I promised I would do the conclusion, did I not? I usually try and deliver....
I spent much of the day Saturday waffling on if I was going to ride Sunday or not. I knew I wasn't riding Strider, but I had Dakini. I even went and changed my entry to her.
And kept waffling. And talked myself out of it.
Joe had to work his volunteer police gig Sunday. I had surgery scheduled on Monday. And, I know Dakini could have done the distance (27.5 miles), but...I was just fried emotionally and mentally and not on my game. So I decided as I went to bed Saturday night I was heading home Sunday.
Which is exactly what I did.
I was able to break camp fairly quickly and easily, despite some SNAFUs getting out of camp (a truck and trailer parked right where I needed to drive to get OUT and a car also in the way). Stood and talked with a friend's husband for a little bit...cleaned up the pen area as well as possible...loaded the kids and headed for home in a daze.
I honestly don't remember much of the drive home. I'm usually kind of zoned out, and I'm sure I was still decompressing the ride itself. And turning my mind from "Ride weekend" to "I have surgery tomorrow!"
Unloaded the kids at the barn. Noticed Dakini had pooped in the trailer...and, disconcertingly, Strider had not. When I unloaded him, he ran off into his pen, bucking and farting, and then ran and grabbed a BIG drink of water. Rolled. Acted utterly and completely normal. I thought back, remembered seeing a fresh pile of poop by the trailer after I loaded. Told myself it was his, and then dashed off a message to a friend who had also been at Shanghai to see if she could look in on him when she dropped her boy off to make sure he was okay.
So, Monday is surgery. I'm not even wasting my time talking about it. Surgery is what surgery is. Sayonara gall bladder!!
But, Monday evening I get a text; "Your horse is lame."
I get this a LOT. Figured he was just sore from whatever he'd done to his left front, so fired a message back "Sure he's just sore from the ride. Thanks for letting me know! I'll check on him as soon as I can." And then I promptly passed back out in that post-anesthesia haze.
Tuesday afternoon late, a new friend I met at the ride who is leasing one of my friend's horses says "He's lame."
Told her "Yeah, I hear that a LOT. I'm sure he's fine."
"No, he's LAME. Right front. Want me to send a video?"
And she does.
And I lose my mind. Oh yeah. He's LAME. And I start to cry. I can't get to the barn. I cannot PHYSICALLY do ANYTHING for him because I'm not supposed to DO anything.
She's pretty sure it's the nails.
After seeing these photos, I agree.
Can you see what I see?
That nail RIGHT there is what we suspect was part of the problem.
Not going to lie, I started calling in favors I probably had no right to. I was in a state of panic and hysteria. My new friend said she'd pull it, but didn't have the right tools.
Thankfully, my amazing farrier, who had JUST gotten home from a long day of trimming horses looked at my pictures of it after listening to me, said at first she'd check him tomorrow, but after seeing the video said "I'm going right now to pull those shoes and see if that helps."
So she, her son and, well, basically her "crew" rolled over to my barn, relieved my new friend from the whole thing and pulled his shoes.
She noticed that he'd ripped off a large flap of sole, but even after removing shoes, while he was better, he wasn't sound.
Obviously. :(
So, suggestion of call the vet and go from there.
Which I did on Wednesday morning at around 8:10am.
Now, we'd had a NASTY storm Tuesday night (this did NOT in any way reduce my anxiety or concern for him), so the wonderful vet at OnCallVet said I would be shuffled in as soon as possible, but it would be in the afternoon. I explained to them that I physically could NOT be there due to my surgery. Now, I had friends at the barn volunteering to hold him for the vet and offering to help (just thinking about the outpouring of generosity makes my heart swell). THANKFULLY my farrier happened to be trimming at the barn when the vet made it out there, so she was able to hold and tell me what was what.
Due to the unshapeable ability of composite shoes, we feel that he got a hot nail in. NOT my shoer's fault. Just the way those shoes are made, they do not work for Strider. So, vet said remove the back shoes (we'd left them on HOPING we could salvage and reset...not doing it though), antibiotics and to use his sole paint to toughen him up.
Holly went to get the sole paint for me (did I mention my farrier is an angel here on Earth? Genuinely and truly sincere) on Saturday from the vet's office, and Joe and I met her at the barn that Saturday to see it go on.
Now, to wait. To let the antibiotics do their job. To let the sole paint do IT'S job. And for me to figure out what on earth to do next for his feet.
My gut says "Just go steel shod. Pad for rocky rides. Stop fussing with composites."
So, with that said...anyone want to buy 2 BRAND NEW un-used Ground Control shoes in Size 0? Teal. I happen to have some. *sigh*
I could hear the 50's prepping for their day, and had a moment where I was longing to be going out with them. But, I settled back in for about 30 more minutes to sleep and just relax before getting out of bed and getting ready to go out and get ready.
I had left Strider's rain sheet on him all night, and he was a little sweaty beneath it.
I didn't give him any grain or breakfast, just threw fresh hay to him and Dakini. Made sure that Dakini would have lots of water and pulled him out and tacked him up.
The prepping process was the smoothest it has ever been. We were quickly saddled and I made sure I had everything I would need; my Garmin, phone set to airplane mode to run Endomondo, 4 bottles of water in my Stowaway packs. I was ready.
So, I actually stepped into the stirrup around 7:10ish and we started walking around to warm up.
The mood was quiet and subdued. I checked in and kept doing loops near the trailer and vet check area.
This was the best Strider has ever done for me. He was grazing on grass. He was calm and relaxed. He wasn't crying for Dakini (she sure was crying for him and acting like a fool).
And then, oh irony of ironies, a loose horse came into our milling pack of horses. It wanted to make friends with Strider, which was fine...he was well behaved, it was well behaved, but trying to corral it into the barn was a bit of a pain. Someone finally managed to get it into the barn, but at that point Strider realized Dakini was back at camp and he started acting up. *sigh* So much for our calm and easy warm up. I kept him doing circles and loops near our camp, but that was just amping him up. The complete OPPOSITE of what I wanted to happen.
So, about 2 or 3 minutes after trail was called open and the hot foots left, I went out on my own. No one before us (well, I could see them, but there was a good distance) and no one really behind us at the start.
It was glorious. He was strong. He was also fast. Part of the problem was that after we crossed the first cattle guard (they laid down plywood so we could cross safely), we got passed by a pair of riders, and Strider just locked on to them and wouldn't stop chasing after them. He was mad as hell that I wouldn't let him have his head so he could race them down. I will say that he DOES listen in an S-Hack, though sometimes I have to "see-saw" the reins some to get him to come back and listen to me.
The first two miles are open. OPEN. We're on a dirt road with plowed fields on both sides, so you can see every horse ahead and behind of you.
The first trough was about 2 miles in, and he had ZERO interest. He was more irritated that the two horses he had been "chasing" were now out of sight as we crossed from open fields into forest.
Glancing down at my Garmin, we were going faster than we'd ever gone before. Solid 7-9 mph and we usually condition at a solid 5.5-6ish. I should have INSISTED he slow it down, but I didn't.
We hit our second water trough maybe 7 or 8 miles in. He stopped and drank some from it. But, he'd seen a group ahead of us leave as we came up, and was more intent on catching up to them.
But he was happy to move down the trails. And I allowed it with occasional "checks" to remind him he isn't an Arabian with their innate skill at this sport.
Photo credited to John Nowell. Original purchased.
As you can see, he is happy, I am happy. He is barely sweating at this point. We look STRONG as a team together!!
So, we're moving out alone on a portion of trail. I've dumped water on his neck occasionally, sponged out of occasional puddles (it was HOT and HUMID). We were doing great.
Then we hit a section of trail where we had to go down through a culvert. There was a tree immediately to my left, large chunks of broken concrete to my right and some rocks to traverse. He charged over it, and as we popped up the other side, I felt him jerk and almost go down on his front left.
I immediately hopped off and inspected his leg, the shoe, made sure he didn't have a rock under his shoe. Checked for heat. Nothing. Bad stumble? Not sure. So, I lead him and he gimped and gimped. I wanted to cry. And scream. We were a little over mid-way through a 14.1 mile loop!!
Instead, I walked him. Some friends came up behind us, asked if we were okay. Said I was going to hand walk him and see how we were. They said he looked okay, but weren't real sure as they're not familiar with gaited horses (they have a Missouri Foxtrotter). I told them not to wait on us, keep moving and we'd just walk and see what happened.
And so we walked. And walked. We walked some more. I stopped to take advantage of the fact I was on the ground and took a potty break. He seemed to be walking out with confidence again, so I opted to hop back on and go at a walk for a bit, and see how he felt.
So we walked some. Then went back to gaiting. He was strong and fine. Okay, keep it easy.
As you can see, I was concerned and no longer happy. Our amazing ride photographer had said my friends told him I was walking, so he was shocked to see me up. I said he seemed okay at this point, so we were moving forward. And we kept going.
Photo credited to John Nowell. Original purchased.
Can you see how "squinchy" my face is. That's my "I'm concerned face". And yet, he looks strong, doesn't he? Ears forward and eager to go. Stubborn jerk.
Then as we were in an open stretch, my entire body tense and anxious and attuned for any bobble, I SWORE I saw a head bob. I immediately stopped him and jumped off again for more hand walking after checking him over once more. Nothing physically wrong I could discern. So more walking.
Walking and walking. No big deal. I sing some. Talk to myself and him some.
He seems okay again, so I get back on and repeat.
Again, I think I feel an issue so get off again. I make him stop and graze.
A horse comes up behind us, she checks to make sure we're okay, I tell her we're fine, thank you...and she moves on. Strider seems raring to go again, and won't eat anymore, so I get back on, tell him to take it easy and we play leap frog the rest of the way back to camp.
He did stop and take a GREAT drink at the water trough about 12 miles in. Which is about when he is first interested in water; usually between 10 and 15 miles is when he'll do his first drink. So that didn't set off any additional alarm bells for me.
I was fairly sure I was going to rider option, but I knew I needed to vet through.
His pulse hung and hung. I stripped his tack off (I invariably do some sort of that for warm rides). Kenny and Bobbie Jo came to help me out (learned a useful trick from Kenny to keep him from slinging his head all around which I will utilize some in the future). Take him to PR check, and he's back up a little bit. I'm trying not to get frustrated and overwhelmed when a nice lady does some TTouch on him and we finally get him into parameters.
I go to vet him through, and surprisingly enough, he gets an A on gait. A on everything but gut sounds where he gets a B.
I'm in a state of shock, and the vet suggests letting him graze on the fresh grass, get a good drink of water, so I say that's exactly my plan. I let him graze while talking to a friend. And eventually we head back to our camp site.
I put him in the pen and am talking to my friends when he lays down, as he always does, for a good roll. However, unlike normal, he stretches out and doesn't get back up again. His eyes drift closed and a friend thinks maybe he's tired and is going for a nap. My mind thinks "He never does that....but...maybe....?"
He eventually gets back up and flops to his other side and stretches out and won't get back up. At that point I KNOW this isn't normal. So I go into the pen, grab his halter and start tugging on it.
"Get up Strider. Get up."
He stays on the ground. I gently nudge him with my boot. "Get UP Strider." My emotions are starting to spiral. No. Nononononono.
One of my friends asks if she should get the vet, I tell her yes as I keep yanking at his halter "Get UP Strider, get UP Strider, get UP!!!" I'm starting to sob as my other friend and her neighbors grab a carrot stick and spank him to his feet.
He gets up and I get him out of the pen, a shaken and rattled mess. The poor head vet this weekend has been run ragged, but he comes to my camp with a bag of fluids. He listens to Strider's guts and says they've gone from a B to "Nothing/Not moving".
"Go walk and graze him. Give him some calcium and electrolytes. Bring him back as often as you want and we'll check him for you."
So that is exactly what I did.
Now, let me say this; in my mind I kept hoping we could go back out. Makes me sound heartless, doesn't it? Here's the rational behind that. If he was somehow capable of going back out, then he was okay. He wasn't hurt. I hadn't hurt him. Things were okay.
Look, I didn't say it was logical, did I? Logic had NOTHING to do with it, and my hope for a horse that wasn't hurt had EVERYTHING to do with it.
So, we walked. We walked some more. I took him back to the trailer and gave him a little alfalfa and some hay which he devoured. He also took a nice long pee. But hours ticked by and no poop. I could hear his guts burbling, but no poop. This concerned me.
I took him to the vets who checked him out and said he was improving. I finally told them I was definitely going to Rider Option. They all said they completely respected that decision, said it was a good choice and if I needed to bring him back, feel free, they'd check him again.
A few hours later, he did finally poop. And was back to his regular self.
The vet thought it was perhaps a gas colic. A friend of mind thought perhaps a water colic. Who knows, ultimately?
But it was a long, LONG afternoon. Don't misunderstand, I had a great time hanging out in camp with him, reading, taking him for walks and watching the traffic come and go all day. I was a little jealous I didn't get to go back out, but not completely torn up about it.
If you'd like to see the information for our first loop, here's the info from my Garmin: First Loop of Shanghai trails
I will say that this has been one of the hardest posts to write. Because I can see in every single step of the way what I did wrong. And for some of the steps, I wondered if it was going to come and bite me in the butt. And it did.
So, what did I learn?
FOLLOW MY PRE-RIDE ELECTROLYTE PROTOCOL!!!
For me, for 3 days leading up to the ride I go to the barn and electrolyte ANY horse I think might be going with me to a ride. I did NOT do that at ALL prior to this ride. And why? Because in my hubris and faith in my horse, I thought "Well, it's 'just' an LD. He's got this!!!" Never again. NEVER AGAIN!! Don't ever assume that because you've done it before that this time it will be okay to take a shortcut. Yes, this was our very first ride 2 years ago and he was out of shape AND we did it on the Dumor electrolytes that are more sugar than anything useful, and we ran with the front of the pack that time, BUT....it was cooler that day.
I also feel leaving his rain sheet on him all night did NOT help. I should have taken it off.
NEVER RIDE FASTER THAN YOU CONDITION!!!
I had done a total of 2, count them, 2 rides on him with his new shoes on. He was fast. He was zippy. But, I didn't take that into account on ride day. I should have insisted he go slower. I could have, in fact, waited at camp. I should have, in fact, waited at camp. But instead, I left camp and let him, for the most part, set our pace. 7-9mph was faster than we had conditioned. MUCH faster than we had conditioned. Don't fall victim to "race brain" or a horse who hunts.
I share all of this in order to educate someone else. I share all of this to learn myself! And I share all of this so that I can then share the aftermath and fall out of the next few days....which I shall share in the next day or two.
I had not planned on going so long before updating. But, I had an endurance ride the weekend of March 24th through the 26th, a scheduled surgery on Monday the 27th and then recovery time. Shuffle into all of that the disasters of horses and recovery...and time flew away from me and updating my blog fell to the wayside. I also needed time to process the events of last Friday night. I will update about how my endurance ride went, and everything that went with that and I'll briefly mention my surgery only in so much as it impacts my equine life.
Let's begin then, shall we?
So, by now, if you're in the endurance community, you are fully and completely aware of the events which occurred at the Shanghai Trails endurance ride on the night of March 24th. And if you aren't, I will preface this post by saying that a catastrophic event occurred which resulted in 3 equine deaths and multiple injuries to other horses.
I had arrived late that day, being not fully committed to going to this ride. The weather looked iffy, but at around 10am I finally decided that if it hadn't rained at that point, then I was going to the ride. So I loaded up at home, ran to get ice and a few last minute groceries and headed out to the barn. Got the horses loaded and then hit the road.
Ebony and Ivory side by side in my RedDraggin!!!
My boy Strider loaded up like a CHAMP!!
Sometimes that nose begs for a good kissie!! Love my Dakini girl!!
I fought a headwind all the way there. My truck, even loaded with my gear and two horses, usually averages about 11mpg. This time, we averaged about 8.5mpg on the way down. Frustrating.
Anyway, I get to ride camp and pull off the direction I'm pointed, until my friend waves me over and points to where she's camped and I finally manage to wiggle my rig over next to her. Get the horses out and get their electric pen set up and get them tossed in.
The rest of the day was normal. My friends graciously offered to feed me (oh man, burgers at ride camp and a shared meal and wine is DELICIOUS, FYI!). I vetted in, no problems. Ride meeting was normal. Everything was normal, normal, normal.
I went to a friends trailer to talk to her after I'd noticed lightening. I'd tossed a rain sheet on Strider for the night to keep him dry as I knew that rain would be coming.
Around 10pm as I'm in my trailer getting it set up for the night and thinking about settling in for the evening, maybe reading, I hear my horses whirling around in their pen, so I pop my head out my trailer door and see 1 horse on the road run by as I loose the cry "Loose horse..." and I trail off as I see more go flying by and my cry changes to "Loose horses!" as I scamper to my pen to keep my two calm as this herd of 6 goes charging by my pen on their first "fly by" loop. Mine make loops, but they stay contained. I hollar to my neighbor about her horse and she hollars at her friends about their 3 horses. The herd is looping out by the barn we use for vet checks and PR area and I can see them looping back around, so I go to the front of my pen in order to keep them from trampling down my pen and freeing my two. They come near to running me over (the next morning the hoof prints were right there by my pen...it was scary to see how close they got), but swerved at the last moment to avoid taking down my fence.
I race to my trailer to grab two lead ropes and run into my pen, clip them on both horses and hang on as the herd makes a 3rd fly by our pen, hoping and praying that my two remain with me.
The herd goes by again and goes off into the field by the barn.
I'm talking to my neighbor when we hear it. I can close my eyes and still hear the *BANG!* that I now know is the horse known as Joe running into Devan Horn's car. I looked at my neighbor, both of our eyes wide as saucers as our stomachs drop. "That horse didn't make it," we both say. We look in that direction and can see, by the light of a trailer, one horse running away, a bucket trailing from it's rear leg that it finally manages to kick loose.
We see the herd bolt through camp at that point, and that's the last I saw of them all.
My neighbor and I are talking with her friends, and I said at the time whose horses I felt it was. Turns out I was 100% right.
The rain begins to start. Slow at first, then turns into a torrent. We stand around, looking at one another, unsure what to do. We're scared to leave our horses for fear that the herd will come back. My neighbor's friends have tossed their 3 horses into their trailer. I briefly consider it, except I have a full bale of hay and alfalfa tossed in the manger of mine and Strider would kill himself eating it all.
One of my friends comes towards our trailer from the barn, shaking. She had taken the horse Joe to the vets and gave us a run down of how he looked. We were all so shaken. She was very shaken. The rain was hard and fast. I went into my trailer, prepped it for sleeping, changed into dry clothes then went to visit my friend who had taken Joe to the vet's to just see how she was doing and to see if she knew anything new.
We talked for a while. She decided NOT to ride on Saturday. She was shaken. Scared. Those of us who were awake and aware were all scared all night long I think.
I eventually went back to my trailer, but slept fitfully. Anytime a four wheeler went by, I jerked awake. Some brave riders went out on horseback to hunt for horses, and anytime I would hear hooves on the roads, I jerked awake.
It was a long night. An awful night.
The final tally was this; 3 dead horses. 1 who was tied to a trailer that, from my understanding, a loose horse ran into him, he jerked back and broke his neck. 1 who fell into a ditch and broke her back. Another with a broken shoulder/leg that was put down at the Wharton Vet Hospital. Joe will survive this; but he lost an eye. Nevermind the horses with multiple lacerations and wounds. The one who had to have his shoulder stitched shut.
I tell this only to have it out there. I have already written of my first hand account to the AERC Board of Directors along with what I hope will be the ultimate outcome of this entire fiasco. I have received responses from 5 or 6 BoD members. I saw the new president posted to the AERC page with, what I hope, is a hint of what will come and what will happen to this member.
My thoughts are with the man who did right and lost a horse. My thoughts are with the horses who are recovering from this ordeal, and those who won't ever run again.
The entire endurance community; in fact, the entire equine community who is aware of these events, is now looking at their containment systems and wondering how to improve them and make them better and safer. I myself may be utilizing my coil ties with more frequency and encircling my entire rig with hot tape. I will certainly be buying glow sticks to braid into manes. Small solar lights to put around my fencing option.
I am now also seriously considering buying HiTies for the RedDraggin' and using them at night while utilizing my electric fence during the day.
There ARE changings coming to containment at AERC. I do not feel banning electric is the answer. I'm also not sure that banning people who have occasional containment failures is the answer either. Constant failures IS a problem. Which is what this person had. And it needs to be dealt with.
Next post will be about ride day. Which also was a failure. Thankfully not a catastrophic failure, but...the worst I've ever dealt with at a ride. I'll go over my thoughts and feelings from the day as well.
