Hoss’s Progress and Other Bits and Pieces

I started hand walking Hoss on Friday, January 14. So far, it is going well. I go out in the morning, get the goats out, get him, and everybody goes for a walk! Hoss has caught on to this routine in a hurry. On the second day, he was waiting for me at his gate. Now I can open his gate and he'll follow me to get his halter.

We're having as much fun with this routine as possible. I'm using the opportunity to teach him a few new things. The day after we started hand walks, I came down with a cold. It was fine at first, but it decided to settle into my lungs, and making it back up the huge hill was becoming a problem. Well, endurance horses should know how to tail! So, we started working on how to pull a human up a hill by your tail. Hoss was not real thrilled with this notion the first couple of days. He really didn't like me holding his tail. But he got used to it, and now he waits for me to grab hold and hauls away! It give him a little bit more to think about than just following along.

The other thing I've been working on is not dragging his hind toes going down the hill. It is a steep hill, but that doesn't mean he needs to drag his toes! So I started "driving" him a little with a long whip and encouraging him to pick up his feet. A few days of that, and all I have to say is "pick up your feet" and he stops dragging his toes.

Of course, with the nice green grass available right now, we take a break mid-walk for grazing. It won't last, so we might as well take advantage of it while we can.

Last week, I added in ten minutes lunging. The idea is to get a nice, forward trot. For a few days it was a challenge. He really doesn't like to lunge. It's boring. Well, it's boring for me, too! When he was gentled, he got it into his head that "good boy" means, "we're done." Beth spent a great deal of time disabusing him of this misconception. Unfortunately, since bringing him home, I haven't had a whole lot of occasions to lunge him, so the lesson hasn't been regularly reinforced. The result is that, right now, I'm dealing with him stopping every time I tell him "good boy." I know it's a serious case of the "don't wannas," so I just get him moving again and we keep it up.

Less than a week into lunging, and he started acting very silly in the round pen! Yesterday I took him in and got ten minutes of hyper-trotting and cantering. He finally settled down to work, but the end result was twenty minutes in the round pen instead of ten. I decided this means he really needs more exercise. He's certainly letting me know in no uncertain terms!

Since he gave me such a clear indication of what he thinks of all this, I broke out the saddle and we went for a little zip around the block in the afternoon. He was very well behaved. I think the whole lay-off and hand walking is paying off! Of course, when we got to the "running hill," it was difficult to hold him back. I'm pretty sure I could've gotten him to walk the hill, but that didn't seem like a whole lot of fun, so I let him run. I don't think he would have been nearly so happy if I'd made him walk. We're still having trouble not trotting down the hill toward home, but it's getting better and we're not fighting about it anymore.

Hoss's progress is great! Since the fifth day after we came home, there has been no swelling or heat in his hock, even after work. I'd have to say that, although I plan to continue to be conservative about it, he's back to 100% from the injury. Of course, there's a little more to the story, but I'm saving that for another post!

As to me, well, I had my MRI and sat down with the doctor. The MRI confirms a torn rotator cuff. The tear is not a complete one, but he can't tell from the images exactly what he's going to need to do. The end result is, I won't know how long I won't be able to work/ride until AFTER I have the surgery! The possibilities range from take a week off, to six weeks off. In the first case, he'll just need to make the passage for the rotator cuff larger. In the worst case, he'll have to complete the tear and reattach my rotator cuff to the bone! Needless to say, I'm rooting for as little interference as possible.

I haven't heard yet as to when we can do the surgery. It's been a week and a half since I saw the doctor and no news yet. I'm beginning to feel a little frustrated! My next planned ride is Cuyama Oaks, in March. At this point, that's only eight weeks away! Ulp. If I end up with a six week lay up period, my plans will likely be in the tank, yet again. Right now, I'm keeping my fingers crossed and moving forward as if everything will work out just fine. My frustration level, unfortunately, I can't seem to keep under control….

The Slings and Arrows

Phoenix and Hoss meet

Exhausted and in horrible pain, Phoenix slowly walked beside me, dragging the toe of his right front foot. Ever willing, ever strong, in spite of his severely broken elbow he followed me wheresoever I chose to take him. I brought him to the chosen spot, and we waited for Dr. Smith. With gentle and sure hands, Dr. Smith gave Phoenix his release from pain, release from life.

Two days earlier, in what can only be described as a vicious attack, Tahoe chased Phoenix to the bottom of the pasture. Once he had cornered Phoenix, Tahoe turned about and began kicking. I witnessed the attack, but was too far away to intercede. By the time I ran in to the pasture, Phoenix was running toward me on three legs.

At that moment, the first thing that sprang into my head was that his leg was broken. In faint hope, I removed Phoenix from the pasture and put him in a corral next to Hoss. I gave him food and made sure he had water. There was a small wound on his elbow that bled freely for several minutes. I treated the obvious wound, blanketed him, gave him some Banamine, and headed out for bell choir rehearsal.

On Tuesday the swelling was quite evident. Phoenix still would not bear weight. He would move his hind feet forward, then hop his left foreleg up. I wrapped his legs to help prevent supporting leg injuries, and gave him more Banamine.

For two days, I watched my little horse struggle to make his way from one end of the 12 by 24 corral to get from food to water and back to the shared panel with Hoss. Hoss stood near him all the time, reaching through the panels to gently groom Phoenix.

By Wednesday night, I knew I needed a vet. I went out to tend to Phoenix, and decided to try to bend his elbow. I gently manipulated the joint, and it quickly became evident that the likelihood was it was broken.

I went in the house and looked up the vet's number. Within an hour, Dr. Smith was here, and he confirmed my worst fears.

Phoenix and "volunteer" daughter, Celeste

I purchased Phoenix on October 2, 1998, for $600. He was three years old. My friend, Tina, had heard he was for sale, and brought him to my attention. Something about the little guy attracted me. Somehow, he was meant to be mine.

We spent many wonderful years together, but there were the exasperating times, too. I recall – with some fondness, now – the many trail rides during which I could be heard to mutter, "Goddamn it, Phoenix!" repeatedly. He was headstrong and willful. He was also smart and dependable. More than once he was able to keep us from becoming stuck or injured.

Phoenix had a gallop to make me feel like we flew. When I got a GPS, I clocked him at speeds upwards of 25 mph, even up hills. And yet, even when he ran full out, I always knew I could pull him down if I needed do. We were truly a team.

Phoenix and Celeste at Manzanita, 2008

Over the years, we spent many miles together. He carried me for 305 limited distance miles. We only completed one 50 mile ride together. Between his poor conformation, and the simple fact that I was far heavier than he should have been expected to carry, it was not to be. Still, he went forward eagerly and with a will. His last 80 limited distance miles he carried my "volunteer" daughter, a close friend of my daughter's. His last competition was a ride and tie, his first and, sadly, last, and he loved it.

There is a hole in my heart tonight where my beloved Phoenix once lived. I desperately miss his presence in this world, in my yard. It is said you only get one great horse. I no longer believe this is true, since Hoss walked in to my life, but I know that Phoenix was the best thing that ever happened to me. He taught me the ropes of endurance riding and gave me many fond memories. Without Phoenix, I would not now be competing in endurance, and I would not have Hoss.

I feel truly blessed to have had Phoenix. He taught me things I would have learned no other way.

Good bye, my sweet, annoying, loving, funny Phoenix.

The Plan from Here

The day after arriving home from Death Valley, I spent some time checking Hoss's hock. There is localized heat over the inside aspect of his hock. After consulting my anatomy books, I've concluded he has a strained hock. Exactly which structures are involved I'm not entirely sure. There is some evidence he may have a small bog spavin, but it's too early to know for sure. The vet at Death Valley had already advised to stick him in a corral for a couple of weeks. I did my research to determine how long I should take in rehabilitating this injury. I have sketched out a plan to that end.

Hoss will spend the next two weeks in the corral. He only gets to come out for cold hosing of the hock, which will probably only happen for the first week or so. After that, we may or may not use a topical solution to encourage healing.

For the next two weeks, we will do hand walks. I'll just take him along with us when I walk the dogs. While doing this, depending on whether the hock shows signs of heat, he may get more cold hosing or a topical application.

For another two weeks, I will start gradually adding in time trotting in the round pen and short, slow rides under saddle.

After the full six weeks, we should be able to return to full training. These plans, of course, depend on how Hoss responds to this treatment. Should he backslide, I'll be forced to reassess and do something else.

Provided all goes well, I plan to attend the Cuyama Oaks XP ride in March. That gives us 12 weeks for full recovery. I feel this is plenty conservative enough, considering Hoss's current fitness level. I'm planning on taking my time with this. It's far easier to get a good recovery the first time an injury happens, than when you return to work too soon and injure it again.
I'm also hoping that I'll be able to undergo surgery for my rotator cuff while Hoss is still recovering.  That way, we'll be recovering together!

Death Valley Encounter Day 3

We headed out on the trail a little after 7am, in hopes of being the last ones on the trail. I had discovered on day 1 Hoss is at his most chargy and inattentive when he's been passed by other horses. So, my idea was if I got out behind everybody he'd be less difficult to deal with. Unfortunately, I was wrong. He knew the other horses were out there, and he was determined to catch them. I did my level best to keep him down to a walk, but mostly, he jigged.

It was inevitable that we would catch up to other horses. He was not going to walk, no matter what I did, and even if he did walk, it was a very fast walk. All the other horses were behaving. Of course, many of them were on their third day, so they had already been doing this a while. Hoss, on the other hand, had a day off.

Once we caught up with other horses, I let Hoss get past a few, then settled him in to a walk. This worked until the other horses started trotting! Then, he had to trot to keep up. Since we'd had problems and been pulled on day 1, I didn't want to spend a whole lot of time fighting with him and risk re-injuring him. I still worked on keeping his attention and controlling his speed, with limited efficacy.

We started up a hill, and I wanted Hoss to walk. This, however, meant that a horse he'd decided he should be with would get away from him. So once again we were on the jiggy, head up, can't stay in control nonsense. I kept my cool and worked on keeping him down. I did get to where I was able to keep him from completely bolting without having a death grip on his face. I could use a reasonably long rein and not have him get away from me. This resulted in more often getting the long, low head set we're working on. He still wasn't walking, but he wasn't running away, either.

We topped the hill and rode along the ridge overlooking the Searles valley. The pictures I took do not do justice to the spectacular views. It was a stunning bit of landscape. The horse he'd been trying to catch up to the entire way was stopped by its rider so she could take pictures. I took the opportunity to get Hoss off on his own. We continued down the trail. Many other riders chose to walk this section. I did not. Largely I prefer to ride Hoss since we've reached a point where, especially downhill, I walk a great deal slower than he does. I will get off if I feel I can control his behavior better on the ground or the terrain would be better negotiated separately.

We were caught up once again by the horse which had stopped for pictures. After a while, I let him start trotting and we ended up with that horse and one other. None of us was deliberately riding with the others, it just sort of turned out that way. So we just trotted along together. It worked out relatively well, really. The pace was one I could live with, not too fast like the horses Hoss decided he had to be with on day 1.

The terrain was very rocky, much of the trail unsuited to trotting. There was a lot of walking, but we did take every opportunity to trot. We were trotting over some questionable terrain, when I heard the double-tap sound of a loose shoe. I was thinking Hoss was losing his left hind shoe. He certainly didn't feel quite right on it. But he wouldn't slow down! After a few paces, the sound went away, I was assured by one of the other riders the shoe was still on, and we continued on at a walk. The next time we trotted, though, it became clear Hoss hadn't come out unscathed. Something was wrong. The other riders told me he was short striding on the left hind.

After a bit, I stopped Hoss, letting the other riders continue on, and got off to check his foot. The shoe was solidly in place and no evidence of a stone or any other injury to the foot. I was operating under the assumption he'd bruised his sole.

When I got back on, we caught back up with the other horses and tried trotting again. It was no good. He was definitely off. I decided he needed to walk to the vet check and we could figure it out from there. I pulled him up and fought him the next ten miles to the vet check. I got off once and led for a while in hopes of getting him to let go of the idea of catching up, but when I got back on, he was right back in it. He did go sound at the trot on the soft river bottom sand, but harder surfaces he was lame on. I managed to keep him from getting too hot and let the vet know we were having a problem when I got in.

Hoss ate well at the hold, showing no sign of discomfort. I took him to the vet toward the end of our hold time. She checked him over, feeling for his digital pulse, and watched him trot. It was there, she said, but not bad. She would allow us to continue, but under orders to walk. I'd already been walking for ten miles, and I figured we had enough time to get in at the walk he'd been doing all day. We'd decide on whether he could do day 4 when he'd finished day 3.

We left the vet check alone, well ahead of any other horses. Hoss walked out nicely. I noticed that a couple of the screws on my saddle had backed out. I tried to fix them with my leatherman tool, but was unsuccessful. I'd have to do it from the ground, and decided it just wasn't that important. After a while, horses started to catch up to us. Yet again I was fighting him over speed. I was told one other horse was under orders to walk, so I decided that I'd try to hook up with them in the hopes we'd all be able to walk in together.

About ten horses and riders ended up together. Somehow, the trail markers got removed or blown away, and we all found ourselves riding cross-country over small boulders and through dry creek beds. We did eventually find our way back to mark trail, but I don't think any of us was ever really sure where we'd lost the trail. There was a very distinct marker at the turn, and a couple ribbons up the hill, but the trail seemed to vanish and there wasn't a ribbon in sight. At that moment I thought it sure would've been nice if I'd known how to download the GPS data and use it!

Once we got back on trail markers, there was a steep, narrow uphill on the edge of the hillside. It was a lovely trail. The only problem I had with it was when other horses got ahead and Hoss forgot to pay attention to the trail. I did eventually dismount and let the other horses get ahead for a while. When I got back on, though, he still couldn't keep his head. When we came to some whoop-de-woos in the trail and I felt he wasn't paying enough attention not to further injure himself, I dismounted and led him on.

We were eventually passed by the last two riders. I continued on foot as long as I could, meaning that I finally got my headlamp out and got back on when it was too dark for me to feel comfortable on my own feet. I trust Hoss's night vision far better than my own, even with a flashlight. Despite the fact that he was being very uncooperative, I felt we were safer if I rode than if I walked. I was likely to lead us astray, while Hoss had a sense of where the other horses had gone, so was more likely to keep us on trail.

By this time, I had done quite a lot of thinking. Day 1 ended in a pull. Day 3 we were walking in lame. I decided I was going to take what I could get and quit while I was ahead. Whether the vet passed him to continue on day 4 or not, we were going home! He only has two more legs; I'm not interested in seeing if he can injure all of them.

We got back to camp with just under an hour to spare. I took Hoss straight to the vet, who asked to see him trot. She said he was still lame, possibly a little worse than at the vet check, and we definitely shouldn't go the next day. I told her I had no intention of doing so even if she'd cleared him! We turtle this ride.

I had my daughter trot Hoss out for me. Once I got to see it for myself, it was clear there was no stone bruise involved, but I wasn't sure what it was. I was leaning toward stifle or hock. In the morning, it was clear it was his hock. His left hock was swollen and hot to the touch. The vet looked him over and cleared him to get in the trailer and go home. We packed up, and my lovely daughter drove us all the way home. It's only the second time in her life she's ever driven the rig. I am very proud of her.

Death Valley Encounter Day 2

Overnight a storm blew in. And do I ever mean it blew in! The winds were very powerful. We didn't get any rain overnight, but the dratted wind lasted all day.

While setting our tent back up the night before, we discovered one of the tent poles is split. Well, that would explain why it didn't want to bed properly! I suppose after nearly seven years, the darned thing doesn't owe us a thing. Still, I hate discovering things needing fixed or replaced when there's nothing I can do about it.

Hoss's rode-in-a-strange-trailer ding!

Since we scratched for day 2, I got to take my time getting up and feeding Hoss. I was still up pretty early.

I noticed the vet was in camp checking on horses that had been pulled or treated the day before. So I got dressed and brought Hoss over to her. She felt the leg and watched him trot. She said there was no sign of the cramp, it was completely gone, and he was clear to ride. I wasn't even tempted. I'd decided to give him the day off, and I had no intention of changing my plans.

The wind was so bad I had to move the camp stove into the trailer so we could cook. At one point the wind had the trailer door pinned so tightly shut, my daughter couldn't get out!

We spent the day taking Hoss for little walks and laying in the tent to escape the wind. My shoulder was giving me trouble, so I took painkillers to try to beat it back. The result was that, because I didn't have anything to do, I slept a lot!

In the afternoon I saddled Hoss up and took him for a quick ride. He was his usual self, and the cramp made no reappearance. Once we were done, I took him to the vet to clear him for day 3. She watched him trot and gave him the all clear.

Death Valley Encounter Day 1

We set out nice and early in the dawn light. I let everybody set out before us and left 20 minutes after the official start. Hoss started reasonably well behaved.

I wanted to walk for a mile or so to get Hoss warmed up. He hadn't been out of the pasture in 10 days, so was feeling pretty fresh. We were doing great until a pack of horses caught up and passed us. Well, that was it. Race brain set in.

I used every strategy I have to keep Hoss at a reasonably pace. He just doesn't get it. He simply cannot go as fast as those slender little arabs. I did get him to go with his head in an appropriate position from time to time, but mostly I had the back of his head in my face.

We caught up to a pair of grey arabs and passed them. At which point Hoss promptly slowed down to stay with them! He wanted to be ahead, but to feel like he was the leader and not alone.

Coming in to the town of Johannesburg, I managed to leave the grey arabs behind, and we caught up to another group of horses. We rode with this group for some time.

While riding through Johannesburg, one of the riders commented on my tack and asked about Team 91. I explained why I have the colors and the significance of Team 91. I said it was an homage to my father. He thought that was very neat. This was an older gentlemen, probably near the age my father was when he passed, so the compliment coming from him meant a lot to me.

After passing through Johannesburg, we went right down the main street of Randsburg. What a charming little town. It's described as "a living ghost town." I commented that I'd love to visit some time when I wasn't just passing through on an endurance ride. There are some neat little antique shops and it's a colorful slice of California's mining history.

Negotiating a steep, slick downhill, Hoss slipped rather frighteningly. We had stopped to let the rider we were with dismount. I wasn't going to get off because Hoss can walk so much faster than I can downhill. Then, Hoss's right front just slipped out from under him! It startled me enough that I got off and led (or rather, followed a lot) the rest of the way down that hill. Several times Hoss stopped and looked back at me as if to say, "just get on; we can go faster!" I don't blame him. All the other horses were being led far faster than he was.

Once the trail was less slick, I got back on. It was still downhill, but neither quite so steep nor so wet. Once I was on, Hoss forgot how to walk. Those grey arabs had passed us while I was afoot. Now Hoss was determined to pass them back up again. So down the hill we went trotting. Hoss likes to trot downhill better than anything. Once we caught and passed the arabs, he wanted to slow down again. I kept him going – although at a slower trot – for a ways before I let him drop back to a walk.

Not long after I let Hoss walk, the ladies on the arabs started trotting. Well, Hoss couldn't be left behind. He started trotting as soon as they started passing him. He was being kind of a butt. He wouldn't drop behind and he couldn't get ahead.

I don't like having huge fights on rides. There's a time for working on discipline, and during the ride typically is not it. Oh, I'll get after him on really important stuff, but I'm apt to let the little stuff go. This has probably led toa certain degree of unruliness on Hoss's part. He knows full well when I'm going to be a hard ass and when I'm not. Add to this the need to pick my battles based on how my shoulder is, and it's a recipe for a snotty horse! Fortunately Hoss is relatively easy going. He doesn't really care if he's with other horses or not, he just wants to be with or ahead if they happen to be going the same way he is.

At about 13 miles we came to the trot by check. I can't be sure, because when I got off to use a bush, I discovered my GPS had shut down. I was pretty sure this was due to low batteries, but I turned it on to be sure. I'd had the foresight to pack spare batteries.

After changing my GPS batteries and trotting for the vet, we headed back out on the trail. We passed under the railroad tracks and into some of the prettiest countryside there is.

There was a pretty significant climb. Hoss was happy enough to walk it. By this time those grey arabs had caught back up. Now Hoss was obsessed with them! Several times I tried to get away from them, but to no avail. Hoss would slow down until they caught up. Of course, he slowed down to the pace I wanted to set anyway, so it wasn't like I could get after him for it.

I did get quite a few pictures. Some places were very beautiful, but the trail too technical to have my camera out. So I got what I could get.

The loop from the trot by back to the vet check was about 17 miles. Hoss and I disagreed mightily about how fast to go. There was a lot of deep, sandy stuff. Not the kind of surfacewe often see. I wanted him to walk. By now we had passed the grey arabs and left them behind. I had gotten him behind another horse and used that horse to keep him going. Then we got caught up by a fast walking arab. Hoss did not like that one bit. That horse was passing him!

I'm sure the rider of that arab thought us the rudest team out there. Hoss started jigging in the deep stuff. I corrected him many times before I decided to let him trot (less "let" than "put up with"). Once we caught up, I made him pass and keep going. For once he seemed pleased to do so.

We came to another uphill, which I had Hoss walk. Well, this resulted in being caught up by the fast walking arab and the horse they were riding with. Hoss couldn't possibly let them pass! He was being a total brat. I finally managed to force him to let them by and kept him to a walk long enough to let them be ahead.

We were getting close to the vet check, and I wanted to walk in. Hoss wasn't having it. He wanted to catch up that pair of horses with a fiery passion. There were back in sight and he was going to get 'em!

We came in to the vet check far hotter than I'd have preferred, so I wasn't surprised his heart rate was a little high. Thinking back, I should have been. Criteria was 64.

I found Hoss some hay. Ride management had brought orchard, which Hoss is allergic to. Oops. Lesson: always, always, always bring hay Hoss can have and send it to the vet checks. Fortunately someone had left a flake of alfalfa and kindly said anybody could use it. Hoss was hungry enough to eat dirt, so I was extremely grateful to find something he could have.

I presented Hoss to the vet about half an hour into our hour hold. They were getting ready to clear the vet check, so they wanted to get everybody vetted before the vet left. When I trotted him out, the vet said, "That's why! You want a trailer ride to camp." Hoss had a cramp in his right hind leg, explaining his high heart rate. Up to that point I had no indication anything was remotely wrong. In fact, it was the first time he'd simply trotted out at a vet check. In the past he's required hazing.

The vet located the muscle in question. It was in a pretty good knot, up in his groin. I massaged it, but entertained no notion of going on.

My suspicion is the cramp is related to a slip or other bad step he'd taken during the ride. I distinctly recall feeling his right hind half collapse. He continued on, so I thought nothing of it until he was lame at the vet check.

We took the trailer ride back to camp. When I unloaded him, I found Hoss had whacked his head enough to just slightly skin his face just below and inside his left eye. He did not like that trailer ride. I'm pretty sure the cramp was worse by the time we got back.

Due to weather concerns, the entire ride picked up and switched camps a day early. My daughter drove us to the new camp and we got ourselves situated. I told the ride manager that I was scratching for day 2 and would see how things went from there.

Before going to bed, I walked Hoss around and massaged his crampy leg. To my admittedly less than expert hands, it felt nearly gone.