Solo Steps In & Other Updates

Thank you again to all who took the time to share compassion & kindness for the loss of our dear friend.  I miss Richard very much.  I miss bumping into him feeding his horses when I get home from work, when I would stop the truck for a chat.  I miss his friendly greeting of, "Hey, girl," always accompanied by his infectious smile.  Sometimes I talk to him as I walk around the farm now -- it's not the same without his quiet chuckle, though.  There were still so many things I wanted to ask him & stories I wanted to hear. 

In the meantime, Echo is working on shoulder healing.  Being a horse, he of course does not proceed in a linear, or even understandable fashion.  But there is slow progress.  And I'm getting pretty good at equine massage.

Ridiculous creature

In between those meantimes, I've been doing short work sessions with Solo.  Sometimes longeing, sometimes riding, at all times, a joy.  I decided since I don't know how many rides he has left in  him (although we never know that for any horse...or human), I didn't want to waste any opportunities.  We both love working with each other -- although Solo has distinctly less love for longeing, given his long & complex history with it.

We don't do anything complex -- walking, a bit of trotting, some ground poles, depending on what he is feeling up to (he never fails to tell me).  I sneak in a few steps of lateral work or transitions, then quickly look away in case he catches me trying to surprise him with his nemesis, Dressage.  Occasionally,  he gets excited & takes a few steps of canter.  I let him have it because it puts a big, stupid grin on both of our faces, but I bring him back after a few strides so he doesn't make himself too sore.

His bad foot gets tired quickly, so I keep field sessions around 30 minutes or so, although he can walk longer on a trail once Echo can go out again.  He's crooked, but I don't pick at him since he's 24 & carrying old injuries.  Despite that, he still has his lovely suspension when he lifts into the trot.  And I still get to spend a few minutes with my favourite view in the world.

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A Different Kind Of Derby

In an effort to give us all something to think about that is not tragic or terrifying, I present to you the following:

This weekend is the first Saturday in May, but due to COVID-19, for the first time since 1945, there will be no horses lining up at the post for the Kentucky Derby.  There WILL however be a Derby...

...of turtles! 

You can read the details here about the Kentucky Turtle Derby, which will even include an official race call by the Triple Crown announcer.  It doesn't sound like he has ever called a race this long before.  This isn't the first time racing reptiles have stepped in to give us something to cheer for:  the Turtle Derby emerged the same year, 1945, of the last equine Derby cancellation.

I will definitely be tuning to see the athletic prowess of delightfully named animals including Seattle Slow & Sir Hides A Bunch.  Thank you to whoever is organizing this, I, for one, sorely need a little levity.

It'd be even funnier if they actually ran like this...

     

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Take Care Of The Caretakers

Thank you to all of you who took a moment to leave a comment or send a message - each means a great deal.  Our community, our world, has indeed suffered a great loss & it feels just that much dimmer without Richard in it.  While I am grateful that he didn't meet his end with this damn virus, in a hospital, attached to a ventilator, as I so worried, I would really rather he still be here to sit down & share a stale Oatmeal Creme Pie from his tack room stash.

I learned last week that Richard was only 70 -- which sounds old if you are 25, but not after you pass 40, as I have.  Until about a year ago, I felt certain that he would be one of those sturdy farmers who keeps working until they hit triple digits.  But then his wife became very ill (she still is) & Richard became a caretaker.

I don't think the situation of caretakers for the gravely ill gets talked about enough.  As I learned from personal experience, in some ways, it's even harder to be the "helper" than it is to be the sick person.  There are few to zero support services for caretakers & in many cases, people who are doing this work for someone they love are doing it in addition to their regular job/life duties.  They dedicate all their own resources, financial, emotional, physical, to supporting their loved one every way they can think of.  It is stressful, scary, & most of all, draining.

Because the caretaker is not doing this as a job, they don't get mandated breaks, there is no sick leave, there is no "signing off."  Because the caretaker is often driven by the twin engines of love & fear, they will push on into territory they would never have previously entered.  When this persists for a long time, as it so often does, the toll can be debilitating or even deadly.

I point all this out to say that if you know someone who is a caretaker, take note that they are at risk too.  Stress absolutely exacts a price from our bodies & the caretakers very much require care just as much as their charges do.  It's not anyone's fault, except for maybe the larger cultural system which doesn't do enough & that's a bigger problem than I can tackle.  But there are things we can do on the individual level to support each other. 

If you have the ability to give someone a break for a few hours or a day, do so.  Whether that be by helping with tasks or a financial contribution to hire some help, say, a house cleaner.  Maybe you can bring food or supplies or run errands if you are going to be out & about.  Maybe you can do some chores or take care of some pets.  Any of these things can help reduce some of that stress, even if just temporarily, it still counts.  And remember to check back in a few days & next week & next month & the time after that. 

If you ARE a caretaker, you are probably both tired & stubborn -- I hear you & I know that condition all too well.  Please hear me -- let others help you.  Ask for help.  It's not an imposition, we will all need help at one time or another.  It doesn't mean you are weak or incapable.  It's ok to be helped. 

None of us can fix everything or save everyone.  We can, however, by doing things that seem small & every-day, make a big difference in tough parts of someone else's life.  Maybe even save a life, but at the very least, add a bright spot where it is sorely needed.  Taking care of our caretakers is a win for everyone -- the world needs all the generous, compassionate people it can get.

And because this a horse blog that is about horse things -- I found a photo of Big Boy & Richard, both doing what they loved most, & I hope his family won't mind that I borrowed it from his obituary:

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Unexpected Loss

Saturday night, we unexpectedly lost a treasured human friend.  I still can't wrap myself around the size of the hole he has left in our lives.

I don't know exactly how old he was.  Maybe in his 70s, but up until a couple of years ago, he was strong, active, & capable of working harder than I was.  The past couple years though, he has been taking care of his wife, who has terminal cancer, which has dragged on far longer than anyone expected.  I can testify that the exhaustion & stress of watching cancer eat alive the person that you love is a deadly threat.  And so it was - Richard collapsed of a massive heart attack & a relative found him in his home Sunday morning.

"Heartbroken" does even begin to describe how I feel.

The first time I met Richard was when I came out to look at this property in 2013.  He was selling his back pastures, so he was also looking for a good neighbour.  As he carried me back through his fields in his utility vehicle, his soft-spoken kindness & gentle humour immediately put me at ease.  I fell in love with the parcel which became Flying Solo Farm, but part of that was due to added feature of having Richard next door.  For two people from two very different generations, we had a whole lot in common.

We both loved horses; Richard with Buddy the Appy, last April

FSF sits on the foundation he created.  He bought this parcel as cut-over timberland & transformed it to rolling pastures edged with mature oaks, pines, & sweetgums.  He built the fences by hand, hung the gates, established the forage that my horses use today.  He could have made more money selling this property to someone else but that was never what Richard was about.

I never could have built this place without him.  He used his enormous tractor to bushhog over-grown fields for me.  He moved & re-drove fenceposts so I could make new gates & he built the entrance road.  He taught me how to repair & adjust the hi-tensile fence so it stayed safe for horses.  He helped me improve my tractor bucket skills & pitched in to any project that was too big for my equipment.

2016: Fixing my driveway culvert

What defined Richard, though, was his generosity.  He owned every tool known to man & offered any of them to me.  It didn't matter how busy he was, if I needed a hand with something, he was there for however long it took.  And it was the same for any other person he met -- he lived to help others, no matter who they were.

As is common with those of generous spirit, Richard also had a deep & open love for animals.  His quiet, gentle way with them endeared him to dogs & horses with the same effect he had on people.  Broken hearts with darkened pasts found a balm for all the sharp edges that life cut into them.  He was a quiet port in which to rest, safe for a moment from battering seas.  It was his gift to abused equines.  It was also his gift to me.

Richard loved horses above all.  An avid trail rider, he showed me the vast network of trails across neighbouring properties that he'd strung together over the years & kept maintained.  Although he had a weakness for a flashy paint, his favourite horse, his Solo, was an old-school, plain bay TWH named Big Boy.  A big-moving, big-headed mahogany gelding overflowing with energy, the two of them used to do 15-20 miles a day the first few years I lived here.

I can't find any Big Boy photos, so here is Nobody, another of Richard's TWH & this was Richard's contact photo in my phone

Big Boy died suddenly last fall -- he was found dead in his pasture, not a mark on him, no sign of a struggle.  He was somewhere in his 20s & retired & we suspected his heart just gave out.  Richard buried him where he found him, on top of a hill looking over the fields where he had lived out a good life.  It's a little eerie looking back now, that they both went the same way. 

There's so many more good things I could tell you about Richard.  He was well-loved in this community & you'd be hard-pressed to find a person he hadn't helped.  He & his wife both grew up here in this small-town county & were related to everyone by blood or marriage.  He went far too soon & I know I'm not the only person missing him terribly.

2014: Driving anchor holes for my first hayshed w/ 100 HP behemoth

One of the things he was most looking forward to was eventually getting back to riding.  He hadn't been able to do much of anything due to his wife's health needs & he always put her first.  I worried so much that he wouldn't survive the stress, because I knew what a similar situation had done to me.  My deepest sorrow for him was that he didn't make it to that goal.  He missed riding so much & he never stopped cleaning his tack in hopes that he would get to use it again.

One day last summer, I did manage to coax him out on a brief ride in May, his first in two years.  I didn't know then it would be his last ride, but it makes me doubly glad I did.  It was a beautiful day, with summer sun dappling through the leaves & he kept telling me over & over how good it felt just to sit on a horse.  I couldn't stop smiling watching him.

That ride:  Richard & Smokey, me & Buddy

I've spent the last few days aimlessly wandering the farm & sitting on the porch, alternately weeping & cursing the unfair universe.  I miss my dear friend, I miss his gentle teasing, I miss his unintelligable phone calls of southern-mumble-quiet-drawl where I had to guess at every other word.  I miss his looking out for me:  if we didn't cross paths in his yard (my driveway goes through his farm) & he hadn't heard from me in a while, he'd randomly come back to the house & knock on my door just to see if I was ok & have a chat. 

Most of all, I miss one of the biggest hearts & kindest, most generous natures I have ever known.  I owe him so much - I tried to repay him via barter whenever I could, grooming his horses when he couldn't get to it, fixing small things for him, mowing a fenceline while I was on the tractor -- but he was so dang capable, I felt like I could never keep up.

2015: Plowing my driveway with his skidsteer (part of this amusing story)

I will forever be grateful to him for this farm, which has become my quiet sanctuary, although it will never be the same without his ready smile.  I will try to do what I know he would tell me to do:  enjoy the land, enjoy the horses whenever & however I get a chance, & enjoy quiet walks on pretty days.

I would ask this of you, readers, in honor of Richard:  look for opportunities for a small (or large) good deed, which can be as simple as checking in on someone who is on their own.  Don't wait to be asked - kindness unbidden is always a welcome gift & it is one that I will try to give more often because I know what it meant when given to me.

For Richard:  I don't think anything magical happens when we die & I don't think you did either.  Nonetheless, I choose to think of you meeting Big Boy on the other side, where you calm his anxious energy with a touch just like you did in life.  May the two of you step out together on the trail that never ends, free of the aches & worries that piled up behind you, with not a single fly in sight.  There will always be a part of you here on Flying Solo Farm & I will try my best to do it justice, even though I can never do it as well as you.  I will never forget all that you did for me & I will miss you always.

Farewell, my very dear friend.  Ride free.       

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Echo's Vet Update

Before I dive into the latest installment of Echo's vet addiction, I do want to send out my best to all of you.  I went back & forth, but decided that I wasn't going to write much, if anything, about The Virus -- it was already all the words on all the channels & I didn't think I had anything meaningful to add to all that noise.  The best any of us can do at present is to follow reputable safety protocols to the best of our ability & for your own sanity, turn off the news & the facebook (if you even watch it, I do not anyway as I don't need to add to my sources of anger).

We are fine (at least as much as we ever are) here -- my job is secure & I can do much of my office work remotely to the extent that my limited rural internet access allows.  Our field work is reduced, but we will still be working on mission-critical projects; there is plenty of room for social distancing in the river though.  I generally don't go many places outside of work anyway; I hate grocery shopping so much I only go maybe once a month (basically when there is literally nothing left in the house), & as an introvert, I don't encounter other humans often.  I remain grateful to have the horses at home, so not many changes for us.  I definitely feel for all of you who can't see your horses right now & am hoping that ends as soon as possible! 

If you are in a position to help others, but are not sure what to do, you can follow this link to a summary page from Charity Navigator of groups which are accepting donations to help with everything from medical supplies to food to financial assistance.  Sending even a dollar from your living room is risk-free for you & can make a difference to someone else.

Click to find a reputable charity helping those in need

Turning back to my problem child...

Earlier this week, I took Echo back to the vet, as his shoulder was just...lingering.  I had started doing stretches & massage about a week prior to that following a phone consultation with vet.  That treatment did bring about some improvement & Echo was moving a bit more freely with a little less limping, but I wasn't comfortable proceeding without a better idea of what exactly we were dealing with.

Also..."Echo's Vet Update" should probably be the new name of this blog.

Turns out he did indeed partially tear his triceps muscle.  Good news:  that muscle is enormous, covering the entire scapula, so there is plenty of "extra" to do the job it needs to do.  Also good news:  it will heal without any functional limitations.  Also good news:  he is at the point in healing where he can start to go back to work as he needs to use it to continue making progress.

Equine shoulder; From horsesidevetguide.com

Less good news:  muscles heal slowly & giant muscles heal even slower.  It will probably 5-6 months until it is completely healed.  He may have a permanent divot to add to his existing scar collection, but at least it won't affect anything.

In the balance, while it's not great, it could be so much worse.  At least we can start doing things again, while is a huge relief to us both.  I will, as always, be conservative -- I got on a couple days ago & we just did walk work & stepping over poles.  Of course, Echo is already happily trotting & cantering around in the pastures on his own.  I'll never know exactly what happened -- maybe it was a kick, maybe he just slipped, maybe it was both.

His lump 10 days ago

I did put him back on the Equioxx, carefully, after we finished other meds, & am relieved that he is having no issues with it, so he has that mild anti-inflammatory support as we work through the physical therapy process.  He also completed a week of Ulcerguard & his stomach is much happier, so he's back to eating his meals (although still at the slowest....speed.....possible).

Farrier also put the hoof testers on him last week & he had no reactions, so it looks like the coffin bone bruise is healed up too.  At least it helps me to gauge lameness without the compounding factor of that foot on the same leg as his shoulder.

I'm sure Echo will find new things to do, but it still felt good to cross at least a couple of the more recent issues off the list.  And even though I hate any injury in my horses, it's going to happen one way or another, because horses, so I'm still grateful when it is at least something that will heal, because I've dealt with enough things that won't & that is much worse.

Shaking off gnats while regaining weight, shine, & getting less lumpy every day

Baby steps for Baby Monster, but we will begin re-building that topline once again.  It should be easier this time since he has more skills than he did a year ago - some of them are even useful.

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