A few weeks ago, with a heavy heart, I took Echo to his new home.
His foot just wasn't getting better. When he first started having problems, I said I'd give him a year, trying to give myself some boundaries since I don't have unlimited resources. I gave him a year & then I gave him more time after that. The vet & farrier & I poked & prodded & tweaked & tried, but there didn't seem to be any real progress. I found myself, emotionally & financially exhausted, at a crossroads.
I'll miss this face |
So after much agonizing over the spring & summer & finally admitting that denial wasn't going to magically become productive, I decided to try to find him a new place where he could just be himself & do what he was best at: making friends & looking decorative. He'd turned out to be a really good companion horse: he submitted to authority, he didn't have an aggressive bone in his body, he loved to play so would be good to keep a senior horse active, & he loved human attention & was pretty easy to handle on the ground.
I put my nose to the ground, in search of the right person, while making sure I was clear on what he needed & what his limitations were. If I was unsuccessful, I'd have to re-examine my options, but it was worth a shot. It took time, but we finally met a wonderful person who is exactly right for the Baby Monster. He is living his best life with another TB-lover who adores his ridiculous personality & her older mare, who was going to lose her aged companion, is enamored with this flashy new boy-toy.
I feel so grateful & fortunate to have found a place where I know he will be safe & loved. But this gratitude coexists with the inevitable sadness & my own frustration that my time with Echo ended this way. Apparently, sometimes these foot injuries just don't resolve cleanly no matter what you do & it's difficult to predict when that will be the case. I'm sure his physiology didn't necessarily do him a favor & I learned that I won't buy a small-footed horse again -- sometimes they do fine, but not this time. It's just a bit gutting after working so hard.
It is possible that eventually, Echo's body will find a new equilibrium & heal or compensate successfully. I hope that's the case for him, but even if it isn't, his new mom will still take great care of him. If he does come riding sound, she got the horse bargain of a lifetime. I had intended to sell him anyway once I'd realized he wasn't quite the right fit for me. I certainly learned that one should immediately sell a horse upon discovering this & not wait for them to hurt themselves & lose all value. Hindsight...
I do get some consolation in knowing that I improved Echo substantially. I taught him to be a good farm horse, so you can throw blankets on him, handle him easily, do weird human things around him. He definitely has a lot more skills under saddle. His body condition finally blossomed - he grew to be a lovely horse, filling out his body, with a shiny, dapple-y coat, & I was finally able to reduce his feed a bit from "infinite." I worked out the huge, deep knots in his hips & got his SI back where it belonged. His back feet looked pretty darn good & even his mismatched fronts were vastly better than where they started. All that took a very long time, but it's not nothing.
Looking damn good this past June |
Now it's time to try & look forward. It's hard to do in my demographic of "fiscally challenged," but I'm keeping my ears open for a cheap, kind (sound, with proper feet!) gelding who is probably green but is looking for a good life. Solo has the temporary company of our borrowed neighbour gelding, Gabe, but I know he will be happy when he can be the boss again. I'm trying not to get too frustrated with the crazy horse market right now, telling my stir-crazy brain to try & be patient while I find the project it desperately needs.
Life would be easier if I could just care about something like knitting. Doesn't make nearly as interesting stories though...