Cheyenne
This is not a happy post. Just skip over it.
This is my horse. He's a good, old, skinny, ornery, surefooted, mountain goat of a trail horse. And he'll probably be dead by this time tomorrow.
He was down on Thursday morning, but was well enough to come up for grain Thursday evening. Friday he wasn't moving his back legs at all, and didn't/couldn't come up for grain. I went over last night to see him, instead of watching the presidential debate.
This afternoon, I got there just as the vet was leaving, so all I have to go on is the owner's version of what the vet said. He has no detectable pulse in his left hind leg, and it's cold and basically dead. The owner said the vet said pulmonary embolism, which doesn't make sense, since he doesn't have any problem breathing. According to the wikipedia, "the most common site of origin of pulmonary emboli are the femoral veins", so maybe he meant femoral thrombus, but I'm not the one with the DVM.
In any case, he has no circulation to the left hind leg, he can't move it, and he's just standing in the paddock, occasionally rotating around the hind legs, even more occasionally dragging himself a few feet, as when he felt beset by the other horses (he was getting treats, and they wanted some of the action). He's probably getting put down tomorrow morning, but I'll be on a plane to California by then. So I stood with him in the rain for 4 hours this afternoon, feeding him treats, grooming him, singing to him, and generally saying my goodbyes.
This is lyonesse, feeding him hay. He still has a good appetite, despite having some dodgy teeth, and despite a rather severe case of diarrhea - also not good for keeping weight on the skinny old horse.
Cheyenne came into the barn as a boarder, as someone else's horse. But he proved too much for his owner, and she was intimidated by him. She was paying Laine (the barn owner) to train him, but he didn't need training per se, so much as regular work, so Laine sublet him to me. At the time, the horse I had been riding had recently died, and I was a sort of floating leaser, riding whoever was available, and whoever needed riding. Cheyenne's owner eventually stopped showing up, stopped paying, and Laine seized her horse as abandoned property. Rather than sending him to the auction house (how much will you offer for this 24 year old horse?), she kept him as a lease horse. He had another rider in those days, who left to be a cowboy in New Mexico (true story). I've been his sole rider for about 5 of the last 6 years.
Once we got past the testing, and the trust issues, and all the ear-pinning, air-kicking Drama, Cheyenne turned out to be a fabulous trail horse, with an inerrant sense of direction, combined with an inclination to explore, to bush-wack if necessary. See e.g. i said to the horse, "surprise and delight me," and he did. Together, we've covered probably 75% of the trails in the Harold Parker State Forest, and the ones we haven't been on are mostly both far from the barn and on the other side of a busy road. He probably knows the trails better than I do, and he has a definite preference for the narrow, twisty side-paths over the big, wide fire roads.
I also have to give props to lyonesse, who has been my riding instructor and co-conspirator for the last two years or so. At her instigation, we got him out of the ported western bit (low-ported, but ported nonetheless) into a rubber D-ring snaffle bit, and ultimately into a side-pull bitless bridle, with no loss of communication or control. We've also been working recently on communication and aids through the seat and legs, where he's been used to being steered exclusively through the head. I think I've become a better rider, he's become a more responsive mount, and we've become a better team.
Anyway, there's lots more I could say about Cheyenne, and the barn, and riding in general, but it's late and I still have to pack.
This is my horse. He's a good, old, skinny, ornery, surefooted, mountain goat of a trail horse. And he'll probably be dead by this time tomorrow.
He was down on Thursday morning, but was well enough to come up for grain Thursday evening. Friday he wasn't moving his back legs at all, and didn't/couldn't come up for grain. I went over last night to see him, instead of watching the presidential debate.
This afternoon, I got there just as the vet was leaving, so all I have to go on is the owner's version of what the vet said. He has no detectable pulse in his left hind leg, and it's cold and basically dead. The owner said the vet said pulmonary embolism, which doesn't make sense, since he doesn't have any problem breathing. According to the wikipedia, "the most common site of origin of pulmonary emboli are the femoral veins", so maybe he meant femoral thrombus, but I'm not the one with the DVM.
In any case, he has no circulation to the left hind leg, he can't move it, and he's just standing in the paddock, occasionally rotating around the hind legs, even more occasionally dragging himself a few feet, as when he felt beset by the other horses (he was getting treats, and they wanted some of the action). He's probably getting put down tomorrow morning, but I'll be on a plane to California by then. So I stood with him in the rain for 4 hours this afternoon, feeding him treats, grooming him, singing to him, and generally saying my goodbyes.
This is lyonesse, feeding him hay. He still has a good appetite, despite having some dodgy teeth, and despite a rather severe case of diarrhea - also not good for keeping weight on the skinny old horse.
Cheyenne came into the barn as a boarder, as someone else's horse. But he proved too much for his owner, and she was intimidated by him. She was paying Laine (the barn owner) to train him, but he didn't need training per se, so much as regular work, so Laine sublet him to me. At the time, the horse I had been riding had recently died, and I was a sort of floating leaser, riding whoever was available, and whoever needed riding. Cheyenne's owner eventually stopped showing up, stopped paying, and Laine seized her horse as abandoned property. Rather than sending him to the auction house (how much will you offer for this 24 year old horse?), she kept him as a lease horse. He had another rider in those days, who left to be a cowboy in New Mexico (true story). I've been his sole rider for about 5 of the last 6 years.
Once we got past the testing, and the trust issues, and all the ear-pinning, air-kicking Drama, Cheyenne turned out to be a fabulous trail horse, with an inerrant sense of direction, combined with an inclination to explore, to bush-wack if necessary. See e.g. i said to the horse, "surprise and delight me," and he did. Together, we've covered probably 75% of the trails in the Harold Parker State Forest, and the ones we haven't been on are mostly both far from the barn and on the other side of a busy road. He probably knows the trails better than I do, and he has a definite preference for the narrow, twisty side-paths over the big, wide fire roads.
I also have to give props to lyonesse, who has been my riding instructor and co-conspirator for the last two years or so. At her instigation, we got him out of the ported western bit (low-ported, but ported nonetheless) into a rubber D-ring snaffle bit, and ultimately into a side-pull bitless bridle, with no loss of communication or control. We've also been working recently on communication and aids through the seat and legs, where he's been used to being steered exclusively through the head. I think I've become a better rider, he's become a more responsive mount, and we've become a better team.
Anyway, there's lots more I could say about Cheyenne, and the barn, and riding in general, but it's late and I still have to pack.