give me a Gator ride. A few minutes later, Solo ambles up to me as I exit the Gator with pricked ears. Hey, mom, whatchyou been up to? I just had a great gallop!

I resist the urge to call him a very nasty name. Or at least I resist saying it out loud.

He has a bloody mouth & it appears he has either bitten his tongue or hit his nose on the jump.

I don't feel very sorry for him right now.

The bloodflow has stopped though & he cheerily accepts the bit, so I swing back up & we trot down the path (again) to rejoin our group.

With my ego thoroughly deflated back down to proper levels, we gear up to have at it again.  We must do the little jump & we are given our choice whether or not to do the Big Kids' jump.  This time, I am sitting on the back of my saddle & my legs are well-wrapped in place.

And the shiny bastard refuses it, clearly terrified that the plastic sticks will stretch up & grab his little wussy hooves in mid-air. I am ready this time though & we whip around with a snarl.

Now I am seated approximately on Solo's tail & the spurs are fully engaged. There is no option; he WILL go over or go through, these are his choices. Wisely, he opts for the former with all the grace & beauty of an orange goat.

And damn straight, we are DOING the Big Kids' jump!!  Solo considers & finds this aligns with his best interests.

And after that...things went smooth as warm butter.  I most certainly did NOT get ahead of my horse (funny how I had zero further temptation to lean forwards) & Solo took everything as old hat (it's amazing what proper riding can do).

As we work the bank complex, I hear Becky telling our newly-converted classmate to watch how we go up the bank because "she's riding great now."  Ha.  Ok, that was pretty funny... 

Oh yeah, & that second picture? That's us going up the DOUBLE BANK. WAHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

The Red Machine gets a well-earned drink after we finish at the water complex.

As always, we ride back to the stable with a big stupid grin on our faces (well, at least mine).  Oh, & our classmate whom I warned about the habit-forming properties of cross country?  Yeah, she can't wipe that shit-eating smile off her face, I'm afraid her cheeks will pop.  We have a new convert!

The Wisdom Of Becky With Respect To The Ego-Maintenance Tool That Is Solo:

-STAY BACK when jumping at speed.  Sit down on his tail & push him forward with your seat & leg, especially at slower gaits. Stay very strong in your core & don't let the horse pull you forward & compromise your position.

-If you keep your position, when that stutter step in front of the fence happens (you know which one I mean), you just wait & let him jump up in front of you.

-When galloping, put your hands down on his withers & keep them quiet until you need to make a correction; don't carry them up.

And I must add a huge thanks to Morgan, for all the pictures!! She worked hard all weekend to get some shots of everyone enjoying this fantastic opportunity & we are so grateful for it. Great job, kiddo, & thanks again!

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In Which Solo Tries Once Again To Off Me Via Cardiac Arrest

So I may have mentioned that Solo is out of shape a bit. And I may have mentioned that we had a great ride for a couple of hours yesterday. That involved a fair share of trotting and cantering on hills. Which we haven't done, oh, since May-ish. But still, not too terrible. So I thought.

I went over tonight with the intention of just doing a light longe session since I will be away with work for the next three days. I pull Solo out of his stall after feeding the horses and nonchalantly begin a quick grooming. La la la, no biggie. I go to pick out his feet since the horses have been in due to heat today. La la la, easy peasy. Until Solo will NOT pick up his left hind. I ask a little more determindly, puzzled because he ALWAYS picks them right up. He sags his weight down through his hip and wobbles lopsidedly in the wash rack to the point where I worry he may lose his balance.

I, being me, immediately decide he has some terrible neurological disorder or nerve damage in his hip and move him back to his stall to continue my expert diagnosis without danger of falling on concrete. I poke and prod ankles and hocks, carefully watching every ripple of muscle. I walk him, I back him, I turn him. He doesn't look lame, but he STILL won't pick up that foot, no way no HOW. As I ponder calling the vet to deal with this certainly serious injury, I see BO walking up to barn and figure I will have her have a look.

She pokes, she prods, we take him out of his stall. I jog him up and down a slight incline, where again, he shows no sign of lameness. I stare and fret and in my core, my heart is beating a mile a minute. BO tries to pick up his foot again. Solo obliges this time. And you know what?

How about an out of shape horse goes on a vigorous trail ride, then spends a day in a stall (which he is not used to, since they only come in to eat or in extreme heat) so his joints stiffen. Oh, and he's overdue for his Adequan.

Ok, so maybe I overreacted a teensy tiny bit. But, hey, it's not my fault my horse had this huge melodramatic response like he was going to fall over and die if he lifted his leg. And then he was fine after ten steps of trot.

Horses....

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My Vet Has Mystical Powers

Not too long ago, I took Solo in to Dr. Bob to have his Coggins pulled.  Dr. Bob LOVES to talk, so inevitably we end up chatting about 14 different things at each appointment, as he throws out his rather impressive depth of knowledge on all things equine.  On this particular day, he displayed his uncanny ability to read a horse's body like a newspaper without laying a hand on it.  Just standing there, eyeing Solo as he was tied to the trailer, this is what Dr. Psychic shared with me as my mouth was hanging open in awe.  Apologies if it's a little disjointed, I came home afterward and frantically wrote down everything I could remember, he threw a LOT of information at me!!

It appears that I have been riding him much more round (here he points at a muscle at the base of the neck in front of the withers that apparently gave us away) and we have moved up a level over the winter (OMG, um, yes, yes we have).

Occasional back soreness is due to that fact that while the front end has developed muscle brilliantly, the back end needs to catch up; this is probably why back toes are dragging so much too. But he shows no sign of stifle issues (fighting farrier, refusal to pick up canter leads, extreme handedness, strong toeing out), which I had asked about just to make sure that any resistance I was feeling wasn't coming from this.  His body at this point plateaued until his hind end can catch up to the front and middle.

There may still be a little scar tissue inside the foot from the low heel problem we've spent the last many moons fixing.  The outside looks great, but the internal structures take much longer to heal.  This tissue will eventually break up and heal completely and is probably pretty close to complete already since his angles have been looking great.

We should do a blood panel this summer to check cell counts, etc. This will also show any parasite loads since stuff encysted in intestines will not show up on a fecal. Horses generally have a drop in cell levels in summer due to heat stress. For older horses a steroid shot can help boost these cell levels so they thrive under a workload better.  (me back in:  I intend to do some research on this one.  I don't want to be shooting steroids into my horse on a whim, but I want to know for the future if this could be a useful tool.)

These days, we can help our horses stay more active and be healthier longer.  Medical advances have allowed us to provide better living through chemistry.

Use different exercises to help build a more balanced body (me again:  Dr. Bob has evented his own horses, which I love as it means that he understands the needs and development of the eventing horse).  Extended gaits work the gaskin and forearm. Collected work works the butt and abs. Use lots of hillwork always.

After your last spring competition, give Solo a two-three week break in summer to just bum around. Let any internal stress injuries which have not presented settle and heal. Do occassional light walking hacks only, no effort. After such a break, it takes about 4 weeks to bring back into condition.

Whew, I think that was it!!

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Sometimes Finishing Is Winning

Sorry, SillyPony, we did not perform show jumping with such brilliant finesse that the judge decided that all the other riders sucked and gave us a giant blue ribbon.   

I also have to say: THANK YOU, MUM, FOR BEING A GREAT CREW! She brought us water, snapped pictures and carried bell boots around for us this weekend and the company and assistance were invaluable. It is SO MUCH WORK doing an HT by yourself, just having an extra pair of hands is truly priceless!

Saturday night, still rolling from our XC high, we packed up and chugged up the road to A's house, a friend of a friend who graciously offered Solo a stall for the night. But not JUST a stall. A beautiful abode in a picturesque barn over which the house was built. The back of the stall opened directly into a private pasture all for Solo.

Funny story: I poured Solo his grain and as he began to munch, I worked on tying the back door of the stall open so he could choose to go in or out at his whim. As soon as I had it wedged open, Solo turns his head and looks and immediately stops eating and walks out the door. He stops, surveys his pasture, turns and looks over his shoulder at the door, then looks at pasture again, then turns around and marches back through the door. He then looks back at the door again and snorts as if to say, Now that is freakin' SWEET!!! All three of us watching died laughing.

Sunday morning dawned a gorgeous 70 degrees and Solo walked boldly out of his stall moving great. His back muscle was still tight, but it had lost its angry heat, so it got its morning massage and we loaded up to go.

The stadium course rode really well, despite what I thought were two terrifying bending lines. They turned out to flow quite smoothly and we even conquered the tough oxer-two-stride-vertical combination at the end. Tired Solo toes caught one rail on a skinny vertical we weren't quite forward enough to and thus ended up too deep at, but that's ok.

All in all, for a horse with a pulled muscle, I'd say my big red boy did pretty damn well and he jumped beautifully for me. He just couldn't carry himself for the dressage arena, but whaddya do? We finished in 18th place out of 30 horses, which gives me great hope for when Mr. Shiny Pants is back to 100%.  I consider our first recognized horse trial a success!

And I also want to send a shout out to the Carolina Horse Park and their new lower level course designer, Jeff Kibbie. He did a FANTASTIC job putting together a XC course that was not maxed out (thank you!!!!) at every jump, flowed perfectly, presented a variety of jump types and questions in a way that the horse could think about and tackle each with confidence. I don't who did the stadium course, but they also did an excellent job.

I'm going to make a separate post for photos because I confess that there may have been some photogasmic purchasing activity, plus mum's great shots.  So here is a teaser, shot by Pics Of You, of Solo looking classy coming out of the second bending line in stadium jumping.  Again with that stupid stock tie...

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The Night Before Rears Its Ugly Head

It's always a comedy of errors with me.  But I guess if it wasn't this would be a really boring blog.

I have cleaned enough tack for five horses. See, as I was cleaning my bridles for tomorrow, I thought, hey, while I have the cleaning stuff out, why not clean up and oil the old bridles hanging in the trailer and put them in a bridle bag so they will store better? About halfway through, it became clear this was a bad idea. So much leather...the only good part is when one old cavesson broke in my hand so I didn't have to clean it anymore!

The trailer is packed with a full water jug and hay bag; the first aid kit is stowed next to saddles and bridles and girths and spare girths and spare reins; the galloping boots and splint boots and bell boots and open front boots and spare bell boots and spare spare bell boots are hung.

Since I realized that despite my somewhat exhaustive supply of horse accessories, I was a bit short on apparel for a recognized dressage arena, sigh. All the buttons had been snapped off my coat at the last horse trial during an exhausted dismount. In my own true redneck fashion, I was just going to safety pin it shut. Well, BO would have none of that and insisted I borrow her jacket and stock tie.

So now I have a $600 jacket and a stock tie I don't know how to tie hanging in my closet. I am horrified to put the jacket on in fear that I will somehow ruin it merely by coexisting near it.

Oh and because smooth sailing would be too easy, as I was bathing Solo, I discovered he had a very inflamed muscle in his back. OF COURSE he does. He got a Sore-No-More massage and a dose of bute and a stern admonishment that he better have himself fixed up by 1 pm tomorrow!

Dear god, why does every adventure have to be so...typically me??!

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