Snoopy's mom learns something new today

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

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

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

I'm thankful for the simple things in life.

 ~ Snoopy

Keep Out! In the nicest way.

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.

Short but sweet.

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.

More progress! Yippee!

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.

Baby steps forward

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.

The wait goes on

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.

For my next trick...

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.

The Thot Plickens

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

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

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?

A brief update

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 -

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!

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...

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.