...and we CANTER!!!!

This Friday, October 28, will mark the second anniversary that Dino and I first met in Kentucky. I can't begin to say just how lucky I am to have him, that through the ups and downs of this retraining process, we've clicked and bonded together. It doesn't matter where Dino is in the pasture, when he sees me coming he always lifts his head, nickers and walks to the pasture fence.

Horses are a lot like people with their varying personalities, and sometimes they just don't click; with their herd mates or their humans. Its a part of life. I've had a lot of friends who got horses, off the track or from private buyers, and have had to face the fact it wasn't going to work out because of conflicting personalities. To me, that's the hardest reason to sell a horse. I can accept lack of potential and injuries, but conflicting personality just seems like such a trivial problem. However, its not. You're not doing yourself or your horse any favors by keeping him/her if you can't get along. I've been very lucky.

Dino and I have struggled all summer with our right lead canter. I had skirted the issue all the way up to camp and had to face facts, we needed to canter. The nice thing about an OTTB is that their canter is probably their best gait, since they did so much of it training on the track. Dino canters on the longe line with side-reins and I've even long-lined him and cantered, he has a beautiful canter. I knew that Janet told me not to canter him under saddle until Dino picked up the correct lead 80% of the time. "It should only take you a few months," she told me. Well, let me tell you I can stretch a few months into a few years.

I've always liked cantering, and my fear of cantering stems from my riding accident eight years ago. Since then I think I've cantered a handful of times and I've only been over fences once. Fear is just a funny thing and personally, I can't be pushed out of my comfort zone, I have to do it in my time frame. Well the time was right and I felt comfortable enough with Dino that I could canter.

When Dino and I attended camp this past July, it had been a full year since we had cantered last. Over the course of that year, I was able to ride on the buckle and reach forward with my hand to pet Dino on the neck. I was becoming less and less a bundle of nerves. Dino, bless his soul, has been so patient with me and so in-tuned to me that the more relaxed I became, the more relaxed he became. After camp, Dino and I went back to the longe line and worked extensively on the right lead canter. The more we worked, the more I wanted to ride.

On October 8th, I bit the bullet and longed Dino under saddle. He was good and so I mounted up. Worked a little on the trot and when I felt comfortable, I asked for the canter. The first two times, Dino did pick up the wrong lead but he came back down to the trot - a year ago, he would have done a flying lead change. The third time I asked, he got the correct lead and I literally whooped-and-hollered around the arena. I'm surprised my neighbors didn't come out! After a change in direction, Dino cantered but was a little flustered, so back to the trot. The second time we cantered, he was so round and soft that I just melted into the saddle.

By the end of the ride, Dino and I had switched directions a few times working on cantering and in the end, I just couldn't be happier...for him or myself.

Cantering again was not quite my "Ahh-haa" moment, but a flashback memory of the rider I once was and with Dino, could be again.

I've recently switched Dino to Tribute's Kalm Ultra, a 12% protein, 12% fiber, and 12% fat feed. While he's at a decent weight, I would like to see him just a tad fuller.

Tricks of the...trade??

People send me sale ads all the time. Sometimes they amuse me. Other times I'm terrified for the safety for all involved. More times than not, I wonder if people realize just what 'picture' of themselves and their horses they are putting out there for the WHOLE WORLD TO SEE. I'm guessing they don't. Or they don't care. Then you have the professional ads, the ones from big name stables with big name trainers/rider and horses to boot. I like how they word their ads. My favorite is: "Has a great work ethic" or "Likes his/her job".

No. No they don't. Really. They don't.

If given the choice of a)carrying a rider on their back while they work on bending or b)lounging around and eating all day; they're going to go with B 99.999% of the time. And who can blame them? I'd rather lounge around all day watching a Storage Wars marathon, but unfortunately my horses have foolishly become accustom to their lifestyle. Which, funny enough, consists of lounging around and EATING.

Of course there is that 0.001% of the equine population that does enjoy their job and does have a great work ethic. I can tell you just where they reside, too: in a stallion barn.

How does this relate to Dino? He has a bag of tricks he uses, when he's asked to do something in a training session that he doesn't want to do. Its a small bag and once he's exhausted all of them, he'll actually do what I'm asking of him. You might be thinking: "There could be something wrong that's causing him to react that way; pain or fear. Maybe you're just not speaking his language or you just haven't played enough games with him..." I have very little use for New Age Horse Trainers and hardly anything nice to say, at all. So I will say this: horses are like teenagers. You walk a very fine line between disciplinarian and friend.

My trainer asked me one time how things were going with Dino and I. "You mean besides the bucking, bolting, and rearing? Oh, we're good," I responded. Those aren't Dino's only tricks. He can back up faster than a reiner and he'll change his tempo from super slow to high speed. He also likes to drop his shoulder and fall in with his hindquarters. Lately it's dropping his head below his knees and then hanging on the reins, giving me great discomfort in my lower back. None of this makes Dino, or any other horse for that matter, a bad horse. I just always need to be ready to counteract Dino's next move. Flex his jaw and keep his poll as the highest point. Come with a little spur or a tap of the whip to keep his hindquarters in line. As for the bucking, bolting, rearing, and backing up: that's longeing.

A week or so ago, Dino ripped a D-ring off my surcingle when he backed up nearly a 100' and then bolted. Dino then ran around the arena like a mad man, probably didn't help I was chasing after him with the lunge whip. But I didn't care, he was going to keep his feet moving until I told him he could stop. And stop he did and came directly to me when asked. How could I be mad? Instead we just went back to work and finished our session. Dino still didn't want to trot, but was more than happy to after I turned the tables on him and made him canter...a whole six minutes. Everytime he broke back down into a trot, which was about every 30 seconds, I cued him back into the canter and each time he picked up the right lead. I was so happy with him because we've been struggling with the right lead all summer.

I think what really started this episode, was that Dino wasn't happy I moved up the side-reins on the surcingle to keep his poll higher. I then ran the lunge line through the bit to the top D-ring on the surcingle, so that I could continue flexing him and engage his inside hind. The first day Dino wasn't happy with this new arrangement, but he went along with it. The second day, he threw his little temper tantrum and ripped the D-ring off my surcingle. Which is typical, the first day back to work from a break or doing something new, Dino goes along with it but you can see the wheels in motion. The next day, he acts up. No big deal and in the end, his being 'bad' didn't get him anywhere, he still had to work. The way I see it, it is merely a rough training patch that I try to turn around to accomplish my goal. In this particular example it was not as successful as I would have liked. He was never forward in the trot, but he didn't want to canter anymore and he was out of tricks. :)

And I can't even be mad at him about my surcingle. I bought it from Dover Saddlery about 13 or 14 years ago. I'm amazed it held up this long. I don't even use the nylon girth that came with it, instead I just use my dressage girth which just seems more comfortable. As far as I'm concerned, Dino did me a favor...heck Dino just bought me AND him a gift - a new surcingle.

Sometimes, its just the little things that can really make one happy. :D

Dino on our first cold morning, requiring the use of a quarter sheet.
(September 16, 2011.)

(The above picture is prior to my moving up the side-reins. Again, here they are only looped around the girth. When I first got Dino, like a lot of off-the-track-thoroughbreds, Dino carried his head too high and was above the bit. In an effort to encourage him to bring his head down and come over his top line, we placed the side-reins around the girth. This also helped in teaching him to carry himself, not use me for balance, and take contact with the bit - as the side-reins were on the last hole. Well, it served its purpose and now Dino needs to bring his poll up and eventually carry it as the highest level. Therefore the side-reins are attached on the second ring from the bottom, and have been taken in to the third hole.)

4th Annual Secretariat Festival

Number 1 Stall at Claiborne Farm, September 24, 2011.

I had heard about the Secretariat Festival when it first started and always said I would love to attend. Last year I did because it fell during the time I was in Lexington for the World Equestrian Games. I had so much fun and enjoyed it so much that I figured I would attend every year as it falls around my birthday and it would be a treat to myself. When the dates were announced this year I thought, "Money's a little tight...I should probably skip it." But then they announced that Penny Chenery, Secretariat's owner, would be there and I knew immediately I was going. So I went ahead and my requested time off from work, booked my hotel (THANK YOU, Priceline!!) and made my reservation to tour Claiborne Farm.

I had such an amazing time! Met some wonderful people, re-connected with others, and stood in line for 3-hours to meet Miss Penny. If you have found this blog because of Secretariat and are unfamiliar with this festival, sign up for the newsletter on their website (scroll down to the bottom of the page). I was told about a big announcement in the next few months... ;)

A few weeks ago, I was trimming Dino's tail and I kept what I trimmed off. While I was visiting Claiborne Farm, I asked an employee if I could leave the hair behind. They were kind enough to allow me to do so. This is probably my favorite picture from the whole trip.

One of my favorite things about going to Kentucky is simply going to a bookstore! Because its 'horse country' it is so much easier to find books and dvds. This time I came home with three books: Horsepower: A Memoir, Jane Savoie's Dressage 101, and Kottas on Dressage. I also got three new dvds: The Life & Times of Secretariat, Zenyatta: A Living Legend, and John Henry: The Steel Driving Racehorse.

Back to topic: Dino is well. He has put on a lot of weight since switching solely to alfalfa hay. His right lead canter is about 75-80% consistent now. I'm itching to try it under saddle, but we've had nothing but rain lately. Figures. But I do have a new goal for next year: canter serpentines, probably just a three loop with simple changes in the middle. I know it sounds so simple to some people, but it would be a huge accomplishment for Dino and myself, and I'm looking forward to the challenge! :)

August Update

That's really how it goes, doesn't it? A once a month update....shameful.

On the one hand a lot has been going on and on the other, not much. Shortly after camp, I was turning the horses out for the night. I don't know if I did something or if Angel saw something, but she spooked. I was leading her out by her halter, so when she spooked, she reared back taking me with her. This is my #1 recurrent injury: a horse rearing back and me getting my arm virtually yanked out of my shoulder socket. It's like a whiplash and hurts for days. This time was no different, I couldn't lift my arm up or hold anything with a weight to it without my shoulder screaming. Not sure what I did, I rarely ever go to the doctor for one I'm cheap (I'll admit it when it comes to me, I'd rather skip and splurge on my horses) and two I don't like to sound crazy. I learned a long time ago that regaling the nursing staff with detailed stories of previous horse related injures, like they can't just look it up in my file, and that fact that I continue to do it, makes me sound crazy.

After I had healed up and was ready to ride, Dino got hurt. I'm still not sure what he did, I had gone down to feed in the morning, the horses had been in their stalls, and Dino had fresh blood on his front left. It looked like a puncture wound, but wasn't and it came up from the bottom. Nothing in his stall revealed the source for the injury. The 'cut' itself was between the inferior check ligament and the deep digital flexor tendon, right above the suspensory ligament. Dino's leg was extremely swollen and tender. At first I cleaned it with betadine solution and treated it with Well-Horse and continued to keep it clean for days and it just wouldn't get any better. Not only am I cheap, I'm also a hypochondriac when it comes to my horses and I was slowly convincing myself that Dino had a flesh eating bacteria. So I changed tactics; gave Dino bute (1 gram was upped to 2 grams) and applied fura-zone and that's when the heat showed up in his leg. Cold hosing didn't make it any better and stall rest made it even worse, so I switched tactics and applied cool pack green jelly. By this time the 'cut' had healed with the help of blue lotion, but the swelling, tenderness and heat had remained. Within a 48 hours of using the jelly, Dino's leg returned to normal and he returned to light work on the third day. The unusual part in all of this, Dino was never lame but I certainly was not going to try and take any chances.

Dino's leg on August 8.


Dino's leg on August 31.

Dino has now returned to light work, not because he's sore or anything, but because we have nothing else on the agenda this year, shows or clinics, and winter is coming so I'm backing off the workload now. Right around three times a week he's being worked and currently only on the lunge line. I'm really focusing on picking up the right lead in the canter and keeping the consistency. We're about a 60, maybe 65%, consistent in getting the lead the first time everytime. When we get to 80%, I'll go back to riding him and work on getting the right lead under-saddle.

Which then takes me to the inevitable yearly question: "To board or not to board?"

Fear Is A Funny Thing

The "Tao" is often described as a path, or way, to clarity. There are those who need guidance to move forward; and there are those who know the way in their bones. The latter seem to possess an uncluttered vision and intensity of commitment that light the way for others, as well as themselves.

- Unknown

I've mentioned my accident here in passing, but have yet to go into details. Today just happens to be the eighth anniversary.

Eight years later I still dream about my accident and in my dreams, it is all still very real. I can feel the wind in my face as we gallop, feel the rhythmic pounding of Angel's hooves, feel her pull on the reins silently asking to be let loose. I can hear her deep breaths and be lost in that world I so dearly love. Then it happens. I feel Angel stumbling. Over and over and over. I try and stay still, stay out of her way and let her find her footing. I feel myself flying through the air, and then the impact. The bone jarring impact that grips my heart with fear. I wake up with a start. Drenched in a cold sweat with my heart pounding in my chest.

July 26, 2003, Saturday, 7:30PM.
What I did was stupid, I shouldn't have done it and it was completely my fault. I wanted to let Angel out and gallop her a little bit. She had been cranky during our ride and I knew running full out was what she wanted. I knew when we reached the end of the straightway she veers sharply to the left, this is because the next field is so over-grown with undergrowth. We started out smoothly, within two strides Angel was in stride and moving comfortably, almost without effort. When we reached the end, she veered and I tighten up on the right rein and stepped into my right stirrup. I wanted to keep her straight, or as much as possible. In my mind, she was going too fast for that sharp of a turn and for sure she'd lose her footing and go down with me. She obeyed the rein and went into the field, where she took this huge step and stumbled to her knees. I lost my balance and let go of my right rein to steady myself. Angel kept stumbling and I kept waiting for the impact of her flipping over and possibly killing us both. I don't know how she did it, as if it was by magic, she regained her footing and then veered at what seemed like a 90º angle. It all happened so fast, her change in direction, and my clinging to the rein for balance. I was slipping and knew I faced a good chance of coming off. But in the back of my mind, I thought I could still save myself. Then it happened. The pressure on her mouth from the bit and my hanging on, Angel did probably the only thing possible - she flung her head to the left. It was like a bungee action or a snapping of a rubber band. She continued left and I flew to the right. I remember being so close to her thundering hooves and knowing there was a great chance I was going to be trampled under them. We were going so fast. My arms stretched out in front of me, my legs stretched out behind me; rendering it impossible to bring them back to my body for protection. With this knowledge in front of me, I knew I wasn't going to be able to go into a ball and roll with the impact. I also knew that at the speed and angle that I was at, I was going to break my neck and get killed. I didn't have a helmet on and landed face first going through the weeds. The only thing that I could think of to still save myself was to duck my left shoulder and throw myself into a ball. If I could do that, the worse that would happen would be a dislocated shoulder or a broken collar-bone. But I did it wrong, or maybe it didn't matter. When I hit the ground, I got whipped around and stopped. Just stopped.

The next thing that I remember was looking up into the clear blue sky with big fluffy white clouds. That's a good sign, I thought. But I knew something was wrong when I couldn't move and couldn't yell for help. I was behind a cornfield and no one saw me fall. My first sensation was nothing. I couldn't feel a single thing below my shoulders. Before panic could set in, pain started to fill my senses. I slowly moved my fingers, hands, neck, took a deep breath...and then nothing. I felt everything fine above the waist, it was below that was the problem. Before I could stop myself, panic did set in and I thought for sure I was paralyzed. Then ever so slow, an incredible pain started to filter its self in. As I took in my surroundings, I found myself surrounded by thick weeds and underbrush. And to add insult to injury, I stopped in a poison ivy bush. But Angel was no where to be seen. I had always wondered if Angel would stick around if I came off, now I knew. I was wrong. In actuality, Angel ran to the closest house, our neighbors, into their garage and when they went to grab her, she took off heading back towards me before going home on her own and into her stall. (Later a nurse was kind of enough to tell me that she thought Angel was trying to get me help my going to the neighbors first, years later I believe it.) My brother found me first and I told them to call 911. It seemed like ages before the ambulance got there. Then it was pure torture, them trying to move me into the ambulance and getting me to the hospital. They couldn't physically pick me up, so they had to slid a sheet under me and move me on to the stretcher that way.

My x-rays showed that I had broken my femur, at the point of the break my femur had shattered and both broken ends split down the middle, re-broke and came through the skin. When it came down to it, my femur was broken in four spots and I had a dislocated hip. I was in need of emergency surgery if my leg was to be saved. The orthopedic doctor at the county hospital was on call and wasn't returning the page, so around 1:30 a call was placed to Med Corp to transfer me to a level 1 trauma hospital that had the staff and specialist I would need. It was around 2:30am by the time Med Corp picked me up for the transfer and another hour before I got to the other hospital, where I was admitted through the ER. Seven hours had now passed.

Since I had been on so much morphine, the ER couldn't give me anything else but needed to stabilize me and more importantly my leg. I was given a local to numb me and with me being fully awake they drilled a hole through my tibia (right below the knee) to place a pin for traction. I was told prior that I wouldn't remember anything, that's half true. I don't remember the pain, but I'll never forget the sound of drill and breaking bone. I also don't remember screaming bloody murder, but I'm told that I did. From there on out, till after my surgery, everything is very blurry. I slept pretty much all the time and anything that did happen seems like a surreal dream now. I do remember being in prep for surgery and seeing my parents and brother there. During the surgery, 19 hours after my accident, they placed a titanium rod with two screws attached to my leg and a pin in my hip. Instead of stitches, I received 30 staples.

That Monday I started physical therapy, they wanted to get me up and walking around. My breathing was so hard, and it was during surgery, that they found that I couldn't be off oxygen.

I remember Tuesday being all round rough. I was told just how sick I was and that without enough oxygen, I could have permanent damage done to my brain and heart. They feared that my lungs where severely damaged and failing on me. Another x-ray of my chest was ordered. It was hell. My temperature rose to 103.5 and my blood pressure dropped to 93 over 60.

Wednesday they got the results of my x-ray and said that nothing was showing up. Back to physical therapy I went. That night though, they decided that since I wasn't getting better, that a blood transfusion might be best for me. Since my leg was broken for so long, they feared that some bone marrow had gotten into my bloodstream and was causing all the damage. The transfusion started at 5pm and ended at midnight. It was after the transfusion that I finally broke down and cried. It was the first time that I had cried during this whole ordeal. Gail, my 3rd shift nurse, encouraged me to cry, she said that it would probably make me feel better getting it out. It didn't make me feel any better.

Thursday my main doctor came in and told me that I could go home. I was happy and scared at them same time. I was discharged with enough drugs to make a hungry lion content.

In the beginning, I couldn't walk, not even on crutches. I got around with my wheelchair or walker. Two weeks after my accident, my staples were removed. That was horrible, it was like someone was performing hair removal with tweezers.

You truly don't realize how lucky you are that you can do something till it's ripped out of your hands. Nor do you realize how precious life is till you almost lose it. I know that I was very lucky, my first thought was I'm gonna get killed and then it was I'm gonna be paralyzed - all because of the angle and speed I fell at, the doctors figured I hit the ground going 30 -35 mph. We were almost full out, Angel was 16.2hh and weighed over 1200-lbs. So many things could have gone wrong. Angel could have stumbled and flipped right over landing on top of me, she could have lost her balance and fell when I fell and rolled over on me, my foot could have slipped in the stirrup and I couldn't have been drugged, etc, etc. There is so much and believe me I was truly scared whenever I thought about it, which was all the time.

I was also so embarrassed that this happened. Even I would like to think that I'm a better rider than this and would have stayed on, much less had enough common sense to not have done this. Angel probably knew about the undergrowth and that's why she veered, but I didn't listen and made her go into the field. Embarrassment turned into fear, scared that I wouldn't ride again and what kind of rider I would be.

After my accident I threw myself into school. I had four weeks to get from a wheelchair to crutches so that I could go back to school. Not to mention being able to get in and out of a vehicle that I could drive. More than two months after my accident, I re-broke my leg. It really sent me into a deep depression. It was such a set back, that mentally I didn't think I could handle it. There were days that my biggest challenge was getting out of bed. I didn't want to. I really just wanted to give up.

Of course you don't give up. You find the strength inside of yourself to pull through. Even though I was told I couldn't ride for a year, I was back on a horse (Sancho) exactly five weeks after my accident. My Dad had taken his saddle and one of my saddles down to the basement, knowing full well I couldn't get up and down stairs. My new saddle, he took the stirrups off and hung them up in the barn while placing the saddle in my closet. He obviously didn't know who he was messing with, a girl on a mission who needed to heal the only way she knew how: on the back of a horse.

I had convinced my Dad that I could lunge Sancho and asked for his jaquima, a Colombian headstall with reins, a bit holder and pisador (known as a life-line, can be used to tie the horse, lead or lunge), I had everything I needed to lunge Sancho, and ride him, albeit bareback. My Dad and brother, who was visiting that day, watched me for a short time and then went back to their work. Our pasture is in the shape of an upside down 'L' with the barn in front. I led Sancho to the back, tied him to the fence post and shimmed between the electric wires. I then rolled three cinder blocks under the fence and shimmed back. I stacked two cinder blocks on top of each other and used the other as a first step. It must have taken me, what felt like 20 minutes, to gather enough courage to get on and Sancho wasn't happy. He's only 13.2 hh and wasn't use to a 'mounting block', so he had started to dance around. I knew it was now or never, so I threw myself across Sancho's back. Who took that exact moment to bolt forward. I somehow managed to straighten myself and was faced with the an unimaginable pain; my broken leg was dangling against Sancho's side.

My brother was outside in the barn driveway working on his 1987 Monte Carlo, he didn't even look up as I rode by, just said, "You are going to get it..." Another trip earned me my Mother running out of the house, yelling, "You get off that horse right this minute!!!" Which got my Dad's attention inside the barn.

Let me just say, it was much easier to get on than it was to get off.

I didn't ride Angel for years. I couldn't breathe once I got on and would hold my breath during moments of stress. However, I knew I wasn't afraid to ride, I rode Sancho all the time, but it wasn't the same. I can't pin point when I lost the intense passion I had for horses and riding that I had growing up. It was before my accident, I know that much. There were days that I looked out the window into my pasture and saw Angel and Sancho grazing. I was longing to be the rider I once was, the girl that could ride any horse, who wouldn't bat an eye at a large jump, and thrived on the deafening sound from the crowd after a flawless ride. I didn't know what happened to her; was she asleep inside me, had she died, did I kill her off?

But then along came Dino, and slowly but surely I feel her reemerging.

Angel and I before the accident.

Sometimes, I question my own sanity

My favorite picture of Sancho.

Especially when it comes to Sancho. Over the last 12 years I have often wondered why I bought him and, more importantly, why have I kept him. I got Sancho when he nearly 12 and I was his fifth (maybe sixth) owner.

Sancho was foaled on August 3, 1987 and registered under the name Intimador de NFC. His first recorded owner was Sandra Erwin, of National Family Care Life Insurance Company (Dallas, TX), on August 29, 1989. I question if Mrs Erwin was the breeder/owner of Sancho because while she is the first registered owner, why did it take over two years to finally register him? I had thought somewhere in all of Sancho's papers he was bred and foaled in Oklahoma, but now I can't find that bit of information.

Sancho's second registered owner was Hacienda Classico in New Orleans (LA) on May 16, 1990. It was there that Sancho saw the rise and fall of his breeding career:

• May 5, 1992, buckskin colt, Intochable de Classico
• April 5, 1993, chestnut colt, Blaze de Classico
• April 8, 1993, bay colt, Starlite de Classico
• April 11, 1993, gray filly, Diamante de Classico
• May 4, 1993, bay colt, Virtuoso de Classico

Sancho's third registered owner was Hacienda de la Sol in Franklinton (LA) on December 20, 1993.

Sancho's fourth registered owner was Karen Williams in Liberty (TX) on October 31, 1997.

I met Sancho on June 5, 1999 and I purchased him on July 21, 1999. I have now owned him for more than half his life. From the beginning, it has never been easy. I don't recommend anyone buying a horse like I did with Sancho, it was crazy stupid. Nor do I ever recommend buying a horse in such a condition, it was crazy insane.

6/5/99-SANCHO-new horse arrived by van last night. No one was present when van dropped off horse, this AM he was found to have about 5" laceration RR (Right Rear) caudal (back of) pastern, also has other wounds on RR. (Little abrasions here and there, except for one; located on the front of the RR cannon bone, it looked like someone took an ice cream scooper and scooped all the way down to the bone. It was the size of a 50cent coin) Exam: horse quite painful, slightly dehydrated, non wt (weight) bearing RR. Romp/torb to clean wounds. Pastern wound is quite deep, excessive swelling makes it difficult to assess completely. Wound extends medially to inside of pastern. Gave TT, Pen IM. After cleaning wounds, wrapped RR pastern & lower limb w/biozide & epsom salts, owner (Marsha or Peggy) has already given 3gm (grams) of bute (horse asprin) PO. Rec: 2gm tomorrow & next day. Plan: recheck in 2 days & suture at that time. May have to anesthestize w/Ketamine. Dispense 100 SMZTMP, (horse penicillin) Rx: 10 BID, (10 pills three times a day) start tonight.

I was suppose to be there when the horses were dropped off. It was around 10pm when I called my boss and told her the horses still weren't there. She told me to leave that isle of lights on and a note instructing the haulers on where to put Sancho and Mariah, a Classic Fino mare we were also expecting. I had to work at my other job the next morning, got off around 2pm and went out to the barn. Jake was there and told me that I just missed the vet and to go check out the new gelding. From there I got the story: Louise was feeding that morning and noticed the new gelding standing in the far corner of his stall. At a closer look, she noticed blood and cuts on his back right so she went and called the barn manager to let her know. The BM (barn manager) came out and then called B (my boss) and the vet. The pastern wound was so deep that a man could easily fit two fingers inside the laceration. It was just millimeters from the artery in the leg; he would have bled to death. There was nothing in his stall to produce such cuts on him. A claim from B and the BM was that there was blood in the driveway and that the haulers must of had trouble and just left him that way. I never saw blood out there and the haulers denied leaving the horse in such a condition. Sancho was completely freaked, didn't want anyone near him. I remember standing outside the stall door looking at him when B approached me and said that she expected me to care for this horse back to health. I took the responsibility fully.

6/7/99-SANCHO-recheck wound RR, swelling has receded significantly, but does not appear to be amenable to suturing. (The skin just hung over his hoof, suturing was impossible because everytime he would flex and move the stitches would get ripped out. It had to heal from the inside out) Horse is slightly lame at a walk but is using foot normally. Flexor tendons appear to be functional. (We thought they had been damaged) Cleaned & re-bandaged leg, dispensed betadine scrub & biozide gel. Showed owner (B and myself) how to clean & wrap. Dispensed another 100 SMZTMP. Recheck next wk.

6/18/99-SANCHO-recheck RR, wound has granulated in (blood vessels that rise above the surface, also known as 'proud flesh'; reminds me of cauliflower *yuck*), horse walks favoring the leg. Rec: use trypzyme spray to control proud flesh & begin more exercise for physical therapy.

6/30/99-SANCHO-disp Trypzyme spray for wound, horse reportedly doing well.

Every single day I was there changing Sancho's bandages, hand walking him, grooming him, and loving on him to trust again. I even cleaned his stall, because no one else could do it like it needed to be - seriously. It stunk like no one can imagine. Since the injuries were so bad, Sancho couldn't be on sawdust (the small wood chips could bring on infection if they got into the wounds) so we kept him on straw. One day, I was called down to look at something in his stall and nearly got sick. The floor, which was clay, was almost a solid white -- from maggots!! I laid into people for doing such a lousy job on an injured horse's stall. That's when I took full control of Sancho, his care and rehab. I'd drive the 45 miles out to the vet's to pick up medicine for Sancho - medicine kept in my refrigerator at home, I called the vet weekly to give her updates on his condition, and when he needed new bandages, I went and bought them with my own money.

When potential buyers would come through the barn, B would always show them Sancho. He was well liked, but because of his injuries we didn't know if he'd ever be sound enough to ride again. So no one really showed enough interest in buying him. I had a few thousand dollars in my savings and kept telling myself that it was foolish to buy another horse. Then on July 21, 1999, B called me at the barn. Sancho's owner in Texas had called and wanted him sold or send back. B wanted to let me know and said she'd hate to see me lose him. I fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. I knew Sancho was originally $8,000, but we were going to sell him for $5,000, because of his injuries we had lowered the price to $3,000. For the next 15 minutes it was phone tag between the owner in Texas and B, and myself and B. Finally, B calls me and says, "What can you spend?" And off the top of my head I said, "$1,500." "OK, you just got yourself a horse," is all I heard her say. I didn't know what to say, I didn't even think before I said it, and my parents knew nothing. The next day, B was going on vacation and told me I could just deposit the money into her account, she gave the number and everything and I did it. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I got had.

Sancho, Paso Fino, geld, DOB 1994
Kelly bought Sancho from B.
8/6/99-SANCHO-rechec wound RR paster, still carries some swelling even though Kelly keeps it wrapped. May always be thick due to where injury is. Wound still healing, looks good, no proud flesh. Rec: continue granulex spray, keep leg open when Sancho is turned out but bandage if in stall.

I had Sancho a full month before my parents found out and they wanted to kill me. Once again B was on vacation and out of touch for me. Louise was feeding that Saturday morning and called me at 8am. She told me to sit down and said, "A lady just called here. Her name is Karen. She claims that she is Sancho's owner and is going to be sending a van to pick him up. I told her about you, how you bought him from B and how you've been nursing him back to health...she didn't even know that he was injured. She's going to be calling you, I gave her your number so that you two can talk."

About an hour later, Karen called me and it was all true. I was heart broken. B had lied to me about everything. Sancho wasn't a 5year old gelding, he was a 12year old gelding, Karen knew nothing about Sancho being in a trailer accident and didn't OK his sale price to be so low. We talked several times that day. Then Karen surprised me when she said that she didn't really want him back, they never clicked and she was afraid to ride him. By this time, I've only ridden Sancho once or twice and it was only for a few minutes. It was on this day that I had to come clean about my buying Sancho to my parents and everything started to fall apart.

I started getting phone calls from perfect strangers claiming they owned this horse or that horse and how B had scammed them. Then one night it hit me. I was so stressed and tired, and I remembered what B told me: That every horse that comes into her barn, she places insurance on them - just in case something happens. A way to compensate the owners if you will. The haulers denied Sancho had been injured in their care, Louise found Sancho that way, B and the BM claimed there were pools of blood in the driveway that morning, and Karen knew nothing. What if Sancho was worth more dead to B than alive? Would she really injure a horse in the hopes of it dying to collect on the money? I was hearing so many stories, saw so many things while working there, heard B say things, and we had owners coming in the middle of the night to take back their horses. Adding all of this up told me that something wasn't right and I was in way over my head. It would have been the perfect alibi for B to move Sancho, re-sell him and accuse Karen of stealing him back, all the while leaving me with a knife in my back.

I needed a change and I needed an out. Driving home one night, an ad was on the radio for a local community college and their open registration for the next day. I thought about it all night and the next morning, then I decided I was going. I picked up enough classes that it made it hard for me to be at the barn so much. I was slowly dissocializing myself from everyone. B knew something was up and her checks started bouncing. At the same time, I was working on my parents to move Sancho home. Since B's checks were bouncing it helped me convince my parents that I needed to get out of that barn and get Sancho home. On September 26, 1999, Louise did me a favor and hauled Sancho home for me. I was free (for a little while at least) from B and her lies, and I had Sancho safely home.

Karen claimed that she never got her money from B and B's stories kept changing. I understood when Karen told me that she wouldn't sign Sancho over to me and never argued it or seeked legal help in obtaining his papers. There was so much fighting going on and lawyers involved, then on top of that the FBI calling me, I was just happy I got out and still had Sancho. At one point, B even called me and gave me 'friendly' advice, "Don't get involved by talking to these people, if I go down you're going down with me..." But her and the BM didn't stop there, they bad mouthed me all over the area. I just disappeared and waited it all out. Quickly they both lost credibility. B was run out of the area, and has been bad mouthed all over the horse community, and thanks to the digital age: the internet. Honestly, I have no bad feelings towards her, I just wish things hadn't turned as nasty as they did.

On August 3, 2001, Sancho's 14th birthday, I got a phone call. Karen was signing and sending Sancho's papers to me and all I had to do was sign them and send them in to the PFHA. Sancho was mine, all mine - finally!

Today, Sancho is a happy guy. He's my Boi. My big (albeit, little) tough gelding that thinks he's all that, but scoots with his tail between his legs when you yell at him. Not once in the last 12 years has he been lame on that leg and not once have I had any other problems with that leg. As a matter of fact, you have to look closely to see anything. It looks virtually normal. He walks into a trailer fine and hauls comfortably. Everything that he shouldn't be able to do, he does. Off and on through the years, he has been for sale; and each time I deliberately placed the asking price too high.
.....
As I was thinking about writing this entry I tried to conjure up any emotion and I have none that just jumps out. There is pride, joy, love, admiration, sadness; Sancho came into my life at such a crucial turning point. There's also frustration. Sancho is not easy to get along with and I often joke (kinda) that I understand why he was sold so much, he's just plain difficult. I can't remember all the times I got angry phones calls because Sancho couldn't be caught and brought in from the pasture. Or how many times and DAYS that he lived outdoors because he couldn't be caught...okay, I think he eclipsed 30 days at one time. By then I wasn't trying, I didn't care and then he suddenly did care...but I still didn't care and he continued to live outside. But in the end, he has constantly redeemed himself as my "go-to" horse.

After my riding accident and I wanted to start riding again, it was Sancho who helped me heal. When I wanted to experience parade riding, I took Sancho - who always loves a crowd, the larger the better.When I wanted to get back out there going to shows and clinics, Sancho was perfect the horse. Challenging Sancho with dressage, found he loved it and he quickly moved up schooling second/third level movements. He can perform a shoulder-fore, shoulder-in, leg-yield, half-pass, walking pirouette, turn on the haunches, haunches-in, etc., best of all he performs them correctly.

While dressage may seem crazy to some and fun to others, my personal favorite was hitting the trails. Over a five year period, Sancho and I racked up nearly a 1,000 miles. I taught him to jump up to 3', over ditches, and up and down banks. He is road safe, ATV safe, bike-roller blade-skate board safe, barking-chasing dog sane, and it took some work (okay a LOT of work) but Sancho crosses water, too. It doesn't even matter where Sancho is in the group, he can lead, bring up the rear or be somewhere in the middle - its all the same to him. Best of all six, seven or eight hours later I'm not sore like other members of our group. ;)

So yes, I bought Sancho on a whim.

Yes, I have had him for sale numerous times over the years.

And yes, he does frustrate me like no one other.

But much like how I think Dino and I were meant to find each other, with the passing of time I think the same of Sancho and myself. And in the end, this is his home, his forever home and I can't imagine not having him now. He's a part of my life and I'd like to think I'm apart of his.

Slippery Elm Trail, Sancho's and mine's favorite place to ride. It's paved the entire way, allowing me to lose myself to the music created by Sancho's hooves.

Flexibility...HA!!

A wonderful character trait to possess, when dealing with horses, is flexibility. Without flexibility you'll find failure a lot more than success. Two examples: the day's lesson and the weather....you didn't see the weather coming, did you?

Now if you're lucky, you'll have a horse that will be flexible with you. Dino and I have differing opinions on this, he thinks not so much when it comes to flexibility. Just yesterday we had such a disagreement. The footing had dried enough, or at least in one spot, that I could work on a 15-meter circle. My plan: walk-trot just to get him moving and loosen him up. The reality: as soon as we walked into the pasture it started sprinkling. Are_you_kidding_me? I looked up to the sky and saw the storm clouds were moving Northwest. Pssst it'll pass, no biggie I thought. I was wrong, so very wrong. In the end, I didn't care. Dino did.

At the first sign of bad weather, Dino is of the school of thought: stop and seek shelter. I'm of the school of thought: suck it up and get it done. My other two horses, Angel and Sancho, would say, "Okay, if we must." "Yes, you must," I say. With Dino it goes more like this:
Dino: "No."
Me: "Yes."
Dino: "I don't want to..."
Me: "I don't really care what you want, I say yes."
Dino: "Funny you should say that, because I don't really care what you want. I say no."
Me: "I can and will make this difficult for you."
Dino: "Yeah, like I can't do the same to you."
Me: "YES!!"
Dino: "NO!!!"

An hour later, and thoroughly soaked, I was desperate to find a good stopping point. Dino was tired and nothing good was coming from our work, so as soon as I found a minuscule of good, we were done. Walking and cooling out was pointless, the flies were nasty and chased us back to the barn. Dino got a bath and then I spent close to an hour hand grazing him.

I am quite proud of Dino, we were able to work through this while a year ago this would have resulted in a full out temper tantrum. Dino would have acted up and turned nasty, I would have grown upset and overwhelmed. No, I'm not just proud of Dino, I'm proud of us together as a team.

I should point out that if your horse is acting reluctant to work, make sure there is not a reason behind it; something physically wrong with the horse or improper tack fitting. You can't ignore the signs your horse is giving you, every moment you are with your horse, s/he is telling you something and you are teaching it something. Ignoring the signs can lead to a lot of problems down the road. I knew why Dino was acting up, he doesn't like his ears wet. Silly, I know, but it's true. Whenever it rains and I insist on keep going, he does this and he also does this when it comes time to bathe him. He's fine if I'm on his body or his face, but creep up his neck to his ears and watch out!

Don't tell Dino, but the day he doesn't even act up when it rains, is the day I won't even make him work. It's all about flexibility and we can't control the weather, just how we react to it.