That's My Snoopy

I love A-HA moments

2012-02-01T21:27:00.000-08:00

This is, for most of you, going to be a "so what?" post, but bear with me. I have a point.

Yesterday, I had an a-ha moment in my lesson on Snoop. I've had lots of them, although maybe not enough of them to be as proficient on a horse as I'd like to be. But when a detail finally makes its way into my brain, I savor it. I cherish it. I describe it to myself as I drive home. I re-live the moment while I'm in the shower. If I could bronze it, I would.

The situation was this: Niki was asking me and Snoopy to lope a straight line across three poles. The poles looked, more or less, like this (the orange triangle is a cone on the corner):

The line we were supposed to lope was here:

I loped Snoopy around on the right lead first, pointed him toward the first pole, looked at the last pole, and thought we had it made. Niki, of course, was yelling at me to stand him up more. Oh, she wasn't yelling because she was mad. She was yelling because I get so zoned out when I'm riding, she's reduced to shouting and repeating herself. I figure, I'm giving her good training for when her son is about five and too busy watching cartoons to actually listen to her.

We loped over the first pole, loped over the X, then suddenly veered to the right. Before I knew it, Snoopy was jumping over the cone.

"Nope. Do it again." I heard Niki say that.

I tried it again, this time listening hard to Niki and pushing his left hip over and tugging the reins up over his withers. I confess, I wasn't sure why I was doing it, but I did it. Our line was perfect. I did it one more time to prove it wasn't a fluke, then turned around somehow and loped the same line on the left lead. This time I kept Niki's commands in my head and loped it perfectly the first time. It felt superb, like I was actively riding my horse and he was just as actively responding.

"Beautiful," Niki said. She kind of sang this, as in, "Hallelujah, the woman can be taught."

So here's the a-ha part: Afterward, I figured out what she was telling me to do. When I was looking down at Snoopy, he looked to be in a straight line, in that his hips and shoulders were parallel. I expected us to go straight.

But even though his shoulders and hips were parallel, they weren't even. His right shoulder and hip dipped slightly lower than his left side.

Even if his body seemed to be on a straight line, he would not be able to continue the line. Sooner or later, he would veer. By pushing his opposite side, it aligned the leaning side and made him truly travel in a straight line.

I know this is a little detailed and possibly dry and mechanical, but my point is that sometimes it is in the details, whether it's horseback riding or writing a novel or raising a child or living a life. Broad, sweeping changes aren't always necessary. It's that one minor adjustment that can give you the greatest reward.

Play nice!

2012-01-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

I read a post today at Equestrian Ink, about one horsewoman's discomfort with the idea of "liberty play" with your horse. You can go read about it, but the gist of her argument is that it's never a good idea to try to play with your horse as if you were another horse. Not unless you weigh a thousand pounds and wear iron shoes.In her words, "It works until it doesn't."

I was going to write a big long comment about my experience playing with my horse, but I decided to instead post my story here. After all, I have 5 followers on this blog - they might want to know!

A few years ago, the dog training pen in the front of the ranch was a turnout for the horses. It's a kind of oval shape, so trying to lunge a horse without a longline usually meant the horse would tear down one side of the fence, then stop in the corner and make you chase after them.

Frostie & Baby Snoopy in the old turnout

One day, I was in the pen with my mare, Frostie. I wanted her to run, but she just wanted to walk around and look for leaves to eat. If I had been a smart woman (key phrase here), I'd have taken a whip with me, or put her on a line. Instead, I just ran toward her, snapping the lead line, making shushing noises, and waving my hands. She ran.

Frostie in high gear

Then she stopped. Then I chased and she ran again then stopped. Then turned when I didn't ask for it, etc. Pretty soon, we're doing this weird kind of keep-away dance. I'd run, she'd run, then turn and I'd have to quickly try to turn her back. Of course, as I'm doing this, I get a little lost in the moment and don't keep track of how close our bodies are getting.

Suddenly, with one stop, she turned her butt to me and a big red flashing lightbulb went off in my head, complete with System Shutdown Honk-Honk Siren. "You're too close! You're too close! Get out! Get out!" I turned and took two steps away from her.

They weren't far enough. She planted and fired out with both hind legs. Her ears weren't back, and the rest of her body didn't say she was mad or annoyed. She just looked like she was being playful. Unfortunately, her playful kick caught me in the butt.

The good news is, I was just far enough away to only receive the very tail end of the kick, so it didn't even knock me off my feet. I did have an interesting bruise on my tush.

Frostie ran to the other side of the pen, where she stood with her head down. She could have been pleased with herself, but (if you'll allow me a little creative license) she looked quite mortified.

The other good news is, I learned a valuable lesson that day. You can play with your dog. You can play with your food. But don't play with your horse. They outweigh you.

Can I taste you?

Oh, and if you think I'd ever play with this guy, you're out of your mind.

Goals for 2012

2012-01-04T13:11:00.000-08:00

My goals for this year are much like last's: enjoy my horse and take him to a few shows.

The first one is a one-day show in Desert Hot Springs, on January 14th. It's at the Willowbrook Riding Club, if you're interested in coming.

Then my selections get large and my decisions get foggier. I don't see anything on the horizon until April, when there are two shows. Three in May, then nothing until August. So the question I have to answer is, how many shows are too much for one month? Three in May seems exhausting, to me and the Snoop-Dog. But should I try for both in April? One is the first weekend and one is the second. (I'm not counting the Del Mar Nationals, because I'm just not going to that one.)

Maybe I should plan on the first horse show in the month. That way, if something happens, I've still got the second one to try to get to, instead of planning on the second one and having something happen.

Stay tuned. Snoopy and I may change our minds.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-23T23:00:00.000-08:00

We hope your holidays are safe, sane, and healthy, and that your New Year is dazzling.

Snoopy's mom learns something new today

2011-12-10T17:51:00.000-08:00

Here is Snoopy, relaxing in the roundpen. You can see, in the foreground, a mounting block. We keep it in the roundpen for two reasons: 1) sometimes we ride in the roundpen, when we start young horses or need a confined space for a lesson, and 2) it covers the hose.

Under the mounting block is a hole in the ground, which contains a faucet with a hose attached. We use this hose to water down the dirt. There's a concrete lid to the hole in the ground, but the mounting block kind of protects the whole thing.

Except when Snoopy is in the pen. Every time I put him in there, when I come back, he has removed the mounting block and the concrete lid. This always alarms me, as I think at some point, he will accidentally step into the hole and break another leg.

Turns out, that's not what I should have been worrying about.

Today, shortly after I put Snoopy out for some play time, I watched Niki walk over with a bunch of hay cubs cradled in her shirt. She tossed the cubes around the pen for Snoopy to find and eat.

"It keeps him busy, so he leaves the hose alone," she said.

I told her I was always worried about him stepping in the hole and that's when I found out the truth: Snoopy likes to get into the hole so he can turn the faucet on.

On one of his playdates, he actually broke the handle off the faucet. By the time Niki checked on him, the roundpen was flooded.

I knew my horse was a land shark. I didn't know he was amphibious.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

2011-11-27T21:32:00.000-08:00

That's right. It's time to take the Annual Family Christmas Photo!

Last year, I posted a few of the outtakes. This year, I thought I'd show you all of them. This is what we go through - for your entertainment.

We start with the easy task: arranging one boy, one dog, one cat.

When everyone's settled, I can walk away.

So far, so good. Well, good-ISH. Doesn't Katy the kitty look thrilled?

And then Dale takes his place... as instigator.

Once we add the horses, it's madness.

I'm left now with two options for our Christmas card: Should I be nice?

Or naughty?

Comments are always appreciated.

It's the simple things

2011-11-22T14:00:00.000-08:00

A roll in the dirt, a run around the pen,

I'm thankful for the simple things in life.

~ Snoopy

Goals are moving targets

2011-10-27T13:35:00.000-07:00

Meet Copper Kist. He was a red dun Quarter horse gelding, and the first horse I ever showed. Due to the AQHA rules, I couldn't show him in their events because I didn't own him, I only leased him. So I showed him in trail events at PCHA (Pacific Coast Horse Show Association) shows. Their shows have tons of classes for everyone, which is kind of a bad thing because the tendency is to enter all of the classes you are eligible for and the classes for a four-day show run every day, so by Sunday you and your horse are ready to drop.

(By contrast, AQHA shows have very few classes and each event shows two of the four days of a show.)

Showing PCHA was okay for me at the time, though, because I was younger and needed the show experience. After all, I'd only been riding for a year.

Copper, however, was a champion trail horse. I used to joke that I could just show him the drawing of the course and he'd memorize it. It wasn't that far from the truth. All I really had to do was ask him for the gait I needed, point him in the general direction of the obstacle, and he'd do the rest. He'd find the line we needed, adjust his stride to make it look pretty, and keep from clunking the poles.

We showed in Basic Trail for the season and wound up in second place, which earned me a silver buckle.

In the middle of showing Copper, I bought Frostie, intending to transition to showing her. She was so sweet and had such a cute little jog, we were going to teach her to do trail and we'd be able to do AQHA events.

Except that Frostie didn't like being a showgirl. She also didn't particularly like poles. She was never in the mood to learn how to find her own line and adjust her stride - she wanted us to do it for her. And I didn't know how to do that. Copper had taken care of me.

After a couple of years, I tossed my goal of showing Frostie into the Goodwill pile, and bred her instead. It was a foolhardy thing to do. If you have a mare that is not doing what you want, the last thing you should do is breed her and hope for a foal that will do what you want. DNA isn't usually that kind.

But I got Snoopy and he is a showhorse. He loves the excitement of being at a horse show. He loves his work, of going over poles. He loves it so much, he won the Trail Futurity as a 3-year old. After that success, Tina was certain we were going places. She was going to show him in Junior horse and try to get him qualified for the AQHA World Show (an invitational). I was probably going to start showing him when he was five, in Novice Amateur. We'd be in Select before we knew it.

Then, of course, he broke his leg, re-habilitated for a year and a half, and everything was put on hold.

Now he's back, sort of. His leg is as healed as it's going to be, and it's sound, but it's not the same leg he had at 3. There is a fused joint, a plate, and a bunch of screws, and the rest of his body compensates for what it no longer does. While he finds new ways to do old things, he has less tolerance for movements that are too fast or too tight. And he needs the chiropractor on a regular basis.

At first, Tina's goals remained unchanged. The doctor said he could go back to work, therefore we could go back to working toward the World. It was now too late to show him as a Junior horse, but we would just have to get him up to speed as a Senior horse. She was my trainer, so I was willing to go along for that ride.

Then, of course, Tina's grandson got sick, Niki got pregnant, and we all sat back for a year and took a deep breath. While Tina was spending almost every day at the hospital, I was taking lessons from Niki, who was trying to prepare me for when she went on maternity leave. The lessons were grueling, but specific and technical and good. I started to ride better. I started to feel confident on my horse.

We went to a couple of shows, which I've blogged about. I did place in those shows, but more importantly, I had a great time. I felt relaxed and confident on my horse, like I knew what I was doing. I wasn't trying to win, I was playing the "Niki tapes" in my head as I went through the course. Having a nice, slow-legged horse helped, since I had time to prepare for each obstacle.

Now Tina and Niki are back. The Niki at the barn today is the same Niki who left, except she now has a little boy to burble about. Our lessons resumed as if we'd never been out of training. Tina returned with expectations: she was going to resume her training of Snoopy and me and work toward qualifying at shows.

But I had a year to work with Niki and re-assess what I want to do with Snoopy, and suddenly the World wasn't so important. My goals became 1) to keep Snoopy as sound and comfortable as possible for his entire lifetime; and 2) to have fun with him. Neither of these involved campaigning him, or chasing points. The World show became icing on a cake, but the cake, the substance of what I want to do with Snoopy is to go to the shows I can afford (with time or money) and have a good time. I want to feel confident and relaxed and ride my horse pro-actively.

I was worried about telling Tina this. I wouldn't hurt or disappoint her on purpose for anything. But she needed to know what I wanted. I'm the owner, after all, plus I'm the one paying for training. And, even though Niki's lessons can be excrutiating, I end each one feeling proud of what I've accomplished.

So yesterday, the planets aligned to get everyone together, and I had a sit-down with both of them. Tina was much more receptive than I anticipated, and surprised me by agreeing that Snoopy will probably never go to the Open World but we might get to the Select. Maybe. She was definitely okay with my having fun with him, and after a lot of discussion about Niki's lessons versus hers, she agreed that, at least for now, I need Niki's more technical approach to help my engineering mind understand what I'm doing.

Now I'm happy to have everything cleared up and can look forward to the show season without worrying whether I'll be able to meet my goal of having fun. Goals need to be moving targets, because Life keeps adjusting our aim.

She's back!

2011-09-12T06:00:00.000-07:00

Niki's back! Niki's back! Niki's back!

Hi, I have some news: Niki's back. She started back part-time a couple of weeks ago. She's got one more week of part-time, then she'll be back mostly full-time. She won't be at the ranch on Wednesdays because her day care can't watch Tyler that day.

Meet Tyler Addison Owrey:

This is a picture of him in his baby-bucket stroller, while I pushed him around the ranch. You see, for a couple of days, I was his babysitter at the ranch while Niki worked horses (yes, she's back to riding). I told her I was willing to do anything to get her back to work. Of course, it didn't hurt that I thought it would be fun to hold a baby again. It was.

And now Snoopy and I can get back to work!

You can teach a horse to do a lot of things

2011-09-11T06:00:00.000-07:00

They may have been taught to bow, but their feelings are their own.

I miss you, Niki!

2011-07-15T23:14:00.000-07:00

Ziggy/Henry and Jet are BFFs

Since Niki has gone out on maternity leave, I have been doing horsey day care duties. This is how my first week went:

1. On Wednesday, Monte the farrier came and shoed several horses. NOTE: Monte is a VERY good farrier.

2. An hour after being shod, Frostie was not just lame, but two-legged lame. She is very sensitive about the nail placement. Monte had to reset the nails, pour iodine into the holes and give her some bute.

3. I gave Ziggy (renamed Henry) a turnout and spent an hour washing the dirt out of his coat, not to mention the dreadlocks I had to comb out.

4. On Thursday, Cody threw the shoe that Monte had put on Wednesday.

5. While we were waiting for Monte to come back out, Sue's horse, Gracie, decided she did not like her new shoe and started limping.

6. As an act of solidarity, Elliot started losing the packing out of one of his shoes.

7. I tried all week to ride Snoopy, but by the time I got all the horses done each day, I was tired and there was no one around to hear me if I fell off. I don't require a lot of supervision. I just need to know I won't lie in the arena, moaning, for more than an hour before someone finds me.

8. Cody also broke out in hives again, so I had to medicate him and monitor that.

9. Elliot, again feeling the need to be in with the In Crowd, developed grunge all over his butt that had to be scrubbed.

After a week and a half, I texted Niki. "Your job is hard."

I'm sure she's still laughing about that.

At the end of today, I got an interesting phone call from a lady interested in riding lessons for her two sons, seven and twelve years old. I explained our program: a one-hour private lesson which consists of learning to groom, and ride.

"So, how long is the actual riding," she asked.

"It depends upon how quickly they get the horse ready, but usually it's 30-40 minutes."

"And how many lessons until they know how to ride?"

"I can't really say. It depends upon their motor skills, balance and focus."

This eluded her. "But how long on average would you say?"

"I have no average. I have some students who are fairly proficient by the fourth lesson. Then I have some that take months."

"Well, how long are you out on the trails?"

Trails?

"We don't ride on trails. We ride in an arena."

"Oh, an arena," she said. "Like for racing?"

"No, there's no racing." I've never had to explain an arena to anyone, but I tried. "An arena is... a dirt area surrounded by a fence."

"Oh, okay." Then she stunned me. "Well, let me talk to my boys to see if they want to do this. They've never even seen a horse."

I'm fascinated: She obviously had no knowledge of riding, and her sons had not requested this activity. What possessed her to think of trying this?

Stay tuned to see if she calls back for an appointment. In the meantime, I miss you, Niki!

A new chapter begins

2011-07-08T20:38:00.000-07:00

I have two trainers, Tina and Niki. They are both very good at their jobs. Most of the time, I work with one of them until we reach one of those sticking points where we're no longer communicating. Then the other one takes over. It's kind of like tag-team wrestling.

Last Christmas, Niki made a surprise announcement: she was expecting. It was sort of a surprise because for the several years I've known her, she's told me she didn't want kids.

I kept telling her to never say never.

I didn't want kids until I was around, oh, Niki's age. Then I understood the importance of having a family, and the sheer gamble of raising a child, with its risk of losing it all to heartbreak with each time you hit the jackpot.

Niki and her hubby were told they probably wouldn't get pregnant without medical intervention, so they prepared for rounds of drugs and shots and fertility rituals. Before they got to that, however, Nature intervened.

Niki lunging Ziggy

I had no idea I'd be so excited by her pregnancy. I've only got one kiddo. Hubby and I tried for more, but the baby factory was closed. So I've got 18 years of experience at child rearing, not to mention 9 months of pregnancy, that I have never been able to use.

It was lovely to be able to tell Niki what was normal and what wasn't, to talk about having a C-section (the doctor thought it safest due to an earlier surgery), to let her know it was okay to be terrified of bringing a newborn home and not know what to do with it. I sent her an Internet article about C-sections and babies. The best part of the article advised her, for the first two weeks, to have three things on her To Do List: take care of the baby, take a shower, brush your teeth.

She told me it became her mantra. Baby, Shower, Teeth. Baby, Shower, Teeth.

The last week

As she got closer to the due date, lessons got more demanding. Tina is currently dealing with a grandson who had a bone marrow transplant (aplastic anemia) in addition to running the ranch and teaching dog obedience, so our training sessions may be sporadic. I'm trying to be flexible, but Niki knows I will be riding Snoopy under less supervision than before. She was determined to teach me how to tell when he was out of frame and how to correct him immediately when he wants to be a lazy butt.

On Tuesday, her last day, we had a helluva course, out in the sweltering heat. I did a lope-jog-lope sequence until I was nearly blind with exhaustion. But we got it. Afterward, there were lists of things for me to do. I'm taking care of horse day care while she's away. We went over the list of who gets a turnout or lunge when. We went over a lot of things.

After I went home, I got a few more texts, going over a few more things.

Wednesday and Thursday were spent with more texting. At one point, I sent her a picture of Ziggy the pony's mane. It was in a hot tangled mess. "This is his mane one day without you," I said. "He looks like Ziggy Marley."

She wanted to know what the farrier said about the horses. She called the people who needed to be told about their horses' feet. She worried about us.

And then Friday morning, they wheeled one woman into the operating room and wheeled out one woman plus one baby. Little Tyler was here!

I had joked with Monte, the farrier, that after Friday, Niki would be saying, "Ranch? What ranch? I got a baby!"

Some people speculate she won't want to come back, but I think she will. I loved my son (still do), loved being with him, but needed a scheduled break from him. I wasn't used to being around babies. It allowed me to do what I used to do and know who I used to be, and his day care provider gave me another expert to call upon when I wasn't certain what to do with him.

We're, of course, going to do everything we can to transition Niki back to the barn, even if one of us rocks the baby while she rides. We're gloriously happy for her and her hubby, and can't wait to meet Tyler.

If in a couple of months, she thinks she just doesn't want to get back in the saddle, we'll accept that. But I really don't believe it. After all, how can she leave this face behind?

When you have to win all the battles or lose the war

2011-06-22T23:10:00.000-07:00

Snoopy is who he is. Tina likes to blame his blundering, boundary-less, intrusive, mouthy personality on me, but I think he would have been that horse no matter who raised him. After all, when he was a baby, our groom Hilde worked with him as much, if not more, than I ever did.

I love my big, black horse AND he is a pain in the ass. After six years, I've decided he can't help himself. He wants something in his mouth all the time. All. The. Time. Truly, if he were human, he'd be a chain smoker. Or maybe that guy who's always chewing gum.

So as I'm leading him, he wants to hold the lead rope in his mouth. Or the longe line. Or the reins. Or my shirt. I smack him and he stops - for five seconds. Sometimes less. I always start out being nice. I take the lead rope away from him. Next, I take the lead rope and tug him sharply. We escalate from there, until I'm either popping his nose with the rope or smacking him across the chest and backing him up across the yard.

None of it matters. He doesn't remember, and it wears me down.

For a long time, I let him hold the lead rope in his mouth when we walked. I thought it was a harmless way to keep from beating him every five seconds. It's like having a kid that tests you EVERY (FREAKING) SECOND OF EVERY (FREAKING) DAY. You start picking your battles.

This, unfortunately, was a battle I should have picked.

A few weeks ago, I was taking him back to his stall and stopped to talk to a friend. We were chatting about nothing in particular, blah, blah, blah. And then it happened. Snoopy reached down to grab the lead rope. Except he missed the rope and got my index finger.

Let's say it all together: "OOOOOOOWWWWWWWW."

There was no broken skin, nor broken bones. There was a lot of spanking, and cursing.

Here's the thing - it's been weeks and I still don't have all the feeling back in my finger. It was my own fault for 1) not paying attention while I was chatting, and 2) ever letting him hold the lead rope.

I hate being a mean mom. I have to choose ALL the battles. Do you think he'll ever grow out of his oral fixation?

Keep Out! In the nicest way.

2011-06-14T17:43:00.000-07:00

Do you ever drive by a house that has a gorgeous rose garden in the front yard, or an inviting courtyard, or even a bounce house set up for a birthday party? Do you ever pull over to the curb and wander around these strangers' property?

No. No, you don't. It's called trespassing. I don't know about you, but one of my goals in life is to stay out of jail.

So, given that most people do not even traipse across their neighbor's lawn, what is it about a ranch that invites people to come on in and look around?

The ranch where my horses are boarded does have a steady business with both horses and dogs. There are four horse trainers, riding lessons offered, doggie day care and boarding, obedience classes, etc. We want the facility to be open and inviting to the people who want to board their horses/dogs or take lessons.

But twice now, I've had to tactfully escort people from the property who had "just stopped by to look at the pretty horses." One day, there were two teenagers who were wandering through the furthest barn, petting the horses. This is the barn we affectionately call "Murderers Row." At least 5 of the 8 horses in there would love to sink their teeth into you. They're not mean - just curious. Today, it was two women with a two-year old in sandals in the first barn. This is the kindest, gentlest barn, but still - a two year old in sandals?

I gently explain that there are liability issues, apologize profusely, and show them the gate. So far, they've been very understanding about it.

But one of these days, I'm gonna snap.

"What possesses you to think you can come on private property and handle animals that don't belong to you? And when you get bitten or fall down or scratch yourself on our equipment, you probably expect us to cover your medical expenses, right?

"Get out. Get out now." (This last phrase has a subtle hint of Exorcist Voice. Watch my head spin as I say it.)

I'll try to keep it together, but will someone explain this phenomena to me? If you wouldn't let yourself into a stranger's home, why would you let yourself into a stranger's barn?

P.S. Snoopy enjoyed the visitors. They tasted like chicken.

You learn something new every day

2011-05-08T14:38:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I have "aha" moments. Sometimes they're more like, "D'Oh" moments.

This week was definitely worth a headslap.

Snoopy sees the chiropractor regularly. When you've got a leg with metal plates, a dozen screws, and a fused joint, you find yourself having to compensate for the things that leg no longer does with ease. And the other body parts you use start to show the strain of pulling double duty.

Since Snoopy's left hind leg is the repaired one, it's usually his hips that are out. Recently, Niki noticed his left leg taking a lot longer to warm up when she was lunging him. When Dr. Bari came out to adjust him, she found him out in his hips and his shoulders. He spent the next day relaxing after such a major tune-up.

Niki and I discussed it later: what had changed in his workout to suddenly cause him to be so sore and misaligned?

His riders.

For the past several months, Niki has been his principal trainer. Niki's focus when training him was to get him into frame* and keep him there. Once he was warmed up at the rail and holding himself correctly, she would take him over poles. Even when I had a lesson, she would spend a little time warming him up before I got on him.

Now that Niki is too pregnant to ride, Tina has taken over again. She is, of course, a good trainer. She has a different approach and a different agenda than Niki does, however. She warms Snoopy up both on the rail and over poles. As opposed to "helping" Snoopy hold himself up until he can do it on his own, she gives him plenty of rein to let him figure out his stride. There is nothing wrong with this, and together, Tina and Niki complement each other nicely.

When just one or the other is doing the training, the horse must re-adjust. For Snoopy, using his body differently means new parts are suddenly compensating for the bionic leg. This isn't necessarily bad for him - we just need to know and ease him into the differences instead of continuing to push for him to get with the new program.

So we're more on the lookout for the leg to look tired, Tina's going to go easier on his left side, and if he needs a little bute to get him through a day, that's okay, too.

He'll never be the same horse he was as a three-year old, but he loves to work and loves trail poles, so we're going to do what we can to keep him comfortable every day.

I'm just smacking my forehead that we didn't think of this earlier.

*For non-horse folks, being "in frame" is for a horse to hold themselves in a proper posture while they move. Think of it as the difference between the person who walks all slumped over and duck-footed, and the person with the straight spine, who lifts their rib cage and moves their legs and feet with forward momentum.

An ode to an old horse

2011-03-31T18:14:00.000-07:00

I'm hijacking Snoopy's blog today because of a blog I read yesterday. Laura Crum's "In Praise of Henry" at Equestrian Ink, is an ode to her 23-year old Quarter horse, ridden by her young son. Henry is one of those horses: world-wise, rock-steady, gentle-as-a-lamb. Actually, he sounds gentler than a lamb, since a lamb will still kick you as it struggles to escape being picked up, but of course, you'd never try to pick up a 1000-pound horse, and this metaphor is taking me off on a tangent...

At any rate, Henry has taught Laura's son to ride with both confidence and joy, something Laura wouldn't trade for anything, not even the $5,000 she paid for him when he was nineteen. Yeah. Five thousand at 19 - from her uncle.

Who said blood was thicker than water?

It made me think of a horse I bought for too much money, one that I've never discussed here. Several years ago, when Snoopy was a mere baby, I came to the ranch to do something - ride, teach, I don't remember, and a new horse had been hauled in. He was a big sorrel gelding named Call Me One. His barn name was Uno.

He was in the cross-ties, and Niki was grooming him. Now, I had known Niki for a few years, and she had always shown the same personality, of being friendly, but businesslike, and a little reserved. On that day, a Niki I'd never met before was currying this horse, so full of joy I thought she was going to sprout wings and fly.

Uno had been Niki's horse for awhile, back when she was a youth rider. He wasn't her first horse, but there was apparently something about him. I didn't ask her to describe it. I just watched it.

Uno was used at the ranch briefly, as a lesson horse, before Christine bought him and showed him for awhile. He was nothing flashy at any event, but he was a serviceable horse who would get you around at a show without worry. He could do pleasure, horsemanship, trail, and even a little hunt seat eq. They teased that his name was Uno because he only had one brain cell, but he was just a journeyman kind of horse. Tell him what to do and he did it.

Not that he didn't have his quirks. He was afraid of livestock, and once wouldn't come out of the roundpen because he could see the sheep in the front arena. He was also afraid of EZ-Ups, and would startle at them EVERY time he passed by one.

When Christine got too busy with her other show horses, she sold Uno to a couple, Dolph and Irene, who took turns taking lessons on him. I don't think they ever showed him, but they had plenty of fun with him. After a little bit (the years sift by so quickly I'm hesitant to say how long), Dolph went back to school and neither of them had enough time to give to Uno and they started looking for another owner.

Uno was 20 by now, and a little gimpy in his left front leg. We kept it wrapped, with a little medicated gel, and gave him isoxyprene and a dash of bute every day, just to keep him comfortable. I couldn't imagine who would want to buy him, especially at the price they were asking, which was $3,000.

I only knew two things: 1) he was a nice, agreeable, stead-eddy horse to ride, and 2) every time he came out of the barn, Niki lit up like a lighthouse beacon. What could I do?

I bought him. Tina thought I was crazy to pay that much for him. I don't know what Niki thought. I just knew that I'd make certain he lived to the end of his days here. For the next year, I had a great time riding him in lessons (he was the only horse Niki made me apologize to once, when I yanked too hard on his mouth), I used him as a lesson horse, and he got plenty of carrots and currying.

Uno was a fiend for the curry. The rubby-scratchy motion of the rubber nubs would make him stretch his neck into the next county, his lips pursing together like a happy camel. Nothing makes you feel better than making your horse feel that good.

Irene scratching Uno

After a little over a year, he started limping at the jog. Drugs, rest, and therapy didn't help. Dr. Pollard took x-rays, then came back a couple of weeks later to take more. They were showing what we suspected - he was foundering. Oddly enough, it was his heel that was sinking through the hoof, not the toe. The x-rays showed a significant change in only two weeks. Dr. Pollard gave me the bad news - Uno would have to be put down within the next month.

"I know you need time to process this," he said. "But I wouldn't wait too long."

It was a cool morning in July, just before we left for a week's vacation. Everyone told me how they never attended this event because it was too hard. Yes, it was hard. But I felt I owed Uno my presence.

I know some of you won't believe what I'm going to tell you next, but we've had the whole talk about magic in a previous post. Believe it or don't.

Dr. Pollard had just given Uno a tranquilizer, and was preparing THE SHOT. Our groom was holding Uno's lead rope; he was strong enough to guide Uno to the ground when everything took effect. I stood at the side, out of harm's way.

Uno turned his head toward me and looked at me. What I heard in my head was:"Sorry about the bum leg."

"It's okay," I whispered. "Just get back here to us."

You learn a lot from old horses.

Now we be havin' some fun

2011-02-14T21:30:00.000-08:00

We had such a good time at the Desert Hot Springs one-day show, we decided to try our luck at a bigger show. The Southern California Quarter Horse Exhibitor Association held their Show Me the Money show at the L.A. Equestrian Center in Burbank last weekend. It was four days of all the things Quarter horses can do - Western pleasure, English equitation, reining, driving, barrel racing, everything except working cows, probably only because cow rental can be expensive.

Snoopy and I limited ourselves to one event: trail. Our trainer, Niki, took him in Green Horse, and I rode him in Novice Amateur. Two classes on Thursday, two on Saturday. It was a lovely weekend.

I began showing by riding my other trainer Tina's champion, Copper Kist. Because I leased and didn't own him, I couldn't show AQHA, so I showed PCHA (Pacific Coast Horse Shows Association). They had about a gazillion classes that I was eligible for, and I showed in them all. Preliminary Trail, Adult/Amateur Trail, Basic Trail... I think I rode four classes each day, and they showed all four days of a weekend event. By the end I was exhausted from learning the trail patterns, much less riding them.

By contrast, learning one pattern and riding one class seems civilized. Snoopy tends to lack stamina, so two classes every other day still wears him out.

I know, I know, I can hear you all whining, "But how did you do?"

The first day we won 2nd and 3rd (the classes are double-judged) in Novice Amateur, and Snoopy and Niki got 4th and 7th in Green. The final day, we got 5th and 7th, and he and Niki got 3rd and 5th.

Each day, each course, had its own easy parts and rough parts, at least for me. The last day, I flubbed a trot-over by making him dive in too closely, but what I think cost us as much was that he was so tired, I was having to work to keep him moving. You never get style points when you make it look hard, and I don't think I was making it look easy.

It didn't matter, though. They were the most fun days, and the most fun courses, that I've ever done. I thought about what I was doing, and was able to communicate that to my big black gelding, more or less.

For those of you who've never seen a trail course, here's Snoopy being ridden by Niki in the first day's Green Horse Trail class. The audio portion of the video was mostly me laughing about something or other, so I muted that and added Hal Ketchum just for fun. If Mr. Ketchum doesn't want me to use his music, I'm happy to take it off. It was just such a perky accompaniment.

I only took this video for two reasons: 1) It's a new video camera and I love to play with my toys; and 2) Niki is four months pregnant here, and I wanted to show her that she doesn't look poofy at all. She barely has a vollyball sitting on her tummy.

So you want a horse of your own

2011-01-26T17:25:00.001-08:00

When I was little, I was horse crazy. I wanted to be around them, pet them, ride them, have one for my very own. We lived in the middle of Illinois in a sub-suburban neighborhood that wasn't zoned for horses. My parents didn't have much money, but none of those things were the reason I was never given the opportunity to know a horse.

My mother didn't want me around horses because she didn't like them, and thought I'd get hurt.

That made me just plain crazy. I would dream about horses, but I wasn't allowed to ride them in my own dreams. I'd wake up arguing with myself ("Gayle, you're having a dream. You can do anything you want.")

Do you know how weird that is?

Flash forward to today, when I own two horses and dream about riding them anytime I want. Life is glorious, unless it isn't.

I went to the ranch today to have a lesson on Snoopy. He was very quiet when I got him out of the stall. Didn't try to eat me. Didn't grab the halter while I tried to put it on. Walked at a respectable distance from me. In other words, he wasn't my horse.

After I groomed and saddled, then lightly lunged him, I met Niki as I led him back to the crossties. "What's wrong with my horse?" I asked her.

She took one look at him and said, "Ooo, he's got boogers."

I saw a big green mess dripping from his right nostril. "That wasn't there before."

"The lunging probably worked it up," she told me. "We'll take his temperature and watch him today."

The thermometer showed why he was being so quiet. One hundred three point eight. Normal for horses can vary between 99.5 and 101.5, so it's a little higher than humans, but 103.8 is definitely too hot. We put him back in his stall and called the vet.

Dr. Garloff came out an hour later and examined him. His temperature had risen to 104.1 by then, so she gave him a Banamine injection, drew blood for testing, and took a little nose snot for a culture. She left me with medication, instructions and a bill.

$484.50

Yes, you read it correctly. When a horse vet comes to call, it's not cheap. First of all, you pay for the call, since you can't always just throw your horse in a trailer and take it to the doctor. Then, the medications are not cheap because horses weigh 1,000 pounds and you have to use more drugs on them than, say, your pet chihuahua.

Finally, there's the testing. When I get a cold, I get some cough drops, Advil, and a decongestant. A horse cold is much more serious. It can be contagious and go through the barn. It can be something called strangles, which is a very bad virus. Snoopy has been vaccinated for strangles, but viruses are funny - you never know when one of them is going to morph into something that resists a vaccine. So the blood work and nose culture are needed to make certain it's just a cold.

So, Moms and Dads, when your horse crazy daughter (or son) comes to you wanting to be oh-so-near horses, please find a way to encourage their dreams, but think twice about horse ownership. Then do your homework on the actual cost and think one more time.*

*I love my horses and would never discourage responsible horse ownership.

P.S. By the way, Snoopy and I won our Novice Amateur Trail Class!

What fun!

2011-01-20T19:55:00.000-08:00

We're back from the horse show. Did you miss us?

Turns out, it was as low-key as Niki had described. There were three of us (from our barn) showing, Christine with her horse Bubba, Sue and Gracie, and me and the Snoop Dog.

We got our horses ready, then Niki schooled Snoopy and rode him in the Green Trail, after which I rode in Novice Amateur. For those of you who aren't sure what a trail competition looks like, we are given a piece of paper with the course drawn on it, like this:

The lines on the paper represent poles, except the wide "H" at the center bottom. That's a gate. In real life, a course looks a lot like this.

And this.

And at Del Mar, they look like this.

At home our poles are kind of beat up and everything's plain, although we do put potted plants and silk flowers around to teach our horses not to eat them. I can name more than one horse who's taken a nibble while stopped at the gate, and at least one mare that picked the whole bush up, pot and all. Guess she wanted take-out.

So anyway, how did we do?

Mostly okay. It was, by no means, that Disney-movie moment where we suddenly do everything perfectly. But we didn't suck as bad as we could have. The lines on the course where we loped or jogged, we did pretty well. I was worried about loping the wheel – it bites me every time. I get three good poles, then either dive into center on the last one, or miss it entirely. This time, we hit the same spot on each pole and kind of sailed around like we knew what we were doing.

It was the slow stuff that needs work. Our first obstacle was the gate. You pick up the rope in one hand, back your horse and then walk them through the gate, making a U-turn. Finally, you back them to the original post and re-hang the rope.

My problem with this is, I have short arms. This was not an issue with Frostie, because she is small and we can get close to the gate without having her feet hit the feet on the standards. Snoopy is large, so I have to find that place where his feet aren't going to take out the course but I can still reach the rope. We were super clumsy with it, and by "we" I mean "me."

During the backup, we had to back around a corner. Snoopy had done this about a dozen times, so when it was time to do it for the judge, he went, "Hey, I got this" and turned before I asked. I didn't know how much to correct him. Should I have walked him forward and asked again? I made a mental note to be quicker in my reactions when he gets anticipatory like that.

As we walked over the final poles, I thought I was aiming us over the "X". Turns out, I wasn't so much, but Snoopy saved our butts, good trail horse that he is.

I still don't know where we placed overall (the trail classes were open card), but I felt good about our performance. We didn't take any pictures because we were all too busy showing.

But Niki was very proud that I was able to put on my big girl chaps and do it.

Cross your fingers

2011-01-14T21:35:00.000-08:00

Snoopy and I are horse-show bound.

The last time I tried to show my big, black horse, he broke his left hind sesamoid bone two days before the show. It's Friday night, the show is Sunday, and so far we're still healthy.

The show is a one-day in Desert Hot Springs at the Willowbrook Riding Club. We'll haul in. Niki will show him in the green trail and I'll show him in novice amateur. Niki's been to these shows before and describes them as very low key, low stress. I'm trying to follow her lead.

But can I confess to a little stress? The last time I tried this, I literally broke my horse. In reality, I know there's a low probability of this happening again. In my head, however, anything's possible.

That Snoopy came back to soundness after the break is so wonderful, we consider him our miracle horse. For me to get into the arena with him, almost three years later, is amazing. I may be a little weepy on Sunday. I hope I can hold it in until after we complete the course.

That leaves the course. Niki says it won't be extremely difficult for the novice amateurs, and she is confident that I can move Snoopy around on it. I'm not certain if I can move him around and make it look pretty. I try to do things correctly, but in the show ring, I get hyper-focused on the course and getting it done, which throws pretty out the window. I'm also aware of the next person to go and hate taking too much time, so I rush everything.

There's a phrase singers and public speakers use: Don't bogart the mike. I have no idea where it came from, but it means not to hog the microphone and keep the other singers or speakers from their full turn.

On Sunday, I plan to take my time, take my full turn, and bogart the mike.

I was going to take a picture of Snoopy in the wash rack, getting ready for the big day, but I forgot. Instead, I'll leave you with this little ditty. It's worth the 7:21 minutes, trust me. And the horse reminds me of Snoopy during the carrot scene.

Enjoy.

A post-Christmas letter to Santa

2011-01-01T13:10:00.001-08:00

Dear Santa,

First of all, my son and I would like to thank you for the cookies and the candy canes. They are very crunchy, and I confess, I have a real sweet tooth for peppermint.

However, we must protest the other gifts you left for us. Snoopy does not care for his cribbing collar at all. Confidentially, it doesn't bother me. As a matter of fact, I think he still deserves a lump of coal in his stocking for that time when he was a few months old and chewed my tail hair off. Can you imagine? As it is, I don't have long, flowing, Flicka hair. I need every strand. Took a year to grow back. But I digress...

I do not know why you would put a stud chain in my stocking. I simply do not need one. Two-legged Mom puts one on me to walk on the hot-walker, but that's her problem, not mine. After you've been around the circle once, it's a boring trip. Well, okay, maybe twice... in each direction... after all, counter-clockwise is completely different scenery. Mom may have wanted a stud chain, but not me.

It's possibly my fault for not writing you a letter with my wish list (which would have included more food, including apples and carrots, a night light for my stall, and fresh bedding every day), but how do you expect me to hold a pencil?

I heard two-legged Mom say something about a TV series from long ago where a horse would use a pencil to call someone on the phone. Of course, he could talk, but I could use the pencil to type you a letter. I just have to get Mom to bring her laptop to the ranch.

You'll be hearing from me, Mr. Claus.

Frostie (and Snoopy)

P.S. Did our presents this year have anything to do with this? Just asking.

An eventful day: Snoopy writes in his diary

2010-12-05T10:15:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Today started out really good. I got up early to look for Raul, who brings me my hay. I waited forever, but he finally brought it. I was hungry so I ate it all. It was good. Then I looked out of my stall, but no one else was around. The other horses were still eating. I was bored.

It's easy for a guy to be bored in a stall. There's not much to look at. Not much to do. If I was in a big place with lots of horses, it would be more fun. When I was little, I remember being in a big place with two older guys, Tucker and Johnny. Before that, I had been in with Uncle Snowy. And even before that, I was with Mom.

The bigger place was fun to run around. I like to run around. I like to look at things and bite them to see what they are. Sometimes I pick them up and throw them. Johnny and Tucker wouldn't let me bite them. Neither would Uncle Snowy. Mom wasn't crazy about it either.

Once, I got in with the goats. They were fun to bite. I could pick them up by the tail, but I couldn't throw them very far. They complained, so the man took me back to my own pen.

Now Two-Legged Mom says I'm a big boy and have to be in a stall. I like her, even if she won't let me bite her, but I'm bored in the stall. Once I had to be in my stall for a long time. My leg kinda hurt. They took me to a place where I laid down to sleep and woke up with something heavy on my foot. It was there forever, then they took me back to the place and took it off forever, then I went back to my stall and stayed forever.

At least, I thought it was all forever. I was really bored in my stall. I found out, if I bite something and swallow, it makes my brain all floaty and my body gets tingly. It was fun. I started doing it all the time. If I was going to be in my stall forever, I might as well have fun.

Today, after I ate, I bit the stall door and swallowed. It felt good. I did it again. Again and again and again and again and then Auntie Niki came to my stall and said, "Knock it off, horse. The cribbing is driving me nuts."

But I don't know what that meant, so I just kept biting and swallowing and feeling good about it. Auntie Niki got me out of my stall and let me run around in the little pen. I love to run and jump. She took me to the Wet Standing Place and sprayed water on me, then took me to the Dirt Standing Place and made me stand there forever.

At least, I thought it was forever, but she took me back to my stall. There was nothing to do, so I started biting and swallowing again.

Two-Legged Mom came. I nickered, "Hello."

"Santa got you an early present, Snoop Dog," she said.

I don't know who this Santa is, or what a present is, or even what early means. Mostly, I heard, "Blah, blah, blah, Snoop Dog." But I love it when she talks to me.

She and Auntie Niki came into my stall. Auntie Niki put something on my neck and talked to Two-Legged Mom. She said, "Blah, blah, blah, his throatlatch, blah-blah, blah."

When they left my stall, there was still something on my neck. It was hard, but didn't hurt. I bit my stall door and tried to swallow.

I couldn't! I couldn't swallow and make my head floaty! It must be the thing on my neck. I licked the stall door, but it wasn't the same. I pouted forever, until dinner came. Then I ate.

This Santa must be a very bad person to make me stop biting and swallowing. I mean, I love Auntie Niki and Two-Legged Mom, but WTF?

He's a good boy, he is

2010-11-28T12:45:00.000-08:00

On my other blog, I posted our annual Christmas picture for people to choose. This year, we actually got more than one useable shot. If you haven't voted, travel on over there and help me select a good picture to go with the Christmas letter.

In and around the good photos, we had a bunch of hmm, not so useable pix. Usually these are because Snoopy has had enough posing and wants to sniff the cat or eat Marcus' hair or something. I'm posting these outtakes to show you it's not always his fault.

Training day

2010-11-12T21:15:00.000-08:00

Forgive me for not posting in awhile, but there hasn't been much to post about. Snoopy is as right as rain these days, thanks to monthly visits from the horsey chiropractor. Yes, we have chiropractors for our horses, as well as acupuncturists, and possibly even aromatherapists.

"Take a deep breath, Mr. Investment. The apple-carrot-molasses mixture should bring a feeling of - Mr. Investment! Please stop eating the potpourri!"

My trainers, Niki and Tina, have been riding him, although it's been mostly Niki. Tina is the owner of the ranch, and not only is she up to her ears in the daily ranch upkeep AND the dog boarding/training business she runs to help pay the mortgage, her grandson is struggling with aplastic anemia and she has to dash to the hospital, or pick up his older brother, at a moment's notice. She's not a praying woman, but I don't think she minds if you want to toss a request God's way to get little Grant back to good health. His blood transfusions are not holding. I get the impression that the next thing on the list is to go for the bone marrow transplant. He's only four, for Pete's sake. He needs a break.

But I digress...

So Niki's been riding Snoopy and everyone is asking me when I'm going to get back into regular training, and I keep saying, "Next week, I hope." Except when Next Week arrives, it's too hot out or too rainy or I'm too exhausted and I don't get on him.

And then there's this other 'thing'. When Snoopy started to get better, I had this mental picture of getting on him, practicing over a few trail poles and wham! going off to the horse show. That's not what happened.

When I got back on him to train, things had changed. I used to walk him into a box (four poles on the ground, laid perpendicular, to make a box), stop, then turn him around and walk out. Nowadays, you walk your horse into the box and KEEP WALKING as he turns around. This turns out to be a lot harder than it sounds, and it already sounds pretty hard.

I also have to hold my reins differently, looser, with my thumb up instead of down.

Oh, and I have to close my spurs** on him to stop, instead of just saying, "Ho." (No, we don't say Whoa. Try it. "Whoa" is more lip movement. "Ho" just slides outa your mouth.) And then there's the spur backup. I keep my spurs on him to back him up, instead of raising my reins and saying, "Back."

Suddenly, I didn't know how to ride anymore. Suddenly, he wasn't even my horse anymore. He had all these cues that I didn't know. It made me frustrated, upset, and even angry. I wanted to hit something, but I didn't.

I had a meltdown. I told Niki how much I hated it all. I told her I didn't want to ride him anymore. I even said I'd rather sell him than try to back him off my spurs again. There were a few tears.

Niki calmly replied that she didn't want me to be upset about all this. She had me accompany her to the arena, where she got on Snoopy and explained what she was doing and why. Using the spurs was to keep Snoopy's head from lifting, which is what happens when you use the reins. I could still say "Ho". I didn't have to push him hard with the spurs, just turn my toes out and press him lightly. He still moves forward off the spurs if he's already moving forward; he just backs if he's stopped. She showed me how it all worked. She tried to make me feel better.

I was skeptical, but not as upset.

This week, I had two lessons on Snoop. I tried out what she said about the spurs, and added a vocal command of "clucking" to the back, which made me feel better. The first lesson went really well. We didn't do a lot of poles, but we did circles, stopping, backing, jogging and loping. He was very responsive and I had a great ride. There were no tears, either.

I thought, since I had a great first lesson, my second lesson would go badly. It didn't. I did a lot more poles this time. Niki showed me how to push him across the pole at the jog, which kept my tush in the saddle. I learned to kiss to him as he loped poles and felt his response. It was another great ride, another good lesson.

It's now looking more possible to me that I'll be able to show him one day soon. When I do, there'll be PLENTY of pictures to post.

**A note about spurs: If you don't ride horses, spurs sound like big, pointy instruments of torture. None of our spurs are sharply pointed. We would never use anything on our horses that would harm them. Some of our horses are very ticklish; put your leg on them and they go. Other horses are not ticklish at all; put your leg on them and they just don't feel you. A spur at this point is like taking a finger and poking them. Snoopy is one of those horses.

It's an honor to be nominated

2010-06-22T18:04:00.000-07:00

I won! I won!

Without even competing...

So, here's what happened: I lurk on a lot of blogs, and I frequently add my two-cents to the mixture when there's an interesting topic. I was lurking on the Professional's Choice blog and saw a few entries that were just begging for my comments. Of course, I was happy to oblige.

As it turns out, they were having a contest to give away free stuff to some lucky commentor, and they pulled my name out of their cyber-hat. I won a pair of leather protective boots.

Here's Snoopy modeling my prize.

They're so pretty, and so much nicer (and more expensive) than the ones I usually purchase, I'm tempted to only use them for special occasions, like, maybe the Christmas Day lunge. But I won't - I'll use them all the time.

Thanks, Professional's Choice!!

He's finally back in the game!

2010-06-12T19:33:00.001-07:00

Snoopy was back in Burbank this weekend at the Lights! Camera! Action! Horse Show, held by Track One Events. This time, Tina rode him in the AQHA Green Trail. The class started at 7 a.m. both Thursday and Saturday. I live in Orange County, which is about 50 miles from Burbank, so I had to get up at Oh-My-God-Thirty to get to the Equestrian Center.

I missed Thursday's go by about 15 minutes due to traffic. Snoopy was back at his stall being unsaddled when I walked around the corner.

"Do you know what your horse did?" Tina asked.

Knowing Snoopy, I couldn't say.

"He knocked over the wheely cart."

The "wheely cart" is a three-tiered metal cart that holds our brushes, sprays, bell boots, etc. Apparently, Snoopy had gone out of his way to make contact with the cart and send everything flying into the barn aisle. The good news, if you can call it that, is the racket and rocketing equipment didn't scare him. He looked over the mess and pronounced it good.

I was only surprised that Tina was so surprised by this. She knows what kind of goofball he is.

"I moved it away from him," she protested.

Not far enough, Tina. Not far enough.

Most horses are tied to their stalls with their lead ropes. Not Snoopy. He gets a chain, because he gnaws through rope.

We called him our "junkyard dog".

As for the class, he showed well on Thursday. So well, that he got a FIRST and THIRD! That's right. After spending several hundred dollars on the show, I got a $10 iTunes card.

On Saturday, he tried really hard, but Tina misread the course and took him over a pole he wasn't supposed to take, which caused him to break from the lope. You could tell he wanted to figure out how to do it correctly, but it was still just ugly. Tina was still kicking herself after the class, but sometimes things like that happen. The poles were set up like a wheel and she just got it into her head to take all of them.

He was a little tired, too, so his trot-overs were a little clunky, but I was still proud of him. Tina says I need to show him in the next show, which will either be in Temecula in July (can you say, "dress rehearsal for Hell?") or back in Burbank in August.

Stay tuned!

Back on schedule, two years late.

2010-05-05T13:26:00.001-07:00

Snoopy and I went to the Hollywood Charity horse show last weekend!

It was his first show in two years, and although he didn't show, he hung out and behaved like a gentleman. Well, mostly. The first day, he screamed a lot and wanted to jump out of his stall to go – I don't know, somewhere ELSE, I guess. After he'd been out for a lunge, he settled down and enjoyed his stay, except for calling out to any of his friends when they left or returned.

While he hung out, I was a working gal. There were three horses from our barn to be shown in various events. One of the owners could only be there two of the five days, one of the owners is physically limited as to what she can do, and one of the owners is a child with lovely but inexperienced parents to help. Our trainer, Tina, couldn't be at the show due to a family health crisis, which left the whole show to the other trainer, Niki. She's good, but it's hard to get three horses plus clients ready for classes that are back-to-back.

For those of you who haven't been to a show like the Hollywood Charity, certain western events require a lot of bling on really pretty horses. Here's Snoopy as an example:

For this picture (and to be shown), Snoopy was first "trimmed." His muzzle hairs were shorn, as well as the hair inside his ears, the long lashes under his eyes, and the hair around his feet. This makes the horse's outline look really clean to the judges. Next, although you can't see it, his mane was banded. This is a process of putting little ponytails all the way down his mane, which is then cut to about 2-3 inches in length. It makes the mane lay very straight and quiet, adding to the clean outline. Because Snoopy doesn't have much of a tail, he's wearing a fake tail here. Don't laugh – lots of horses wear them. It adds to the balance of the look.

Now just stick on a colorful saddle pad, and a saddle and bridle with lots of silver, and voila!

What do riders wear? Something like this:

This is a showmanship outfit, but you get the idea. Lots of sequins and rhinestones, like you've been attacked by a Bedazzler. Every time I dress up like this, I feel like visiting a karaoke bar to sing a few Patsy Cline numbers.

On show days, you clean each horse off with a damp rag, spray a conditioner on them to make them shiny, wash their face, including their nostrils and ears, and usually paint their hooves black with a fingernail polish-like substance. For a little extra shine, a dollop of baby oil on their muzzles makes them look fresh and dewy. Seriously.

So I helped Niki get the horses out, made certain they were shiny, brushed their tails, added the fake ones, got them saddled and out to the arena with their riders. After the rides, I helped unsaddle, rinsed off sweat, washed tails (fake and real), and put them in their jammies.

Jammies?

When we're at a show, we want the horses to stay as clean as possible and not rub the rubber bands out of their manes. So we have stretchy hoods to protect their manes, sheets to keep their coats clean, and bags for their tails (we braid the hair).

After all this was done each day, Niki and I would get Snoopy out and work him. One of us would lunge him, then she'd ride, and then she'd give me a lesson. Lessons during a horse show are interesting – you're trying to ride in the same warm-up arena with a bunch of competitors and everyone's trying to stay out of everyone's way.

The first day, only Niki rode him. The warm-up arenas were stuffed to the brim with reiners, so you really needed Advanced Steering. It's like riding among dive bombers. Out of control dive bombers.

The next day, I got to lesson during the English classes, so I was weaving in and out of big, long-legged horses and riders, all decked out for Hunter Under Saddle classes. Thrown into the mix was a small child who couldn't steer on a very patient horse. Niiiicccee.

Niki and I were alone in the warm-up pen on Saturday, mostly because it was time for the evening extravaganza, and everyone else was in the main Equidome. It was a fun lesson. Each time he was out, Snoopy was completely relaxed and seemed happy to be at work.

I'm not sure when our next show is, but I'm hoping that at least he can be shown by either Niki or Tina in the Green Trail Horse class (a class for horses with less than 10 points in trail). If I can get my lesson schedule more consistent, maybe I can go out in a Novice class with him.

Fun!

Short but sweet.

2010-04-22T14:16:00.000-07:00

This is a quick post, because all I really have to say is,

"lookLoOKLOOK!"

Uh-huh, that's right. I'm riding my horse. The black one. The broken one. I've had two rides on him now, under Niki's very watchful eye and he feels so good.

And tall. He feels really tall. I'm used to riding his mom, who is 15 hands when she has new shoes and stands up very straight. Snoopy is a solid 15.3, which means he's taller than I am.

He feels different than Frostie, too. Her jog (trot for you English riders) is very smooth, but mostly because she likes to shuffle her feet. His jog is very bouncy in a rhythmic way. You're on one of those slo-motion trampolines like you dream about, where you go way-far-up, then way-far-down, without the jolt of actually hitting top or bottom.

It's okay if you don't get it - I've tried to describe it to Tina and she doesn't get it either.

Their lopes (canters) have the same difference. They both give you the rocking horse feel, but Frostie's got a very sittable, shuffling lope; her son's lope is all slow legs and long hang time. Both feel good, neither feels the same.

Snoopy's left lead has always been his weakest. This is actually good, since my right leg is stronger and I can help him more with his left side. His injury has made him use his hip a little more than before, to compensate for a lack of flexibility in the ankle, which feels very pronounced on the left lead. As I loped him down the arena, I was aware of my seat shifting every four or five strides. It could have been due to riding in Niki's saddle, but it's definitely something I must fight against.

My next post will be in about a week or so - when I tell you all how the horse show went! Yes, Snoopy is going to his first horse show since the accident. Granted, he's not going in any classes, but he is going to travel to Burbank, hang out at the show, and be ridden in the warm-up trail. If you're in the area next weekend (April 28 - May 2), come on out to the L.A. Equestrian Center for the Hollywood Charity Horse Show and look me up.

Do you believe in magic?

2010-04-12T09:58:00.000-07:00

Even though this is Snoopy's blog, today's story is about his mom, Frostie. Frostie is the first horse I ever owned. I bought her when she was three, ten years ago. This is her:

Her AQHA registered name is One Zip in Time, so named because her grandfather's name is Zippo Pine Bar, a rather famous guy in the Quarter horse world. She is registered as a chestnut, although most people would describe her as a roan. Actually, I recently learned she is rabicano.

Frostie is very friendly and sweet-natured. Her manners are impeccable; she leads quietly, doesn't crowd, lifts her feet for cleaning with ease, stands still for grooming, clipping, saddling. But don't be fooled. There's a reason I call her the WRM (Wild Red Mare).

She's spooky. If a trash can has been moved, she snorts at it. If one of the guys is on a ladder, she won't walk by him. And if it's a windy day (which is often in southern California), forget it. Every tree that moves, every flower that waves, is going to jump out and eat her. We often tease that she sees dead people because there's nothing for her to spook at and yet, off she goes.

In the old days, she'd run across the arena with me before I managed to stop her. Now I've learned to check her with the reins and push her forward with my legs and she puts her head down and obeys me. But I still hate that feeling of her body tensing, the way her ears cock forward and her head snakes sideways, just before she tries to plant, wheel, and scamper.

Last year, one of the trainers, Barbara Pinella, at the ranch invited an animal communicator to come and talk to some of her clients' horses. She opened the offer to the rest of us once her clients were finished, so I thought, what the heck.

I listened to her discussions with the Thoroughbreds and Warmbloods in Barbara's barn. They liked jumping, some wondered why they weren't getting Christmas stockings anymore, others wondered where their stable mate went, etc. In other words, it was all about their life in the here and now.

Then it was Frostie's turn. I was feeding her some watermelon while the communicator walked into the stall and she told me Frostie liked it (well, duh, she was gobbling it up), and that she really liked the fruit salad I fed her once. That piqued my interest, since I remembered feeding her fruit salad exactly one time, at a horse show.

Once she started talking to her in earnest, things changed.

"She wants you to know she had a very bad mother and her early life was horrible."

Great. Everyone else got "I like carrots" and I get Charles Dickens.

She went on: "Her mother hated humans and told her they would be mean to her. So when they came to wean her or train her, she resisted and they were mean, thus fulfilling her mother's prophecy. She says she chose you because she knew you in a previous life. You sold bread from a cart in Europe, and she pulled the cart. Pulling a cart was very hard on her feet, and now she's always worried about and sensitive to any foot pain."

This part was interesting because we tease about her shoeing experience, that she's such a girly girl, her shoes never fit as well as they did in the store. Monte (our farrier) will shoe her, she'll walk away fine, then two hours later she'll be three-legged lame because a nail is too tight.

Then the communicator surprised me: "She says she'll give you a baby if you want one."

"She already gave me one," I told her. "Snoopy."

The communicator looked confused. "Let me ask her."

After a moment, she got a funny look on her face and said, "Oh." Turning to me, she explained. "Frostie's glad you like that horse, but it's not the baby she meant to give you. He's not an old soul, he's kind of a simpleton, and she wanted you to have a baby that was more like her, only better."

I said, "She was a very good mother."

"Yes, she said she tried to be a good mother, because her mother was so awful. But he's a little disappointing to her."

"Well, tell her we love him. He's a great show horse." I didn't tell the communicator, but Frostie's assessment is correct. Snoopy is a mouthy, smothering guy on the ground, and a dream to ride, but he's no equine Einstein. I'd equate him to the stereotypical high school jock - excellent in his sport, but don't ask him to do higher math.

She talked about some other things, and Frostie promised to try to trust me more, even when things scared her. I'd say she's gotten better at trying, although she still lets her nerves get the best of her.

For those of you who read this and think, pfft, animal communicators, let's just say I'm pretty open to the possibilities of life. First, I don't possess the hubris that says the only reality is the one humans can experience through their senses, that there are no colors we can't see, sounds we can't hear, etc. Second, I'm the kind of gal who wants to believe in magic. I think you either are or you aren't, and there's no penalty in being one or the other.

Besides, if I didn't believe in magic, I wouldn't have had the faith that Snoopy would recover from his injury, and I wouldn't be able to tell you that after almost two years, I will start training on him again, probably this week, and may even send him to a show at the end of the month.

Is there anything you've needed magic/faith/something extra for, to get you through life?

And the rains came

2010-02-21T09:16:00.000-08:00

This post is a little late, since most of our El Nino storms are (hopefully) past us. We were supposed to get one this weekend, but it seems to be stalling and giving us less of a spanking and more of a few gentle swats.

The horses at my trainer's ranch (The Silver Rose Ranch) are mostly show horses, which means they mostly hang out in box stalls. Comfortable, roomy, but stalls nonetheless. So when torrential rains hit, we cannot get them out without worrying. The ground is slippery and some of them come out of their box stall with too much energy to walk quietly. During the last downpour, I went to the ranch, hoping to get Frostie out and at least hand-walk her around to let her stretch her legs. By the time I got from my car to the barn (a short walk!), the skies had opened up again and were dumping water on us.

"But she's been in her stall for two days now," I told Tina. "She's going to be spinning in there soon."

"She'll just have to spin," Tina said. "They all will, until we can get them out safely."

Two days later, the rain had gone and the roundpen was just dry enough to let them run amok. This is what Frostie did:

It was the best shot I could get - the others were too blurred. I like to refer to this as her "Arab mode" - tail up, neck arched, careening around the pen as she snorts.

Snoopy, fortunately, is in a large pipe stall and, although the rain might beat in at the edges, he stays relatively dry and gets more room to roam, as well as a bird's-eye view of his world. Two days later, this is what he did:

Yes, that's Tina on him. Niki has been sidelined briefly, while she had a little surgery. I won't go into detail, since I don't know how much detail she'd like to have floating around on the Internet, but let's just say she had the equivalent of a C-section, but didn't bring home any bundle of joy as a reward (or are they a punishment). So Tina has taken the horse training back for a while, in addition to all her dog training services. We all help out, so everything gets done, but she'll be very happy when Niki can ride again!

Like I've said before, under saddle, he's a dream horse. While I was getting him ready for Tina, he still wanted to eat me.

Better than checking his forehead...

2009-12-06T08:52:00.000-08:00

We always know how Snoopy is feeling by how interested he is in putting everything in his mouth. The chiropractor, Dr. Bari, has pronounced him ADD, and I can't dispute this. Under saddle, he rides like a dream. On the ground, he wants to know what the broom handle tastes like. Or the reins. Or your shirt. No amount of spanking deters him; he always comes back for more.

So when we took our annual Christmas picture this week, we went through several shots of this:

To get to this:

I guess Snoopy's feeling pretty good these days.

P.S. Thanks, Niki, for taking all the pictures!

The leg moves forward

2009-11-29T22:18:00.000-08:00

Here are just a few shots to show Snoopy loping and jogging over poles. Even though he doesn't have a lot of flexibility in that foot (back one with white sock), he is moving it underneath himself much better. He still uses his hip to get the foot over poles; Niki says that movement may never quite go away. After all, they fused one of the joints, so full flexibility's not in the cards.

His stamina needs to be built up, too. Niki thinks that if he keeps progressing, we can probably take him to a show sometime in the spring. They've been having a lot of one-day shows nearby (if you consider Palm Desert nearby), so I'm hoping one of those comes along when it's time.

In the meantime, isn't he a pretty boy?

We're soooo happy!

2009-10-27T20:56:00.000-07:00

The good news is, Snoopy continues to get better every day. The bad news is, he's getting so much better I've had to put him back into full training. Can you say, "Ka-Ching"?

Niki is walking, jogging and loping him, in the big arena. Today, she jogged him over a pole, twice. It was on the ground and he was going in a straight line, but still, it's so much more than we thought would happen last year at this time.

Also, today, I got to get on him (after Niki) and walk him once around the arena. Even after his workout, the leg felt pretty sturdy. I notice he still wants to drag the toe a bit more than the other hind foot, but the leg moves in a straight line, he's advancing it further under himself, and he places the foot, as opposed to tossing it toward the ground.

All good!!!

We're in the big arena now

2009-09-30T22:18:00.001-07:00

Snoopy is continuing to progress, so much that Niki tack-walks him at least one day every week in the large arena.

We've also moved him from the paddock on the hill, down to a pipe corral by the arena, for two reasons. One is to re-introduce him to the concept of a smaller living space and more workouts per week. The other is because he began to lose a little weight and we wanted to bulk him up and keep an eye on his eating habits.

He gets two alfalfa flakes twice a day, plus a couple of buckets of alfalfa cubes. In addition, he gets a little corn oil to shine his coat, which is dry, flaky, and sparse.

Within a week, he's already looking a little plumper, with thicker hair.

It's not a lot, but we'll take it. Life's good.

We can only guess it's forward...

2009-08-09T09:14:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry to not post here more often, but I've decided that rehab is like watching a baseball game where both pitchers are throwing a no-hitter: slow as hell and not as exciting to the crowds as to those guys on the mounds.

Niki and I think Snoopy is making progress. Why? Because he's not getting any worse. He's being lunged 3-4 days a week, which is rebuilding his stamina as well as his leg, and Niki is tack-walking him one of those days. The first riding session, she rode him for about 5 laps and his leg started to feel spongy (not as supportive) for the last 1/2 lap. The second time, the leg still felt sturdy after 5 laps, so she dismounted and called it success. The third time, the leg still felt sturdy, so she trotted him a few paces, just to see if he feels under saddle like he looks from the ground.

He does, but he wasn't extra sore the next day when he was lunging (light trotting only).

We're calling this progress. Our philosophy is, if Tuesday, he doesn't limp for 1/2 lap, and on Thursday, he doesn't limp for 3/4 lap, it's progress. To get him limp-free will take as long as it takes.

In the meantime, once Niki feels confident in his ability to be quiet at the walk (so far he has been), she's going to tack-walk him in the big arena, where he can walk in a straight line instead of constantly curving right or left. I hope to be there, to provide pictures!

More progress!

2009-07-23T21:44:00.000-07:00

I cleaned my house rather thoroughly last week. So thoroughly that I cannot find my camera. Why is this important?

Because, on Wednesday, Niki rode Snoopy for the first time since he broke his leg, and all I have to show for it is these pix I took with my cell phone:

She lunged him a bit before climbing on, then walked him for about five laps before he started seriously dragging his leg. According to Niki, "He didn't buck and he didn't collapse under my weight, so I consider it a success."

More progress! Yippee!

2009-06-13T22:10:00.001-07:00

Here's another quick update of Snoopy's progress:

For the past two weeks, he's been lunged with the saddle on. At first, he had a definite hump in his back, and there were a couple of aerials while he remembered the feeling of leather cuddling his withers. He eventually settle down, and is being trotted and loped, both directions, for about 10-15 minutes twice a week.

This past Thursday, Niki called me from the ranch. She was very excited.

"I just lunged Snoopy, and for the first time, I had to look carefully to see which leg was lame," she told me. "He was actually using the whole leg at the trot, instead of hiking it up."

Good news, peeps! We could be back on the road to this again!

Isn't he gorgeous? And smart.

We chillin' now.

2009-05-26T09:55:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to give everyone a quick update on how Snoopy is doing.

Niki's been lunging him twice a week for a couple of weeks now, trotting each way for 5 minutes. Typically, he wants to lope a little first, but so far, he hasn't wanted to go crazy, so Niki lets him settle into the trot. A couple of things of note:

1. He has no stamina, so 10 minutes of trotting exhausts him.

2. Even though he's still lame, I can see that it's less about pain and more about muscle build-up. His leg and hip muscles look noticeably smaller on the left (injured) side than his right, and he tends to fling his foot at the ground instead of placing it.

When he's not being lunged, he's in a large paddock on a hill, which forces him to use his muscles, traveling down to his food, up to the gate, and midway to his water. The other day, he trotted up the hill to see me and he didn't look lame at all! Of course, his walk down the hill told another story...

I'm very heartened by his progress. I had no idea how tense I was until I went to San Marcos. Now it feels like there's a muscle in my stomach that suddenly relaxed.

Baby steps forward

2009-05-13T17:34:00.000-07:00

When I told Dr. Murphy (Brigid) what the good doctors in San Marcos had to say, her first response was an inward gasp, followed by, "We're not going to just put him in Tina's pasture, right? We're going to use bell boots and wraps and protective measures, right?" If she hadn't been a vet, Brigid would have made a perfect OSHA inspector. Always thinking Safety First.

Since Tina's pasture is home to several sheep, I'd never put Snoopy there. One of his favorite games when he was young was to break into the goats' pen and chase them around. When he caught them, he'd pick them up by the tail and throw them. And he always caught them. The thought of him playing ring toss with the sheep, while funny, was asking for trouble. Probably.

Tina and I discussed a couple of options. The most viable one seemed to be to put him in one of the small pipe corrals on the hillside:

The incline of the ground would force Snoopy to utilize his foot and strengthen his muscles. Thinking that Snoopy might feel a little too good in such a large area, we listened to Brigid's concerns and decided to put him in a pipe stall that's a little bigger than what he's in now, but smaller than the corral.

But, first, a longe. Niki was supposed to trot him for 5 minutes each direction, on the longe line. Snoopy had other ideas, and wanted to lope. They split the difference - Niki loped Snoopy both ways for 3 minutes on the line.

Once in the larger stall, Snoopy was very quiet until he thought it should be time to go home to his "real" stall, then he started pacing and running and charging the gate. He should calm down this evening, when he figures it all out. And once he truly calms down, we can start to ride him at the walk.

This weekend, I dreamed I rode Snoopy in a horse show. We won first place in horsemanship, and were preparing to go into the trail course. It's the first time I've dreamed of being on him since he broke his leg.

A date with the doctor

2009-05-07T08:21:00.000-07:00

We did it! We went to see Dr. Martinelli, and his cast of thousands.

As hard as it seemed to do two weeks ago, it was much easier today. Of course, it wasn't cheap. Tina is on vacation this week and Christine is taking care of the horses and the dogs; these are my two go-to gals when I need Snoopy to be hauled anywhere. Unfortunately, the ultrasound specialist, Dr. Rantanen, was only available today, so I had to call a professional horse transport.

Enter Chuck and Stacey of Chuck Erb Horse Transport. Chuck's name is actually much longer than "Erb" – it's got about 25 letters – so he just uses the first three. We arranged for pickup at 11:30, to be down at Dr. Martinelli's by 2 pm.

Before we left, I decided to groom Snoopy a little so he'd look nice for the doctor. As usual, Snoopy wanted to bite my shirt, play with the brush and generally invade my space. We spent five minutes working on our tough-love relationship. I'd curry him and he'd stretch his neck out to enjoy it, then he'd turn and try to nip my shirt and I'd smack his nose.

When Chuck arrived, I warned him that a) Snoopy is a land shark, and b) he might be a little high-spirited. Snoopy proved me wrong by walking quietly out to the street, to Chuck's enormous vehicle. It was like a horsie limo – it cost about as much, too. Chuck was, however, a really nice man, and very good with Snoopy.

So I followed Chuck and Snoopy from beautiful Chino Hills,

To beautiful San Marcos.

This is the route we took.

When we finally got to the Twin Oaks Farm, Dr. Martinelli's intern, Dr. Walker met me. She immediately had men to take Snoopy to a stall and unwrap his leg (we had put a standing wrap on it for shipment), gave me paperwork to fill out, and then escorted me to the office to meet with the other doctors. Talk about efficiency!

Let me just say that I loved, loved, LOVED Doctors Martinelli, Rantanen, and Walker. They put me at ease, and spoke to me like we were all people trying to figure things out, and not like a team of gods answering the tiresome questions of a mortal.

We began by reviewing Snoopy's x-rays. They all agreed that Dr. Fischer had done a really good job and that the bones had properly fused.

Next, we went outside to watch Snoopy trot.

"Wow, he's really lame," Dr. Martinelli said.

As Gibbs would say to DiNozzo on NCIS, "Ya think?"

Dr. Walker then administered a little cocktail to sedate Snoopy so he wouldn't kick Dr. Rantanen during the ultrasound. My big black horse was in dreamland within moments.

I watched over Dr. Rantanen's shoulder while he slid the sensor over Snoopy's fetlock and pastern. At first, the screen reminded me of my first ultrasound of my son when I was pregnant. Then a bizarre shape took form in the graininess.

"See that?" he said. "Looks like an alien."

"So that's what's wrong with Snoopy," I told him. "He's got an alien infection."

Dr. Rantanen took a series of snapshots of the foot with weight on it and weight off it. He followed the suspensory ligaments from one insertion point to the next. While I watched, Dr. Martinelli began to talk to me about bone scans as another diagnostic tool in our search for Snoopy's lameness. As he talked, I thought I saw the dollar bills floating, out of my wallet and into the walls of the barn.

Between the x-rays and the ultrasound, I waited for those magic words: "Aha! There's the problem." But they never came. Dr. Rantanen kept saying that he saw no problems with Snoopy's ligaments. He showed me the pictures he'd taken and explained what he was seeing in each one to prove his point. Quite frankly, I had to just believe him. I mean, he could have pointed to a dark spot and said, "See that? It's Swine flu." Who was I to argue?

In a nutshell (and completely paraphrased for the medical-terms-impaired), this is what Dr. Martinelli told me:

"Dr. Rantanen can't find any soft tissue damage, so there's no need to do shock wave or stem cell treatment. His x-rays show that the bones are fused properly. So basically, there's nothing wrong with him, except that he's lame.

"I think, although radialogically, he's fused, functionally, he hasn't. He just still hurts from the initial injury and surgery. I won't give you a 100% guarantee that he'll end up completely sound, but I think right now it's still too soon to tell.

"In the meantime, I think you should take the kid gloves off and let him be a horse. Turn him out, don't worry if he runs around and kicks up his heels. If he's quiet enough, ride him at the walk. Just don't let him do any reining slides again."

What he said made sense to me when I equate it to human injury. I've never broken anything, but after my C-section, there was a loooonnnnggg period of time where I could not do situps because there was a range of motion where I just couldn't feel my stomach muscles. In addition to the fracture, Snoopy has had an incision to install plates and screws. The bone has to be traumatized by the foreign objects. When you toss in the blood vessels, muscle, nerves, etc that needed to be cut or moved around to get to the bone, why wouldn't he still have some soreness at the trot?

So the good news is there's nothing wrong with my horse. The bad news is that he's still lame. The better news is that I can relax and let him have a little fun.

Oh, and BTW, Snoopy was a complete gentleman at Twin Oaks and never tried to eat any of the doctors or attendants, which Dr. Martinelli teased me about constantly. "Oh, watch out, he's gonna chew on you," he'd tell the helper as Snoopy laid his sleepy nose in the crook of the guy's arm. Isn't that just like a kid?

A new day, a new tactic

2009-05-03T12:56:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday, Dr. Martinelli emailed me, after I had emailed him.

"Hi Gayle,
Dr. Rantanen will not be available this week, but should be next Wed May 6. He will confirm with me this week, but you may look into transportation options for mid-day on May 6th and let me know."

We didn't mention the whole snafu of the previous week. At this point, I decided to let it go and move forward. I also decided to take a different approach with this visit. I've emailed Dr. Martinelli to tell him we will be there around 2 p.m. on Wednesday and to contact me ASAP if this is not feasible. I'll also call him tomorrow to leave the same message on his voicemail. I've contracted Stacy and Chuck again to carry Snoopy down to San Marcos, so all I need at this point is to go buy a fat, quilted standing wrap for his leg.

I'm so hoping it happens this time.

In the meanwhile, we've moved Snoopy to a larger, outdoor pipe stall, to allow him to walk around more and get more stimulation. Here he is in his new digs:

He's really liking it here. It overlooks the round pen, so he can watch the other horses (I suspect he runs vicariously through them), there are goats and deer in the neighbor's pasture to look at, and he has a neighbor two stalls over. Her name is Rose. We can't put him next to a horse at this point because he wants to play with them, so there are too many aerials and squealing to be safe.

I'm still not sure what will happen on Wednesday. Will the doctors find anything useful? Anything treatable? Will he have to stay down there for therapy?

Stay tuned for our next installment of That's My Snoopy!

The wait goes on

2009-04-23T10:13:00.001-07:00

I know you were all just breathless with anticipation about Snoopy's visit to Dr. Martinelli this week. Let me relieve your suspense: it didn't happen.

Here's what happened instead. Tina and Niki are at the Hollywood Charity Horse Show this week and couldn't trailer Snoopy to San Marcos. Christine (my other friend with a trailer) is in Elk Grove at a horse show and couldn't take him, either. This meant I had to hire a professional horse transport. They're nice people, very easy to get along with and take excellent care of the horses, but they are Expensive - As - Hell. They're easily triple the cost of what Tina or Christine would charge me.

But I didn't see any other options, so I booked Stacey and Chuck to take Snoopy to the doctor. The problem was that they wanted to know when they were doing this, since it was a day trip and Snoop had to come home. It was a very reasonable request.

I called Dr. Martinelli, just as he requested, to find out when to bring Snoopy down. I called him on Monday. Then I called him on Tuesday. Three times. Each time I called him on Tuesday, I had Stacey calling me shortly after (telepathy on her part, I'm sure) to get the status.

My options were few at this point. I could just arrange for a mid-morning transport and hope for the best. Maybe we'd get down there and the ultrasound doctor wouldn't be there, which means we'd go home and I'd have paid $400 for a car ride. Or we'd get down there and the doctor wasn't coming until late afternoon and I'd have to figure out how to get Snoopy home. We could hitchhike, but Snoopy doesn't have opposable thumbs.

Or I could cancel.

In the doctor's defense, I know they get busy. But I hate calling and calling and calling - to a black hole. I begin to feel like a jilted lover. "Please, can't we just talk?" Or a stalker.

I was so revved up about seeing this doctor, and finding more information about Snoopy's injury, and I still am, but if we have to re-schedule, that's the way it is. I'll get in touch with him again (even if I have to call in Dr. Murphy) and try to make an appointment when Tina or Christine can take him. That way, I've got a little bit of wiggle room if the appointment doesn't go as planned.

Because nothing ever seems to go as planned these days.

We've set the date!

2009-04-12T13:28:00.000-07:00

After two phone messages and an extensive email to Dr. Martinelli with no response, I called in the big guns: Dr. Brigid Murphy. This experience has removed any trace of shyness I ever had about contacting doctors, animal or human. If it takes name dropping, intermediaries, papal dispensation, I don't care - I'll get to see that doctor one way or the other.

Dr. Martinelli couldn't have been nicer when he called finally called me. He had actually read my blog and could discuss Snoopy's case in detail - not only that, but he had a way of talking to me that didn't either condescend or talk above my grasp of medical lingo. In other words, I felt like we had a conversation.

As I suspected, before going through any treatment, he wants to do an evaluation, which is fine with me. I mean, why should he give my horse shock wave treatment on MY say-so? The really good part of this is that he contracts with a doctor who has a digital, high-res, state-of-the-art ultrasound and can get much better pictures of Snoopy's pastern. The not-as-good news is that the doctor (he told me his name, but I can't recall it right now) is semi-retired and has a sporadic schedule. We've set the appointment for a week from this Wednesday. I'm to bring Snoopy's x-rays, too.

He sounded a little worried when I told him Dr. Fischer didn't see any reason why Snoopy would return to full soundness. While he said this was certainly possible, Snoopy's injury being in the back of his pastern makes it one of the more difficult types of desmitis to treat. He's had horses take as long as 18 months to recover from this, so he likes to take the kind of pessimistic, long-term view. That way, owners are not looking for the miraculous, 6-month healing.

So hopefully Snoopy and I will find a ride down to San Marcos on April 22nd. I think it's also the weekend of the Hollywood Charity Horse Show, and both Tina and Christine may be too busy to give us a lift. Wish us luck!

Progress begins again

2009-04-01T20:19:00.000-07:00

Despite my house falling apart around me, luck smiled upon me Monday. Dr. Snyder called, around noon I think, to discuss Snoopy. He sounded like he was on his car phone; either that, or he was standing in the middle of a freeway.

I went over the same things that I told Dr. Nieto - or whoever it was - about Snoop's broken foot, short-striding, handwalking since August, yadda, yadda. I added in what Dr. Pollard had written down for me to tell him about the diagnostic anesthesia: "Abaxial nerve block was essentially negative. Low 4-point block was 80%+ better."

Dr. Snyder was as patient and nice as Dr. Nieto-whoever and said that it sounded like insertion desmitis was the correct diagnosis. He offered three options:

1. Stem cells - I thought this therapy was only useful for new injuries, but Dr. Snyder told me they've been having a lot of success with chronic problems. The downside to this therapy is that it's wildly expensive, about $3000. I'd have to sell a lot of copies of Freezer Burn to justify it.

2. Shock wave - Dr. Snyder assured me that this was much less expensive, and wouldn't harm Snoopy at all. The worst that could happen is that after spending money on the treatment, it wouldn't work.

3. Continue with the current therapy - which is just walking.

Dr. Snyder recommended the shock wave plus the walking regimen. He said the next ultrasound (due April 26) would show whether there was any improvement. Actually, he sounded like he would be interested in knowing how the ultrasound turned out.

So that's what we're going to do. Tina spoke with Brigid (Dr. Murphy) who said Dr. Martinelli had the best shock wave machine around. He is down in San Marcos, but he's the head of California Equine Orthopedics, and he treated Copper, Tina's old show horse, so he sounds pretty good. I'll set up the appointment, then figure out how to get Snoopy down to his facility.

I'm actually kind of excited to have him treat Snoopy. I don't want this blog to sound like I just want my horse to be instantly healed. If it takes a year for him to recover, it takes a year. What I want to avoid is for Snoopy to end up an invalid because we didn't push enough, stretch him enough, etc.

Trust me - I'll keep you all informed.

For my next trick...

2009-03-30T10:47:00.000-07:00

I don't have anything truly revelatory to report here, but I have been using this blog as a way to communicate with the vets as to when things happened with Snoopy. After my dismal e-mail exchange with Dr. Nieto, I decided to wipe the slate and start from scratch. I would call UC Davis anew, as if I'd never called before. Dr. Murphy and I spoke on Saturday about my troubles, and she said, if necessary, she'd get involved in the mix.

This morning, I called UC Davis and asked to speak with Dr. Snyder. The woman answering the phone said she'd put me through to his voicemail if he didn't answer. Of course he didn't answer - what doctor every answers? It was a little disconcerting - there was no outgoing message on his voicemail, no "Hello, you've reached me." Instead, I heard a beep, then Little Miss Computer Voice told me to press 2 to continue to record my message. I pressed 2, heard another beep, and recorded what I'm certain is a long, rambling, message, accompanied by every phone number I will be even close to - I considered leaving the number to Albertson's since I plan to do some shopping later, but I didn't.

The problem with leaving a message is that I really need to have Snoopy's big folder in front of me to discuss his injury and treatment in terms a doctor can understand. So I'm hoping Dr. Snyder returns my call today, while I sit home, patiently waiting for the Home Depot to deliver and install my new water heater. The past week has been trying for the Carline household. The microwave is broken, the water heater leaked all over the garage (and the shut-off valve broke, meaning we spent most of Friday night and Saturday was spent without water entirely), the dishwasher won't drain and there's a leak under the kitchen sink. When the bees showed up in our chimney on Sunday, it really was the last straw.

And, to top it off, my horse is still lame.

A brake in the action

2009-03-21T09:43:00.000-07:00

Yes, I mean "brake", as in "putting on the brakes."

To recap, we're trying to find the source of Snoopy's discomfort with his left hind foot. The fracture has healed. Dr. Fischer thinks it's tendinitis, at least the equine version. The exact wording was, "the superficial digital flexor tendon was enlarged at its insertion and had hypoechoic areas in each branch."

Got that?

His recommendation was to handwalk Snoopy for 30 minutes a day and bring him back in 60 days for more tests. This might be fine if we hadn't already been walking Snoopy for the past, oh, eight months or so with no improvement. My insecurity about Dr. Fischer's diagnosis comes from watching him do the ultrasound - he never seemed to have that "AHA" moment, when he points to something on the screen and says, "Look at that." He only waved his finger about and used words like "seems to be", "looks like", "maybe". I don't care how sure he was about his diagnosis when he spoke to me in the office, I didn't see that same degree of certainty in the examination.

Oh, and NOTE: **To All Horse Owners Who Have Ultrasounds Performed** When they are doing the ultrasound, request that they print at least TWO copies of the ultrasound pictures. As state-of-the-art as my equine hospital may be, they cannot save the ultrasound electronically, like they can their digital x-rays. So everytime I want a second opinion from another vet, they have to send the original to the vet, along with a SASE to send it back when the vet is finished with it. This is important to know.

I called UC Davis and spoke with Dr. Nieto, who talked to me about Snoopy's problem for about 20-30 minutes, then said he'd rather not look at medical records, he'd rather see the horse at this point. He told me that the first thing he'd do is perform his own ultrasound, then do pain blocking to pinpoint the source of Snoopy's pain. This is also called "diagnostic anesthesia" - you numb the hoof, see if the horse still limps, then numb the fetlock, and work your way up the horse's leg to find out where the problem is.

Dr. Fischer had refused to do this blocking. According to him, you risk injuring the horse by allowing him to put full weight (or full range of mobility) on a hurting limb. The other vets I spoke with disagreed with this. Their arguments were that: 1) you only trot the horse briefly to see if it still hurts, and 2) after you perform the procedure, you put the horse back in his stall until the anesthesia wears off.

I scheduled Dr. Pollard to do the pain blocking. He had to cancel the first appointment, but he was on time the second time and I watched him work. We started with the hoof. There was no change in Snoopy's trot; full stride on the right and a half-stride on the right. It was a little funny to watch Snoop walk the first few steps with a numbed foot - he couldn't find his foot or the ground, so he kept lifting his foot uber-high, then kind of slop it down. After awhile he figured it all out and was as good a patient as he could be, under the circumstances, the circumstances being that Dr. Pollard didn't want him sedated while we trotted him.

Dr. Pollard next went to Snoopy's fetlock. Snoopy was, by this time, very happy to be out of his stall and be allowed to trot, even if it was supposed to be slow and even, with a stud chain. Poor Niki has bad knees and a broken toe, but Tina was sick with some kind of crud and couldn't jog very far, and I'm the mom, so no one trusted me with him. (This is okay, I understand. I taught him all his bad behavior.)

The fetlock numbing made him trot a lot better. Not 100% better, but a lot better. Dr. Pollard officially described it as 80%. He wrote me a note to describe his findings and told me to call UC Davis again and offer to send them the x-rays, the ultrasound and his findings, to see what they have to say.

By the time I got home, it was too late to call, so I emailed Dr. Nieto, reminding him who I was and what we discussed, etc. The next day, I got this email from him:

"Dear Gayle, I think you have the wrong person. I have not talked to you about your horse. Sorry, Jorge Nieto"

WTF? His was the name I heard when the woman at the office said she'd transfer my call. His name was what I heard when the voicemail picked up. No one else on the website has a name even NEAR 'Nieto'. Did I spend 30 minutes talking to an imposter?

Honestly, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

I emailed back: "I'm sorry to press one more time, but I called UC Davis Large Animal Hospital, Equine Clinical Services on Friday, March 6th and explained my horse's problem. They transferred me to the voicemail of Dr. Nieto, and I left a message. About 20 minutes later, a doctor called and we discussed my horse - I perhaps assumed it was Dr. Nieto? Or is there another doctor on staff whose name sounds very much like yours?"

I'm hoping that sounded like perhaps I made a mistake but perhaps you just forgot about that Friday phone call - because, because, um, it was Friday afternoon and you'd already had a few gin & tonics?

Today I decided to start all over again and leave a message for Dr. Snyder. I called UC Davis, only to be told that Dr. Snyder doesn't have his voicemail set up! Sigh. The lovely young girl told me to call on Monday, during regular office hours and they'll help me.

In the meantime... we walk.

When life gives you lemons

2009-03-13T13:17:00.000-07:00

Okay, there's no lemonade to be squeezed out here. Only more lemons.

After speaking with Dr. Nieto of UC Davis, I talked with Tina and we decided to take his advice and do more to investigate the exact location of Snoopy's discomfort. Tina thought Dr. Fischer had done blocking, although I don't recall telling her he did (just one more miscommunication in Snoopy's recovery). On Sunday, I emailed Dr. Fischer to confirm that he did not do any pain blocking on Snoopy to further pinpoint the source of his problem. He replied the same day that no, he did not perform any "diagnostic anesthesia". His reasoning was, "with a dropped fetlock, there is significant injury already present and diagnostic anesthesia can alleviate the pain and exacerbate the injury."

I remember having this conversation with him during Snoopy's exam; when I told Dr. Nieto of Dr. Fischer's concerns, his response was, "Well, we're not taxing him significantly at the time, just trotting him briefly in a straight line. And the blocking agent wears off within an hour, hour and a half, so we just keep him confined until it's worn off."

So I made an appointment for Dr. Pollard to come out and perform diagnostic anesthesia today (Friday) at 10:30 a.m. I had a riding lesson to teach at 4 p.m., which meant I'd go to Chino Hills in the morning and stay until the afternoon.

Ah, if life was only that simple. Two additional items arrived on my plate: 1) an invitation to my son's high school soccer banquet, beginning at 6 p.m., and 2) my publisher sent me the final copy of my book to proof before it goes to the printer. Now I had to go to the ranch by 10:30, return home to work on the book and prepare for the banquet, then go back to the ranch to teach the lesson, change clothes and get to the high school.

Which would have worked, except that when I arrived at the ranch this morning, Niki informed me that Dr. Pollard called and canceled the appointment. It seems he was up to his elbows in emergencies this morning and just couldn't get to any non-critical cases. Damn horses - they refuse to get sick on a schedule, don't they?

So I went back home and tried not to think about wasting my morning. Instead, I focused on what needed to be done.

Snoopy's not in any immediate danger. Dr. Pollard re-scheduled for next Wednesday morning, so maybe we can get the answers we're looking for. I just wish I had a Data Out port I could plug into my horse and get the information. Color me impatient.

Who do I have to sleep with to get some service here?

2009-03-06T16:12:00.000-08:00

Okay, maybe that's not the best way to start a conversation. After I mulled over Dr. Fischer's diagnosis and recommendation, I decided to go ahead and contact UC Davis' Large Animal Hospital.

I thought an email would be the best initial contact. In an email, I could describe, in a clear, succinct way, what the problem is and what I'd like the vet to do. So I emailed Dr. Snyder with enough information for him to call and tell me whether he could look over Snoopy's medical records and give me a second opinion before I drag my three-legged horse up and down the coast, looking for treatment.

By the time of this post, I still haven't heard a word from Dr. Snyder, so I called UC Davis. As is always the case, I ended up describing the entire thing to the woman answering the phone, who transferred me to a different vet so I could repeat myself to his voicemail. I'm pretty sure his name is Dr. Nieto, although the lady on the phone kind of slurred it and he seems to have an accent. They both assured me he'll get back to me next week.

WOW! As I was typing my hopes that the doctor would actually return my call next week, the phone rang. It was Dr. Nieto, who spent a good 20 minutes asking me questions and talking to me about what it all meant. His suggestion was to perform more diagnostic tests, specifically using pain-blocking to investigate where the pain is coming from. I explained that Dr. Fischer was hesitant to do this, since a horse that can't feel pain risks further injury. Dr. Nieto believes the risk is small, and the reward may be the discovery of where the problem originates. I thanked him for his time, and now I'll try to convince Dr. Fischer to research Snoop's short-striding a little more.

Wish me luck.

By the way, here's a picture I found in my files the other day:

This is why my boy is such a pill on the ground. Isn't he darling here? Only a few months' old, he loved to lay his head on me and get his withers scratched. This is not so darling now, when he weighs 1000 lbs. But I can't convince him that it's no longer appropriate.

It's my fault. It's ALL my fault.

The Thot Plickens

2009-03-03T22:26:00.000-08:00

Eposide I: The Queen is Not Amused

After my initial meeting with Dr. Fischer (for which I paid $175 just for the pleasure of his company), I had lingering questions. Questions that burned in the back of my head and kept me from sleeping, mostly because I knew that attempting to call Dr. Fischer and ask these questions would be an exercise in frustration. I might as well save the call and bang my head against the wall instead - the results would be the same.

By Friday morning, Tina had the same questions as me, and recommended we get a second opinion. There is a vet down south, in Escondido who has done miraculous things with lameness in horses, so we set up an appointment with him for March 18. In the meantime, I called the equine hospital to get a copy of Snoopy's medical records. When the office found out I never got a copy of his discharge papers, they had the blonde intern email them to me. In her email, she said if I had any questions, to contact them. It was the typical "if there's anything else we can do" company line.

That's when I learned her name: Antje. I also learned her email address. This came in handy. On Sunday, I had an idea. I sent the following email:

"Dear Antje,
Thank you for the discharge papers. Yes, after mulling it all over, I have tons of questions.

1. We have been handwalking Snoopy since August. Another 60 days of "more of the same" does not sound like we will improve anything, does it?
2. Couldn't Snoopy's x-rays from the initial break, through the last series, be evaluated and compared to see how much (if any) the angle of the pastern has changed? If I could see that, for example, his pastern was lower and now it's getting higher, I'd have a lot more faith in the therapy, knowing that he's on the mend, but it will take a little longer.
3. Only walking was discussed as a cure for his problem. Is there no other physical therapy to be considered? Stretching exercises? Anti-inflammatories? Ice?

I'm frankly getting frustrated, not that it is any fault of the hospital. Dr. Fischer is a good surgeon and I am satisfied with Snoopy's surgery. However, I am having a hard time getting a local vet (apart from Dr. Murphy) to become engaged in Snoopy's recovery. After our appointment on Thursday, I had time to think and consider the questions above; however, my inability to access anyone with expertise to answer my questions frustrates me. My phone calls to Dr. Fischer go unreturned, so I clearly cannot seek out his advice.

I plan to be as pro-active for my horse's recovery as my wallet can afford. My next step will be to contact UC Davis' equine program to see if they can give me any other ideas.

Thanks again,..."

Antje replied, rather quickly, that she'd talk to the good doctor about my concerns on Monday.

Episode II, Where Gayle Gets a Rise Out of the Doctor

I expected a phone call, maybe on Monday, but maybe not for another week, since Dr. Fischer did not have a good track record with me and the telephone. Amazingly, I got another email later Sunday evening:

"Gayle,
Dr. Hinz forwarded me your email. I had assumed that the communications were being handled by the referring DVM's. They had sent us the films and we called them and I assumed that you were informed. Obviously, something broke down. The issue is not your horse's pastern angle but the fetlock.
Why don't you call my cell phone at <***> after 8:30 tomorrow if you have further questions and I can try to answer them. Alternatively, email works for me but it can be hard to make sure that everyone is understanding everything.
Ted Fischer"

Holy smokes, it's the great and powerful Oz himself!

I sent him the following reply: "Thanks. I'll call tomorrow. Pastern or fetlock, my questions are the same."

Episode III: Making the Call

I called around 8:45 on Monday and got the doctor on the phone. We talked for almost an hour. According to him: 1) he and Dr. Murphy did try to compare previous x-rays, but couldn't find one with a comparable angle; 2) there is no drug or treatment other than time to heal a suspensory ligament; 3) there was no earthly reason for us to have to sedate Snoopy in order to walk him, and 4) while very sorry about the breakdown in communication, there was no way it was his fault.

I couldn't argue with 1 & 2, but we had a rather lively discussion about 3, where I kept repeating, "He's five years old and he hasn't been able to run free for ten months," and he kept giving me examples of psycho race horses who didn't need sedation to be handwalked. I don't care what he says, either he hasn't truly seen a "psycho race horse" or he thinks it's normal for a horse being handwalked to need four people keeping it from floating away like one of those Macy's Day Parade balloons.

As to his 4th topic, I explained to him what it looked like on my end of our tin-cans-with-string: Dr. Pollard takes x-rays and says we'll know what our next step is when Dr. Fischer reviews the films. I wait a couple of days and call, but Dr. Fischer doesn't call me back. After another week and another call, I tearfully explain it all to Dr. Murphy, who drives to the hospital, x-rays in hand, and hunts the doctor down to get our next step. By then, our 60-day rehab has turned into 75.

He still wasn't willing to concede fault, but he said he was certain our communications problems were behind us. They should be. I have his email address and his cell phone.

Epilogue: What next?

Half of me wants to believe he is correct, that walking will put Snoopy back on track. Half of me still wants that second opinion. So today, I emailed Dr. John Snyder of the UC Davis Large Animal Hospital, Equine Department. I explained Snoopy's injury as briefly as possible and asked if he would be willing (for a fee, naturally) to examine Snoop's medical records and see if he concurs, or if he'd like to see my horse for more tests.

I'm sure I'll have to auction off my organs to pay for any tests/treatment from UC Davis, but if I can return my horse to good health, it will be worth it.

Stay tuned for The Return of the Frustrated, Bitchy, Yet Proactive Horse Owner.

The good, the bad and the ugly

2009-02-27T07:02:00.000-08:00

First, the bad news: frustrated by Snoopy's inability to trot without a pronounced limp, we scheduled an appointment with the doctor to have him evaluated. Pam at the Chino Valley Equine Hospital could not be nicer to deal with and set us up with an appointment with Dr. Fischer right away.

I have a love-hate relationship with Dr. Fischer, although I'm certain he's unaware of it. Surgically, he did a wonderful job of repairing Snoop's broken sesamoid. As far as communications go, however, he is a black hole of response. I cannot get him to call me back, even when I leave the most dire of messages. Every time I need an answer, Dr. Murphy has to chase him down for me. Before yesterday, I had never even seen him "in de flesh".

After giving Snoop a significant dose of his favorite cocktail, Tina, Niki and I walked him down to the hospital (the ranch is located maybe two blocks away). We stuck Snoopy in an outside pen then went inside to wait for Dr. Fischer. True to form, he walked into the office without acknowledging us, then walked out, then walked in... you get the picture.

Suddenly, I look outside at the Snoop and see one of the interns (the young blonde girl with a German accent whose name I can never get right) go into the pen with him, so I went outside to join them. Good thing I was watching my horse!

"I haven't seen Snoopy in a long time," she said. "Why are we seeing him today?"

"It's been ten months and he's still not trotting," I told her.

She turned him around in the stall. "Well, he seems to be walking just fine."

At that moment, Niki walked up.

"Oh, he walks fine," I said. "But his trot is... no good."

It was not quite the precise and detailed explanation I had hoped Tina or Niki would give the doctor, but Niki laughed and told me it was exactly right. His trot is no good. Tina and Dr. Fischer appeared at that point, along with another intern. The doctors all took turns poking and prodding his back pasterns, then discussing what they felt. Then they took him onto the dirt and trotted him. Apart from failing the sobriety test (he couldn't trot in a straight line), he wouldn't reach underneath himself with that left foot, although he didn't mind putting weight on it.

Then came the x-rays, then more x-rays, then an ultrasound. It all took a long time, so Tina and Niki had to go back to the ranch to teach their lessons. The hospital staff wouldn't let me into the x-ray room, so all I could hear was some general stomping about. With all of the waiting, he had started to mouth Tony, the guy holding him, which was a sign that the tranquilizer was wearing off. By the time we got to ultrasound, Snoopy was awake.

I'd like you to take a look at the picture:

Tony is holding Snoopy. We are in the hallway between the offices and the examination rooms. I don't know why, but that's where the doctor wanted to do the ultrasound. Just beyond Snoopy's nose is a ficus tree. It was a general recipe for chaos.

Snoopy wanted to eat the ficus. Failing that, he wanted to chew on Tony. When Tony objected, he tried to play with the handle on the door. He certainly did not want to stand still and have a gooey object run up and down the back of his pastern. They picked up his front foot to keep his back foot down. There was more general wiggling, after which he yanked his foot away from the blonde intern, stretched out and peed in the doorway. That settled him down for about a minute.

"I will need to sedate him," the blonde told me, "if I ever want to get this done today."

They did 'get it done today'. There was more discussion between the doctors that I couldn't decipher - were they saying they knew what was wrong or were they clueless? At least, Brigid (Dr. Murphy) showed up. I knew she could translate for me, if need be. Finally, Dr. Fischer asked me to go wait in the office and he'd explain all.

He showed Brigid and me the x-rays, comparing both hind legs. There was a marked difference in the angles of both pasterns. According to Dr. Fischer, the reason for this is a stretched suspensory ligament - basically, it's tendonitis. He doesn't believe it happened during the injury, but most likely was the result of Snoopy straining to compensate while he moved about during his recuperation. I'm wondering if that little episode of getting his cast stuck in the stall door may have started the whole thing.

The good news is that it's still recoverable, although it may be a long road. Stretched suspensory ligaments typically take a good 6-8 months to heal, and we don't know how long this thing has been stretched out. We're supposed to give him 60 days of physical therapy and then go back for another ultrasound to see where we are on the healing curve. Dr. Fischer wouldn't, of course, guarantee that Snoopy will return to complete soundness, but I'm hoping he's young enough to bounce back. I'm also happy to report Dr. Fischer is a lot nicer in person. Apparently, he just doesn't like to talk on the phone.

The ugly news? Physical therapy for tendonitis is walking. More walking, 30-45 minutes a day. More of the boring sameness that we've been doing for the past 6 months. Tina could weep.

Oh, yeah, and the 'evaluation' cost me nearly $700.

Hope, we must have hope

2009-02-22T20:19:00.000-08:00

Dr. Murphy still thinks that Snoopy is progressing, even if all we can do is walk him. She says (rightly so) that his left side had atrophied quite a bit. He needs to both rebuild the muscles and re-gain flexibility.

As Brigid says, "I'd like to see his butt cheeks look more even before we start trotting."

According to her, we're a long way from calling him permanently disabled. So we're walking him every day and having chiropractic adjustments and keeping our hopes high.

After all, what else is there for us to do at this point?

Slooowwww Progress

2009-01-16T20:17:00.000-08:00

The arena is dry now, and we've gone back to walking Snoopy. Tina tried walking, then trotting, then walking Snoop, but he is sore after he trots, so Dr. Murphy has advised her to just walk him for a couple of weeks. We're also getting the chiropractor involved, but Tina is starting to sound discouraged and wondering if we should have some scans done of the entire hip/leg/foot. She thinks the break is healed, but perhaps his movement while he wore the cast, coupled with the months of inactivity, has tweaked some other piece of the puzzle.

In the meantime, they found a better tranquilizer to make Snoopy easier to walk. Can you blame him? He's five years old and hasn't been able to run and jump and buck since last May. I feel so sorry for him, having to be doped up just to walk around, but he's hard to control if you don't give him something. And Ace seems to make him less calm and more hyper.

I'd just like to have my horse back again. It's still impossible for me to think that he might not come back and I'll have a lawn ornament for the next 15-20 years.

We wish you a Merry Christmas - and Snoopy does, too!

2008-12-18T20:13:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to write a quick note to let everyone know that Snoopy has been progressing well. Tina and Dr. Murphy have decided that perhaps Dr. Fischer is a rather secondary character in Snoopy's rehabilitation and shouldn't be constantly queried unless Snoop has an astounding setback. Something we'd all rather not have happen. Dr. Murphy believes, since the x-rays continue to look good, that Snoopy's left hind leg and hip muscles are simply atrophied from the months of non-use, and we must re-build them slowly.

Tina and Niki are trying a new exercise regime for him (with Dr. Murphy's blessing). They "pony" him with the golf cart. Every day, they put a flake of hay in the back and Tina sits, holding the lead rope, while Niki drives around the large arena. Snoopy follows behind, eating. They speed up slightly for brief moments of trotting, then walk. They had built up to 20 minutes a day before the rains hit.

If you don't live in southern California, that last statement means nothing to you, but we have had two days of continual rain, and by "continual" I mean I didn't know the sky could contain that much water. The arenas are now, of course, completely soggy and unable to be traversed by man or beast. The rain is now gone for awhile, but if we don't get sunny skies and either warm temperatures or brisk winds, the ground will not dry very soon. This puts a crimp into the Snoopy rehab schedule.

Once it dries out, I'll take some pictures and post them. In the meantime, check out our Christmas picture for the latest look at Snoopy. Believe it or not, he was the best behaved animal in the shot!

Six months, a year... it's all the same to the vet

2008-11-29T20:10:00.000-08:00

So much has happened in two months, and yet so little...

After Snoopy's bout of colic, he went back to exercise, and promptly started limping. The doctor was again called out, more x-rays were taken and we all held our breaths. Dr. Pollard said the plate and screws looked good, but we'd have to wait for Dr. Fischer to make the final call.

(Insert sound of crickets chirping.)

Dr. Fischer is, I'm sure, a wonderful surgeon. Unfortunately, he has the manners of a monkey. He's spoken to me exactly once, when he referred to Snoopy as "it". Not a warm, fuzzy feeling. Mostly, our communication is via Bridget (Dr. Murphy), who chases him down, x-rays in hand, and hounds him until he looks at the pictures and gives her a diagnosis. Bridget found out that Dr. Fischer wanted Snoopy to walk, on flat surfaces only, for 45 days. Then more x-rays.

Great.

In the meantime, Tina thought it would be a good idea to wear Snoopy down a little before trying to put him on the hot walker by tying him out to our Patience Tree. It's a large tree by the roundpen, where we tie the horses to teach them to stand still. Snoopy had other plans. He found the only large bolt sticking out of the roundpen and rubbed his neck. By rubbed, I mean he scraped himself up and down until he wore a big gash in his neck. Tina tried to butterfly it together, but it needed stitches, so the doctor was called again. This time, Dr. Wasserman came out - she's the one who inseminated Frostie. I call her the Fertility Goddess, which she really gets a kick out of. Four or five stitches and another vet bill later, and Snoopy was still walking on the hot walker, although we had given up on the Patience Tree. I must point out that no other horse before or since has managed to find that bolt and injure themselves. Only Snoopy could do that!

Snoopy managed to walk on the walker pretty quietly, until one Wednesday, when he decided enough was enough. I was just about to give a lesson, when I saw him rip himself off the hot walker. Fortunately, my student hadn't mounted the horse yet, so we waited while Niki caught my big, black baby. First, he galloped straight up the hill toward the paddocks. The workers, Umberto and Raoul, tried to corner him, but he escaped and started to run down the hill. Then, he saw Niki coming up the hill with a lead rope in her hand. He stopped so hard, he sat down and slid, like a reiner. All I could do was watch and think, "Not the foot! Not the foot!"

Amazingly, he was no worse for wear. We decided not to try the hot walker anymore, so now Snoopy goes to the top of the hill everyday and wanders around in the large pipe stall. He likes it, so he walks up and back pretty quietly.

When Dr. Fisher looked at his x-rays, he told Bridget that he's known horses to take a year to come back from this kind of injury. Back in April, he told us it would be a six month recovery. I guess he can't tell time.

If it ain't one thing, it's another

2008-10-08T20:07:00.000-07:00

Via the miracle of Ace and lip chains, Snoopy has been hand-walked every day since the end of August. Dr. Pollard came out the first week of October and took more x-rays. He was very happy with the pictures - the plate was still straight, the screws still unbroken.

The following Tuesday, Snoopy had his first workout on the longe line. Tina didn't tell me she was going to do this, which was just as well. I wouldn't have been able to breathe for an hour, whether I was there to witness it or not. She called and told me what had happened after the fact.

First, Tina gave him a big fat dose of Ace (5 times the normal dose), then put him on the line in the bullpen. He acted like a typical 4-year old who's been standing in a stall for five months - trying to buck and kick and run. Which is not what she wanted him to do, so she decided to make him too interested in his surroundings to try to act like a crazy horse. She took him to the trail course and had him (still on the line) walking, then jogging, then loping over poles. By the end of it all, he was loping the wheel, both directions, until he had worked up a sweat. He loves the poles, and seemed to enjoy going over them, head down, looking for the next one.

Today, Tina repeated the exercise, except without the Ace. Snoopy was so good, she thought that she might try riding him tomorrow...

Then the other shoe dropped, so to speak.

When I went in to the ranch, I made up Snoopy's bag of A&M and garlic and walked to his stall. He was lying down, but got up and nosed around his goodies. I got my lesson gear ready, then went back to see him. He was lying down again. I expressed my concerns to Tina, who felt like being optimistic.

"No, he's okay. See, he's coming over to the stall door."

"But he's not trying to eat you." This has become the barometer for how Snoopy is feeling. If he's trying to eat you, he's healthy.

After the third time he laid down, Tina admitted he was trying to colic. She called Brigid Murphy, who scampered right out to stick tubing down Snoop's nose and pump him full of oil. He rebounded almost immediately, and was back to trying to nibble on everyone within reach.

Forget the fruit basket - I owe that woman a kidney.

Baby's first steps

2008-08-29T20:02:00.000-07:00

For almost a week, I tried to get hold of Snoopy's surgeon, Dr. Fischer, to find out what he thought of Snoopy's x-rays, and what we should do next. Finally, darling Dr. Bridget Murphy came to my rescue. She printed out the x-rays, took them to the Chino Valley Equine Hospital, chased Dr. Fischer down and shoved the pix into his hands, then stood and waited for him to review them and give his recommendation.

I owe that woman a fruit basket. A chocolate-dipped fruit basket.

On a very humid, drippy, hotter than hell afternoon, Snoopy took his first hand-walk around the ranch grounds. That's Niki, one of my trainers, doing the honors. We made certain that there wasn't anything to distract him, like other horses, the tractor or its accessories, odd things lying in odd places, etc. The surgeon said we could walk him for 15 minutes, but Niki planned to just walk him a few times around the interior of the ranch. Nothing near the road, where trucks and other horses could startle him. Nothing near the neighbors, where the dogs or goats might make him jump. If we could have lined the path with mattresses, we would have.

I had joked with the staff at my dog's vet that Niki and I might look like the balloon walkers at the Macy's Parade, with Snoopy floating in the air like a helium version of himself. In actuality, he stayed quite grounded. For standing in his stall four months, he was a very good boy. There was no bucking, no rearing, no prancing, no dancing. Of course, some of you might notice that he was wearing a lip chain, but he was still good.

We gave him a dose of Ace about a half hour before this, but it didn't seem to work. He was still trying to nibble on the chain, the line, the halter, me... Niki wants to up the dose slightly tomorrow. She'd like to get him to a place where he's tranquil enough to be walked without needing the lip chain.

So the directions from Dr. Fischer were to walk him 15 minutes every day for 30 days, then take more x-rays. Aye-aye, Dr. Fischer.

Aren't I lucky?

2008-08-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

Snoopy has now been standing in his stall for another 30 days (90 days total), trying to be good, but bored silly. I put a toy in his stall to try to amuse him, but mostly he wants company. He loves it when I go in and brush him, or take a wet cloth and a bucket and give him a sponge bath.

We do get him out of his stall to change his wrap, and he is using the leg very well now, putting his full weight on it and using his heel when he walks.

Last Friday, Dr. Pollard came and took x-rays of the leg. As he showed me how straight the plate is, that the screw heads are still flush against it and the screws are all unbroken, I realized what could have happened while we were waiting for things to heal.

I'm anxious to get Snoopy out of his stall for some hand walking, but the surgeon, Dr. Fischer, has to review the x-rays before he gives his okay, and he's on vacation FOR A MONTH. Yes, we should all be so lucky - must have been that surgery I paid for...

Dr. Murphy (aka my friend, Bridget) said that it's best for Snoop to stay in his stall and ensure the fracture is fully repaired before trying to walk him around. Which is fine, since Niki (the trainer) is not looking forward to trying to hand walk him. We think we'll need Ace, a stud chain, and two people, one on each side of him. It'll be Tina and Niki, since I'll be holding the video camera... ;-)

I'll try to post some pictures.

Did you miss me?

2008-07-04T19:56:00.000-07:00

Did you even know I was gone?

My family and I took a cruise to Alaska. The picture above is the view from our balcony. It was a perfect cruise - great views, 24-hour grazing, and a bartender who always knew just what I needed.

While we were away, Snoopy got his cast off. Now he's wearing a thick leg wrap, but he's still confined to his stall for another month, after which we can start hand-walking him (hopefully). I'm hoping he's not spinning like a June bug on a string when we finally take him out for some exercise.

Now then, where were we?

2008-06-04T19:54:00.000-07:00

Snoopy's home (again)! His leg is ever-so-much better. The cast sore is large, but nice and dry. If all goes well, he'll spend 2-3 weeks hanging out in his stall before he goes back to the hospital to get his cast either changed or taken off completely.

Right now, he's very bored. I put a toy in his stall, but he's not interested. He wants interaction, human and horse. My friend, Kip, gave me a funny visual of Snoopy - greeting the guys who clean his stall by throwing his front legs around their necks and hugging them, grateful tears in his eyes. Very funny!

One step forward, twelve steps back

2008-05-22T19:53:00.000-07:00

Snoopy's back in the hospital. *sigh*

We think that his run-in with the stall door aggravated a cast sore on his leg, causing it to seep. Since infection is to be avoided at all costs, Tina took him back to the hospital yesterday, where they cut a "window" in his cast to examine and treat the sore. Dr. Fisher wants to keep him a couple of days to make certain his cast will still keep his leg immobilized with a hole in it. If it does, he'll be sent back home, where hopefully he won't do some other boneheaded thing to put him back in the hospital. If the cast doesn't stay together...

Okay, I don't know what happens then. I'll try to hunt down the doctor today and get more answers.

The good news is that everybody at the hospital just loves Snoopy, even if he is, in their words, "a little mouthy." A little?

He's home!

2008-05-17T19:49:00.000-07:00

Snoopy finally came home yesterday, with a list of instructions on how to tell if there's something wrong with his cast. Dr. Hinton (I think that's her name - she has a German accent and it seems like everytime I say "Hinson" she says "Hinton" and everytime I say "Hinton" she says "Hinson") explained it all in great detail to Tina and me. It was quite a show, like the clash of the Titans; Tina trying to tell the doctor that she's got, like animal EMT training, and Dr. Hinton trying to tell Tina that she's obligated to explain everything, even if they're a freakin' doctor, and me standing in the middle of it all.

And now comes the part where we keep Snoopy in a stall for 6 weeks and keep him from being bored and feeling so good that he jumps around and re-injures the leg. I hung a toy (Jolly Ball-Apple Snack combo) from a chain and we're doing a little free-feeding of oat hay. He'll get a few alfalfa cubes, but not much. He needs the protein to help his bones knit together, but too much alfalfa will make him too fat and energetic.

I see Ace in our future.

LATER THE SAME DAY:

With horses, it's always something.

See the photo from this morning's post? Pay attention to the bottom of the picture, in particular, the gap between the gate and the stall floor.

This afternoon, I walked past Snoopy as he lay, sleeping, in the soft hay. He woke up, stretched so that his cast was sticking out of the gap, then rose, jamming his injured foot in the opening. I immediately tried to get the chain unclipped to open the gate and free his foot. It was stuck.

Thus began a frenzied attempt on my part to free Snoopy, while he calmly pulled his leg to get it out of the trap. He finally bent the door and walked away.

Three-legged. Very three-legged. Oh-My-God-My-Horse-Is-Even-More-Broken three-legged.

Tina (my trainer) was out running errands. I called her, but she didn't answer. She never answers her phone. I'm considering having her cell phone physically installed somewhere on her body, and I don't think she'll like where she has to dial from.

I called Niki (my other trainer), who usually answers her phone. Not today. I called the hospital and got Dr. Brauer's voice mail. I left messages all over. Finally, I called Brigid Murphy, the vet who first looked at Snoop's leg. By this time, I was in tears, as I hate that feeling of abandonment.

Brigid came to my rescue. She drove over, looked Snoopy up and down, and suggested that we just watch him. After that, she went to the hospital and hunted down two surgeons, who agreed with her assessment.

In the meantime, Niki called back and told me to tell the guys at the ranch to take that f*&@!ing door off, Tina came home to tell me that she'll be watching Snoopy tonight, and I stopped wanting to weep uncontrollably.

Tonight, I'm having a Margarita. A big one.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

2008-05-14T19:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Dr. Fisher said that Snoopy could come home today. Tina and I discussed his arrival, planned for putting straw in one of the stalls, etc.

Today, after chasing doctors by phone, Dr. Klohnen informed me that Snoopy was walking a little sore today, so they wanted to keep him an extra day or two to monitor him closely.

Okay, so I'm trying not to worry...

A brief update

2008-05-12T19:46:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I posted, and people have been asking about Snoopy. He's doing really well, so well, in fact, that he's trying to eat anything and everyone who comes into his stall. And who can blame him for being bored? He's a four-year old who's been standing in a stall for a week. For those of you without horses, this is the equivalent of a 1000-lb teenager.

The latest update is that tomorrow Dr. Fisher will take Snoop's cast off, take some x-rays to see if everything's still holding up, then put another cast on. If the leg looks good, they'll send him home for about 10 days, then bring him back for another cast change.

The costs, of course, just keep coming. Tina just switched the stalls over from shavings to rice hulls (they're very cushy and the horses love them), but the vet would prefer Snoopy be bedded in straw, because he doesn't want small pieces of wood or rice down in the cast.

Not only would it increase the risk of infection, Snoopy can't get a coat hanger in there to scratch any itch!

BTW, we'll send out announcements for the cast signing party.

Speaking of horses and injuries -

2008-05-05T19:44:00.000-07:00

Ironically, just as I'm so cautiously optimistic about Snoopy's progress, I read about the tragedy at the Derby on Saturday. Eight Belles broke both ankles and had to be euthanized. I'm not a vet by any means, but I think what she broke were her pasterns; in one article, the vet also mentioned her sesamoid bone, which is what Snoopy broke.

According to the research that Niki and I did about Snoopy's type of injury, broken pasterns and sesamoids were most common among thoroughbreds, and on their front legs. A lot of people have commented to Niki and Tina that they have had horses with these injuries, but the bone has been crushed, resulting in euthanasia.

In other words, we were lucky.

I have mixed feelings about horse racing. On the one hand, it's thrilling to watch. Having read all of the Black Stallion books as a child, I spent plenty of hours imagining myself on a speeding horse, flying around the track to victory.

On the other hand, it's just cruel. These horses are babies, for Pete's sake, they're only 3 years old. Yes, they're as big as tanks at 3, but their joints, their muscles, are all still growing. The pounding of slender hooves on the hard track takes its toll on all of them. Not to mention what some trainers will do to "get more speed" out of them. From diuretics to "make them lighter", to cattle prods to "urge them forward", don't ever think for a moment that trainers love their horses too much to hurt them.

"But they love to run," is the common response. Yes, race horses love to run. But we have bred them to love to run, the same way that we have bred certain dog breeds, like bulldogs, to love to bite things. Does that make it right?

I confess, when I was looking for a suitable stud for breeding Frostie, my mare, I studied bloodlines and temperment, so in a way, I meddled with Snoopy's birth as much as any race horse breeder. But, at the end of the day, have we really been fair to any of these animals by tampering with their family trees?

He's ba-a-a-ack!

2008-05-03T19:41:00.000-07:00

When I visited Snoopy yesterday, he was much perkier, altho not in a bad, stall-spinning way. He began trying to chew on me again, just like his old self. He's also getting used to the cast on his leg, half-swinging and half-dragging it to get around in his stall. There's a lovely view of the stable next door outside his window, and he seems to enjoy watching the jumping lessons.

I decided to bring a curry with me when I see him today to give me something to do, besides smack his nose and tell him to quit trying to eat me!

Day 3 of Snoopy's accident...

2008-05-02T19:39:00.000-07:00

Day 1 of his recovery.

His surgery was very successful. I still haven't talked to the surgeon, but one of the vets who witnessed it said "everything came together" well.

I visited Snoop last night. He was alert, if wobbly from the anesthesia, and eating. He's got a big cast on his left hind leg - I'm hoping that, once he's feeling better, he doesn't try to eat the cast. He's such a land shark!

When he was in surgery yesterday, I tried to think about how the vet reassured me. It's an easy fix, a simple surgery, they do them all the time. But in the back of my head was the worry: anesthesia. Anesthesia is what screws things up.

Once I heard Snoop was in recovery, I suddenly discovered that my appetite had returned.

The beginning of a bad year

2008-05-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a bad, bad day.

I arrived at the ranch for my lesson, cranky as hell. My trainer, Tina, had called my cell phone to tell me that my lesson needed to be finished by 3 p.m. because she had a dog client coming in. This wouldn't have been a problem, except that I turned my cell phone on as I got into my car to go to the ranch - at 1:45. I didn't want to hurry, and I wanted to get a good lesson, since I was planning to show Snoopy for the first time ever this Saturday.

So I raced to the ranch, then ran around trying to get Snoopy ready and ridden before 3. I lunged him in the roundpen for 10 minutes, which wasn't enough, but I got on him anyway. It took less than once around the arena for him to throw a tantrum, so I got off and we went back to the roundpen for more running.

Niki (the other trainer) joined me, and together, we kept him racing around.

And then it happened. His back end started moving "funny." Niki thought he had just tweaked a muscle, so we slowed him to a trot, then a walk. But he didn't trot or walk it off. He just kept limping.

Dr. Bridget Murphy, a friend of Tina's, came out and looked him over. She thought he needed x-rays, but optimistically told me that it might be a weird abcess.

Yeah, right.

Chino Valley Equine Hospital is just down the street from the ranch, so Tina loaded Snoop in the trailer and took him for x-rays. I joined them a few minutes later, just in time to go into the examination room and look at the x-rays.

"See this line?" the good doctor asked, pointing to a white line across a bone. "He broke his pastern."

"What do you do for that?" I asked, hoping the answer wasn't, shoot him.

The doctor took out a model of a horse's foot and explained how they would open the leg up and fuse the joints with metal plates. He probably said a lot more, but my mind got stuck on "fuse the joints."

The upshot is that Snoopy is currently in surgery, he'll be on lay-up for 6 months, and I don't have to worry about whether I ride in the show on Saturday.