Spring Fever

contact

~*~

We’re in the 90 day territory of Bear’s long 120-day rehab.

How time flies.

What was daunting three months ago has become a routine; a new rhythm which, a month from now, will change again as we embark on the next phase of his healing journey. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, he’s been such a good boy about recent his limited lifestyle. But then … it wasn’t spring.

Yes, spring has sprung and with it the vagaries of temperament it brings.

Last weekend Bear’s “girlfriend,” Heidi, returned from her two-month stint in Florida. That was exciting enough, but add to that the fact she was also in full season and well the boys, notwithstanding they’re all geldings, were all pretty excited. Especially my darling cooped up Bear.

He was a regular Romeo ~ my normally well-behaved boy reeling with spring fever.

I would say happily, but he really wasn’t. When we went outside for his walk, Heidi galloped all the way across the paddock screaming for him. Naturally, this had Bear all excited ~ on his toes, head in the air, ears pricked, nostrils flaring, eyes bulging. He voiced his own ear-piercing screams in response. And I’m standing at the other end of the lead line wondering what the heck I’m going to do to calm my love-starved boy down.

Hmmm …

First of all, I couldn’t allow him to exacerbate his healing injury and secondly, I didn’t want to get trampled. Somehow I had to get his focus back on me and away from the femme fatale. The first thing to do was to get him walking again and indoors. This required assertiveness without aggression, and total presence of mind.

Once indoors he came back to me fairly quickly, but was still on his toes. Normally, I would turn him loose in the arena to work out his anxiety on his own, however with his injury this was not an option. So, while he continued screaming for Heidi and acting like the proverbial hormonal teenage boy we returned to bare bone basics, hearkening back to exercises I’d learned while studying natural horsemanship with Chris Irwin. We spent a half hour doing in-hand work at the walk.

Since he was obviously stuck in a disturbing energy the only thing to do was to get him focused on moving out of it by going forward. As he was intent upon walking circles around me I let him lead the way, keeping a firm connection in-hand and calmly guiding those circles all over the arena. I remained conscious of my breathing and encouraged him to come down from his exhilarated state by audibly exhaling slowly so he could connect with my own calm energy. I talked gently to him and gave him praise whenever I recognized a noticeable shift.

With the dressage whip, which is a neutral instrument until we put our own energy into it, I gently tapped him on the shoulder or in the belly area when he absently crowded my space. I needed to reconnect him to the idea of safe boundaries and being present, with me. There was no drama involved. Elevating my own energy was not going to calm Bear down. I simply needed de-escalate his exhilaration by channelling his overwrought energy into an underwhelming task.

By the time we’d walked 15, or so, forward, 10 metre circles all around the arena his energy had already de-escalated. To finish and ensure we were completely on side with one another, we did one of my favourite awareness exercises. I call it “Eyes on Me.”

Respecting Boundaries

We stand facing each other about six feet, or so, apart. (Usually we can do this with him untethered but in light of his injury I kept him on a loose line). I keep him at that distance (creating a boundary) by simply pointing the dressage whip at his shoulder or tapping him gently on the knees when he wants to move closer. I need him to respect the boundary I’ve created for both our sakes.

The idea is to get him to keep his eyes on me. When his mind drifts or his attention is distracted by something which causes him to turn his head away, I regain his attention by shifting my body weight in the opposite direction to invite his attention back into the connected space we share. After a few minutes of this he’s generally licking and chewing and yawning, demonstrating to me that he’s fully back in his body and in my presence, and feeling good about it. We can stand there for 15 minutes and enjoy the most peaceful communion just being in the moment together. It’s amazing.

This was done to good affect on Sunday, and I was pleased. It just proved to me again that positively channelling excess energy in a constructive way can help to offset anxieties that can quickly overwhelm. I used to do this a lot with Bear when he was younger. It’s a gentle way to help desensitize the anxious horse when ice is falling off the roof, or a storm is rolling in the distance. Soon they learn to trust that the safest place is with their human companion … and isn’t that what we want?

Personally, this exercise has taught me that when I’m feeling anxious it’s helpful to distract myself with something that grounds me again. Listening to soothing music, reading a good book, or simply hanging out with Bear usually does the trick.

When we returned to the barn Bear was feeling mellow yellow. I was so glad to have had the presence of mind and skill behind me to guide Bear through a potentially volatile situation, without getting either of us more worked up or hurt.

After a thorough grooming, he returned to his new digs (yes, he now has a room with a view across the aisle from his old stall) and I spoiled him with treats. He’d earned it.

When I left to go home Bear was contentedly munching on hay … oh yes, and dreaming up his latest sonnet which, of course, his alter ego, Shakespeare, later summoned me to transcribe.

What can I say? I’m a pushover for a writing assignment …

Sonnet XXVI

With spring upon the air there is no doubt

The wistful thoughts that populate my mind.

Yet dwell upon them not lest I should pout,

Forgetting gentle deeds of those so kind.

Tis stuck indoors I’ve been these many weeks

And cabin fever’s cramped my usual style,

Still, liberty toward me slowly creeps

And renders ‘pon long face a welcome smile.

*

For lately in the warm delight of day

When mother’s love hath led me in the sun,

I feast upon fresh shoots and wisps of hay

Reminding me this journey’s almost done.

For winter hath released its icy hold

And once again spring’s warmth I feel, not cold.

~*~

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy
Horse Mom
©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

A Gift of Sunshine

Tunnel vision

~*~

Spring has sprung here in Southern Ontario, and while we are seeing the light at the end of winter’s dark tunnel it’s premature to believe we’re completely through the other side of it to spring. We had snow flurries two days ago and temps are still hovering around the zero celsius mark. It’s also been terribly damp, to the point of being bone-chilling, so too early to put the woolies away yet.

Brrrrrrr …..

Still, this too shall pass.

We have been granted the occasional teaser warm day with bright sunshine, which has melted the ice and dried the ground enough for me to be able to take Bear outside for his daily amble (when their isn’t a stiff nor’wester blowing, of course).

How amazing to finally be able to engage with Bear in the sunshine. A blessing, to be sure.

Hay manEven though he’s been stuck indoors for weeks and weeks Bear’s demonstrated such poise on his first outings outside. A nice alert, flat-footed walk around the dirt parking lot for several minutes; his ears perked; eyes big and curious about who’s in which paddock. The occasional stop to test, with practiced lips, the browned grass for the much longed for fresh shoots that are just beginning to poke through the thawing earth.

As a special treat he has permission to feast at a hay buffet courtesy of an open round bale. Such bliss to stand in the early spring sunshine with Bear as he seeks to satisfy his endless appetite.

Watching Bear revel in this small change of routine makes me happy. He’s been a model rehab patient during his long confinement, so to be able to give him the gift of blue skies and sunshine makes me feel like I’m doing something positive. It was a cold, bleak winter and it feels so good to be out from under that cloud.

Better by the day

With respect to Bear’s recovery, he’s getting better by the day. Things haven’t changed much since his last ultrasound of three weeks ago, except that as of last weekend I no longer apply a sweat to the injured fetlock. The inflammation there has decreased such that a simple stable wrap will do. He lives in them (I still wrap the supporting leg as well) 24/7 except when I hand walk him. This is when he wears Back on Track therapeutic polo bandages to give his lower legs the support they need while exercising, such as it is at present.

Fun with food

Our friend Sarah capture Bear’s “fun with food” moment the other day. His nibble net is supposed to be inside his stall and in this image he has successfully manoeuvred it otherwise. His own definition for “throwing hay.” ;-)

Bear’s spirits are good. He’s spoiled with attention, and treats, and loves to entertain whoever chooses to stop long enough outside his stall to indulge his flights of fancy.

Last Monday he had his monthly massage. Evidently he gets tight on the right side from standing around, so the therapist has given me a few gentle techniques to use on him to help keep those localized spots a little more limber.

The Worst Kind of Crap Shoot

In the meantime, I have been starting to shop for another horse, and horse shopping, as pretty much anyone who’s engaged in it will tell you, can be the worst kind of crap shoot, especially without good guidance. There are so many variables; so many things to consider that if you don’t know specifically what kind of horse you’re looking for and keep the emotional component in check you could end up on an expensive and discouraging wild goose chase.

Since my goal with a new dressage horse is to be able to see myself start to ride to my highest potential, I need one with three good gaits (walk, trot, canter) and that is well schooled in the German training system. As my coach put it to me the other day, we want a horse that allows me to develop my riding ability without having to address huge holes in his training. I don’t mind the challenges that will arise as I push myself to a higher plateau of horsemanship, but I don’t want to have to deal with the arguments presented as a result of someone else’s poor horse training.

My coach is in agreement with this.

So, we’re on the look out for a warmblood around eight years old, with good solid gaits and training, a sound temperament and at least 16.2 hands in height ~ in a price range, of course, we can afford. In other words … a needle in a haystack. Still, that’s okay. I’m a firm believer that life unfolds as it should. I have good support and guidance around me, so when the right horse comes along he/she should be fairly easy to spot. At least I’m optimistic.

As always my primary concern, beyond my own safety, is the welfare of the horse, and so I want to ensure that whatever horse enters the picture will be appropriate for, and comfortable with, the kind of training I have in mind under the expert guidance of my coach. Horses are not one size fits all, so being as mindful of their individual needs and limitations is as important as being mindful of my own.

Of course, I am ever mindful that Bear is the one who has put me on this path. From the moment he stepped into my life nine years ago he has walked the bumpy road of healing with me, opening my heart and my mind to new and wonderful possibilities. He’s helped me attract into my life, when I was ready, the circumstances and people who have helped me along the path of personal growth during the past several years, and as such has placed himself at the heart of my healing program and my dreams of one day having my own equine experiential learning practice. With his good looks and charm, funny disposition and open heart he is a gift of sunshine that I’m really looking forward to sharing with those who are ready when the timing is right ~ for me … and him. ;-)

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy
Horse Mom

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

Happy Anniversary, Bear …

Nine years ago today, St. Patrick’s Day, my happy-go-lucky charm Shakespeare, aka Bear, trotted into my life.

And what a period of transformation this has been. So much growth and change, with so many exciting things to come.

We’re entering the best years of our lives.

Happy anniversary, Bear!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to one and all!

Grin and Bear~*~

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

 

Life Unfolds

The Indignity

~*~

Life unfolds, yes it does.

I haven’t written much lately as there’s just been so much to integrate. Often when we’re in the middle of a shift there’s just no point in writing about it. We need to experience it without the burden of recording it. I often have dreams where I see an incredible vista and and reach for my camera so I can capture it, but my camera doesn’t work. I’ve taken this to mean that sometimes life just needs to be savoured, in the moment, and that’s just how I’m kind of looking at things right now. For no matter how I plan ~ to take a vacation or whatever ~ nothing seems to be falling into place. The shutter won’t work. So, I observe the unfolding of life.

With Bear all I can do is my best to keep him comfortable and happy. Fortunately, as I’ve noted before, he is a sensible soul and is taking his confinement, due to a suspensory ligament injury, remarkably well. In fact, Wendy made the comment the other day that he’s the best rehab horse, in terms of his behaviour, that she’s ever come across ~ and she’s known and cared for many. So, I have this for which to be grateful. Bear is doing his bit to get well again.

Still, the end result is uncertain and a long way away.

He had his two-month ultrasound check-up last Friday. This was an opportunity for Dr. Maggie to see how well the injury is healing. The good news is that the lateral suspensory desmitis is looking better than it was two months ago. The lesions in the affected tissue are reducing in size and the prognosis seems favourable for a reasonably full recovery. I qualify that to mirror the words the good doc shared with me in conjunction with this ~ because of Bear’s already dropped suspensory ligaments in both hind legs it is unlikely he’ll ever be back in full work again, i.e. no more dressage training. He’ll be a lovely hack horse ~ one with whom I can do some light work and go for rides on the trails ~ but that’s about it.

If I hadn’t been through the last two months of hand walking and meditating and soul searching with Bear this might have been difficult news to take. But the fact is, I more or less came to the conclusion some time ago that Bear’s destiny is to be numero uno in my emerging therapy herd.

When I consider the sensitive soul he is and the stress he endured as I was managing both menopause and adrenal fatigue in those years when we should have been focusing on his training; and I consider the anxiety and panic and fear (mine and others’) he was exposed to and which coloured everything we did, and what a good boy he was under those circumstances, I feel he’s done enough. At this age and stage of his life it would be unfair of me to burden him with my dressage dream. Besides, his beautiful body is not designed to be the dressage horse I have in mind ~ he’s weak where he needs to be strong, and I don’t want to exacerbate his physiological problems by pushing him into work for which he is obviously not suited.

So, my kind-hearted, sensitive and funny boy is destined for life as a healer and that’s okay by me … and him, as it happens. He loves to make people happy. In the meantime, we focus on healing this injury as best we can and continue to deepen our connection as we move forward toward the next chapter of our lives together.

The dressage dreams still live …

Having said all that, my dressage dreams still live. I may be in my early 50s, and I may be experiencing the dreaded gravitational slide into old(er) age, but riding is still important to me, and as long as there is air to breathe and I have a pulse, I’m going to ride. And not just riding for the sake of it ~ I want to challenge myself to a higher level of performance.

I’ve never been in a position to really test myself with the support of good people around me who understand and care about my dreams. Now is my time. As I mentioned to Wendy the other day, it’s time for me to find out what I’m really made of as a rider. I have the coach and a good support system around me. Is it possible to draw from a life time of accumulated riding experience and skill the horsewoman I’ve always dreamed of being?

I hope so. And to this end I’ve begun the search for another suitable horse, either to lease or buy. This may take a long time … and it may not. It’s a matter of being open and aware and of knowing exactly what I want. And I want a horse properly trained in classical dressage with a few miles under his/her belt. I’m not interested in training a youngster. I want the stability of a horse who knows the work and is happy to do it. It’s early days yet, but I have no doubt when the timing is right life will unfold and he, or she, will trot onto the radar. (She may have already …)

Still, I’m not rushing into anything. Bear is my first priority, and he knows what’s up because I’ve told him. And I dare say, given his relaxed and happy attitude while he’s healing, he has no problem handing over the reins to another horse who really enjoys the work and is more physically capable to do the kind of dressage training I have set my heart on.

Bear continues to set the example for me of patience, and while it is difficult to see the end from the beginning sometimes, I have faith that life will unfold as it should and we will enjoy the next stage of our journey together in an even more meaningful way.

Sad News …

This past Thursday afternoon Konnor, Wendy’s long-time and beloved equine companion, succumbed to a sudden heart attack by the gate in his paddock. He was a 21-year-old, retired Prix St. George dressage competitor with a noble spirit and a tender heart. A barn favourite, Konnor will be greatly missed.

RIP Konnor

Konnor

~*~

Yes, life unfolds and too soon it is the end. We must make the most of every moment, for we are not promised the next.

And on that note I doubt I need to remind you to … nurture what you love.

Dorothy
Horse Mom

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

 

Why The Long Face?

 

The Long Face

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
~ Hal Borland ~

~*~

Bear and I are so ready for spring.

Are you?

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy
Horse Mom

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

Slow and Steady

snow day

~*~

The hibernation continues. Nothing is happening in a hurry. We’re not going anywhere soon.

It’s day 41/120 of Bear’s rehab and recovery and, with no time in the saddle, I’ve had lots of time to think, and write and even explore some art again. Everything, it seems, is a meditation to understand where the path is leading next.

While Bear’s initial treatment period is 120 days I’ve become well aware a full recovery will take a lot longer than that. It’s going to be about a year before he’s back to the fitness he had before the injury occurred, assuming he heals well. So, perhaps it would be more accurate to say we’re at day 41/365 (+/-). Either way you look at it, it’s a long road to wellness that lies ahead.

Things are progressing slowly, as well they might. Bear is showing no obvious signs of improvement, nor does his injury appear to be getting any worse. The only shift so far seems to be reduced swelling in his afflicted ankle. It looks tighter, and this is good. So, at least we know we’re on the right track. We won’t get a true sense of how things look until Bear’s next ultrasound which is scheduled three weeks from now. In the meantime, we maintain the status quo.

Bear continues to relish this forced R&R, and is being a good boy for the most part ~ that is with the exception of one little escapade this past week that had Wendy in giggles. I wasn’t there when it happened, still the story goes that one morning, while Wendy was picking out Bear’s stall with him in there, he snuck out through the open door and went for a saunter through the barn, landing at Sam’s stall three doors down. (Sam was outside at the time). There, he happily tucked into Sam’s hay.

Wendy says that when she caught up with the naughty escapee his eyes were shining with guilty pride. He just looked so darn pleased with himself. That’s my boy! If we know one thing for sure, Bear knows how to amuse himself.

In fact, Wendy’s concerned that Bear’s taking his confinement a little too well and may not take kindly to going back to work when the time comes.

I guess we shall have to wait and see.

Speaking of carrots …

Carrot monster … which, of course, I wasn’t but you had to know the subject was going to come up sooner or later … I got savvy this week and bought in bulk. Yes, Bear has a mega-bag of carrots all to himself ~ a whole week’s worth of orange root vegetables. (Lest you’re under the impression he’s the only horse in the barn spoiled this way, he is not. His buddy, Midas, gave me the idea.)

The carrot addiction runs rampant through the barn and often we run out on the weekend. The next delivery isn’t until Wednesday. So, rather than augment Bear’s supply at the scandalously expensive supermarket ($3/5lb bag, I think), I’ve opted instead to go with a 50lb bag wholesale ($8) from the carrot lady. (I don’t have a head for numbers, so these may not be completely accurate, but you get the picture.) It’s more cost effective to indulge Bear’s carrot habit this way and there will be no carrot shortage for the foreseeable future.

Walkabouts and Sun Dogs …

Walkabouts this week have been unimaginative as the weather has been miserably cold. Yesterday we had -25C with -42C wind chill, and today is hardly better. Brutal! The only good thing about the extreme cold is the sun dogs come out to play in the deep blue winter sky around mid- to late-afternoon. We’ve seen a lot of those lately.

sun dogI’ll be heading out to the barn shortly, and dare say the regular routine may be slightly modified to account for the frigid conditions. We’ll see how things are when I get there. In addition to walking with Bear I’ve been practicing the occasional Wu Wei session in his stall where it’s slightly warmer. (Body heat, and all that). Usually my observations are limited to watching him bat around the nibble net while he’s tugging on hay and giving me the wooly eyeball. At any rate, it’s an opportunity to be with him in the moment; to go with the flow and empty my mind of all unnecessary thought. Just being there … with Bear … watching him in all his glorious contentedness helps to keep me grounded in this current reality.

And so, we return to my thoughts …

My head is full of them and, for the most part, they are contemplative.

My intention at the moment is to expand my window of tolerance. Be able to take on more without feeling overwhelmed by it, or even the idea of it. On the one hand I want to jump head long into new adventures and opportunities, and on the other it all seems a little too intimidating right now. This old pattern of behaviour exacerbated by adrenal fatigue requires new programming.

To this end I’ve been reading a couple of helpful books spurred by my studies in Facilitated Equine Experiential Learning last year.

The first is Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers: The Acclaimed Guide to Stress, Stress-Related Diseases, and Coping by Dr. Robert M. Sapolsky, a noted neuro-endocrinologist who’s undertaken considerable study on stress hormones and their impact on our lives. Reading this has certainly given me a better understanding of the parts stress and stress hormones have played in my evolution, and thus put me in a better position to manage it. As the title suggests it’s written in a language accessible even to the most non-scientific mind. (That would be me.) Now I have an even keener understanding of how my health deteriorated into adrenal fatigue; the hormones involved and why it has impacted my life the way it has, and what the ramifications would be if I don’t make adjustments to my lifestyle.

Well, as many of you will know, I’ve made plenty of adjustments to my life since the adrenal fatigue kicked in; surrounding myself with a great support team who’ve seen me through the worst and are helping me move into a life chapter where I feel stronger and healthier than ever. Still, the healing is ongoing. I have acquired a greater appreciation for my body and all that it’s been through over the years. This puts me in a more empowered position to be patient during the healing process, and helps me to appreciate even more the need for patience when it comes to helping Bear with his bum ankle.

Recovery takes time. I see that for myself, so I know it for Bear. I’m getting stronger in many ways. ~ the Pilates exercises I’m doing are more advanced than they were two years ago when I started, and my strength and stamina is getting better. Things will improve for Bear too, if we give the healing time.

The second book, Mindsight: The New Science of Personal Transformation by psychiatrist and author, Dr. Dan Siegel, is another insightful text helping me along this healing journey. It’s designed to help the reader “make positive changes in your brain and in your life;” creating new neural pathways that promote a healthier way of being so that old, dysfunctional behaviour patterns no longer have hold their power.

I’m really enjoying reading this book, too. It’s an exciting prospect to feel I can live life more expansively than was programmed into me as a child. I’m doing my best to let go of the old limiting ways and adopt new ones. What I’ve learned so far allows me to view Bear’s situation in an even more open-minded and life-affirming way; an opportunity to focus on the glass filling up rather than running empty.

Happy PairReading the two books together is, I’m finding, really beneficial. Both, from their own perspective, talk about the complexity of the brain and how hormones and stress and early life programming help to shape who we are. They also guide us to understand how it’s possible to facilitate change that helps us to live fuller lives. It’s exciting stuff, but it doesn’t mean any of it is easy. Still, it eliminates the need for drama and puts the victim mentality firmly where it belongs ~ on the neural pathway of dead ends.

This in and of itself is a great blessing, not only for me but, of course, for Bear. The more positive I am and the less stress I put on him, the better his chance of healing and the happier he will be.

Slow and steady wins the race. ;-)

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy
Horse Mom

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWork 2015

Keep on Keeping On

It’s been just about a month since Bear’s injury diagnosis. Things are proceeding along much as one might expect. The journey toward wellness continues.

Bear’s spirits are good. For a horse on stall rest he’s bearing up well (ha!), content to play tug-of-war with the hay in his nibble net and indulge my own boredom-alleviating practice of teaching him tricks.

I miss riding.

This week he learned how to smile on command. Perhaps it would be more correct to say he developed an obsession for it. Why? Because now he smiles, whether I ask him to or not, for the explicit purpose of getting a carrot. Even if I simply stand in front of him and look like I might say “Smile!” he stretches his neck, tilts his head, rolls his eyes and grins at me expectantly. He’s such a ham.

I try not to encourage him too much. On the other hand, his cheerfulness leads me to believe that, in spite of his confinement, he’s a happy boy and pretty content with his lot as it stands.

This is such a relief. A lot of horses are not so sensible under such circumstances.

Still, Bear pushed his luck a bit last week.

Let me explain …

Bear’s been good about following me around on our walkabouts in the arena lead-rope free. Turns out he lead me right into a false sense of security.

A week ago Friday a pall hung in the air with the news that Wendy, the barn manager, had been thrown from a horse the evening before and broken her wrist and fractured a bone in her pelvis. Such news is always disturbing. It’s a reminder that in spite of everything we might love about horses, there are inherent risks to being in their company ~ whether on the ground or in the saddle. Naturally, my thoughts were with her somewhat, leaving me feeling a little distracted.*

Still, I had Bear to think of too, so went about the business of bringing him into the arena for his walkabout. Just because of the unsettled nature of the day I decided to err on the side of caution and keep him on the lead rope while we walked around the cold arena.

As he was being sensible I decided to unhook him. He followed me around and, as usual, left a special delivery which I would need to pick up. While I walked to the far end of the arena to fetch the bucket and fork he wandered away by himself for a moment. No big deal. He was quiet and would, I knew, reconnect to supervise my cleaning efforts.

Usually he follows me and the bucket and fork back to the muck skip in the corner, but this time he wandered off again, sniffing at jumps or anything else that happened to capture his attention. Then, without warning, he dropped and rolled flopping back and forth and really grinding his day sheet into the sandy footing. This was accompanied by the obligatory grunts and squeals of delight which made me feel good for him. It had been weeks since he’d been able to give himself a good, self-administered back rub.

Of course, I watched admiringly and smiled as he launched back to his feet and gave himself a good shake. The next moment my look of admiration quickly changed to one of horror when, with a squeal and explosive expulsion of gas, Bear leapt into the air like a Lippizaner doing airs above the ground. I was even more horrified when he did it again … twice! He looked ever-so pleased with himself, snorting and blowing, ears pricked, eyes bulging, head periscoped and searching, I dare say, for the next opportunity to elevate my stress hormones.

“Bear! Stop!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. The vapours of my breath filtering through the freezing air; my heart racing. “Stop it, Bear … you’re not allowed to do that!”

He stood stock still. His majestic head held high; his nostrils snorting their own vapour in a kind of triumphant fanfare. Holy crap, what a magnificent animal. He turned and looked at me with the noncommittal air of someone consumed in their own moment. Concerned that he might try something stupid like that again I knew I had to do something to get his attention back on me and de-escalate his energy.

As horses read, and respond to, the energy in their environment it was clear to me I needed to de-escalate my energy first. I started focusing on my breath, deeply inhaling and exhaling in a way that would allow him to sense the retreat of my own upset energy. I did this for several breaths and, while doing so, made a conscious effort to relax my whole body, softening my core so he could read my body language to say it’s okay to come down now.

His response was almost immediate. He soon lowered his head to level, indicating the intensity had passed, and began to lick and chew to demonstrate some relaxation.

“Good boy, … come on, Bear, come be with me,” I encouraged in a soft voice that reflected my more relaxed state. I continued to breathe audibly.

He began to amble in my direction.

“Good boy … nice and slowly now …”

He stopped and sniffed at the cavelletti some 10 feet from where I stood. While he was thus distracted I quietly walked over to him and stopped a few feet away to acknowledge his personal space. He stopped sniffing and turned to face me, acknowledging my presence. We honoured this reconnection together. It was a sweet moment.

Then, without any further effort on my part, Bear wandered over to me and put his muzzle against my chest as if to apologize for his lapse in judgement. I stroked his neck and attached the lead rope to his halter, and we started walking again. It was then that I had a good long talk with him about how inappropriate his actions had been, and impressed upon him that since I am not allowed to ride him right now he’s not allowed to go leaping around as if nothing is wrong with him. It sends the wrong message and, more importantly, it could set his recovery back weeks.

I couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Still, since then his walkabouts have been limited to the lead rope.

What a twerp!

End note …

There have been two snow days this week (including today) where I haven’t been able to get to the barn to see my boy. Lovely Sarah has been pampering Bear for me on these days which is amazing as this allows me to rest easy that he will be okay in my absence. :-)

And this past Friday Bear had his third of three shockwave treatments. Now we have a month to wait until the next ultrasound which will tell us how the injury is healing. In the meantime, we simply keep on keeping on.

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy
Horse Mom

*Wendy is on her own brand of stall rest right now, and appears to be doing well.

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

 

 

Get Well Greetings from Spike Pearson … A Pictorial

Bear has received many greetings and warm wishes from concerned friends

This week, a special declaration of friendship from his buddy, Spike Pearson.

~*~

“Bear! Someone’s sent you a get well card!”

Good Penmanship

~*~

“For me?”

For Me?

~*~

“That’ right … Look!”

Compelling Reading

~*~

“What does it say?”

With Love

~*~

“Oh, how lovely! Look at all the carrots. Would you like one?”

Get Well Carrots

~*~

“That’s a silly question!”

Thank You, Spike

~*~

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Spike Pearson! You’re the best!”

Spike Pearson

~*~

Bear is such a lucky boy to have such good friends.

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy
Horse Mom

Next update coming soon …

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

Things Are Getting Silly Now … and a Sonnet

Meeting Lucky

Bear meets his lucky charm for the first time …

~*~

For good or ill things are getting silly now. Probably for good since a little bit of levity is a welcome change and living in the doldrums is no fun at all.

It’s week three ~ some 24 days into Bear’s treatment for an injured lateral suspensory ligament ~ and with the dust finally beginning to settle, finding stimulating ways to amuse ourselves in the depths of frigid winter is high on our list of priorities.

Thankfully, Bear continues to be cooperative and sensible during his convalescence, and the comic side of his character is once again taking centre stage. (Or perhaps I’m simply able to see it again. Amazing what happens when you open your eyes.)

During our most recent hand walking excursions, with the arena sound system set to the classical music station and Bear now on free walk (I believe the fact that his blanket stays on while we do our walkabout helps him to understand this is not an opportunity to go running off steam) he’s been following me around like a happy puppy dog. And, just like the proverbial hound out for a walk with his/her mistress, within minutes of our perambulation he leaves me a special delivery, which I then dutifully clean up under his expert supervision. After making a deposit in the bucket at Poo Corner, we continue our walkabout, and while I hum along to Mozart or Thomas Tallis or whoever, Bear ambles behind me, gently running his nose back and forth along the fake furry fringe of the hood on my winter overcoat. He’s ever so tactile.

Lately Bear’s been learning how to bow

Learning to bow has come about as a natural result of the carrot stretches I’ve been integrating into our daily walks to help keep him bendy.

Bear is a fast learner, so teaching him to bow has been easy. (He’s also rather motivated by the promise of an orange root veggie reward.) Being the smart apple he is, he’s taken this exercise one step further and bows without prompting.

For instance, we’ll be engaged in our walkabout (we walk dressage test patterns to cure the monotony) when I’ll sense he’s stopped somewhere behind me. I turn around.

“What’s going on, Bear?” I’ll ask with some amusement.

He’ll give me a knowing look with those big, baby browns and then gaze down at his front feet, one of which will be placed forward of the other. Next thing I know he’s bowing for me. Forgive me … for the carrot he knows is padding my pocket.

Bowing

Carrot, please …

 ~*~

Oh, my goodness … he’s so cute! And just for a moment I’ll forget this wretched injury vortex in which we’re holed up and simply revel in this touching moment of joy we share.

Of course, he’s rewarded for his effort and initiative, and then I make sure to move him forward quietly so he understands the moment is ended. (Otherwise we might be stuck there for some time while he demonstrates his bowing prowess by constantly switching which leg he brings forward and bowing and repeating. … Gosh, I hope I haven’t created a monster.) As we continue his free walk, we stop to practice his bowing for as many carrot pieces as I have left in my pocket. He’s always wander struck when my pocket is finally empty.

Still, twenty minutes of hand walking goes quickly when interspersed with a little silliness accompanied by classical music.

At least we finish with smiles.

Speaking of smiles … doing so on command is next on the trick roster. I’ll keep you posted.

And now … a Word from Poet’s Paddock

Meditation 2

Shakespeare musing …

~*~

Naturally, Poet’s Paddock is empty these days, but Poet’s Stall doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. Still, Shakespeare (Bear’s registered name and creative alter ego) has had plenty of time to contemplate his navel and conjure some poetic fluff.

As many of you know, dear Shakespeare has a penchant for poetic rumination (visit PoetsPaddock for more) and from time to time I have been known to indulge his flights of fancy in this blog.

Herewith a sensitive rendering from our equine muse, transcribed, of course, by yours truly …

~*~

Sonnet XXVII

One hundred days and twenty in this stall
To rest and watch as others’ worlds go by.
And restless though I be as bouncing ball
More sad I am to hear my mother sigh.
Though side by side this journey now we trace
Our joys and sorrows cannot be the same
Tis not t’ward a finish line we race
For she is well and I, perchance, am lame.

Neigh, step by step while on this pitted path
Together wobble we this journey scorned,
Still in our hearts we harbour little wrath
For out of battles victories are born.
And though the days seem long and move e’er slow
This too shall pass, and to new heights we’ll grow.

~*~

 So, there you have it. This week is a little more light hearted, a little silly, and I pray this will continue to be the case as we move forward with Bear’s recovery. It is, perhaps, how we’ll be able to maintain our sanity during this dormant period.

As mentioned in my last post I’ve learned to acknowledge that this is, perhaps, an opportunity for further healing on my part as well. Little signs along the way are showing me this is, indeed, the case. I miss riding, make no mistake, but the intense cold makes it easier for me to focus on what’s really important right now and that’s the healing journey. I’m putting my faith in the process. Perhaps at the end of this Bear and I will come out stronger than ever and life will open up even more than I imagined.

I’m hopeful.

Nurture what you love …

Dorothy
Horse Mom

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015

Going With The Flow

 

Shadow~*~

It’s day 18/120.

A little over two weeks have passed since Bear’s injured suspensory diagnosis and things seem to be progressing well. Thankfully, my emotional roller coaster has levelled out as I’ve become more accepting of this unexpected turn of events. I’ve also gained a better understanding of shock.

One thing I’ve learned from this experience is that we should never underestimate the impact of shock, no matter how minor we consider it to be. Shock disorients and unbalances us in all kinds of insidious ways, impairs thought processes and wears us down. Allowing the dust to settle during a time of personal crisis is crucial before we make important decisions if we’re to live without regret.

Of course, Bear doesn’t really make decisions … he simply goes with the flow ~ something I can still afford to do better. He’s has managed to settle into the new routine without all the drama. He is perfectly content, while in his confinement, to amuse, and be amused ~ eating, sleeping, engaging in Jim Carrey-like facial contortions. He’s accepted his lot ~ a reminder for me to do the same ~ to go with the ebb and flow of life and be with what is; to respond to events appropriately as they happen and then, as the proverbial contented horse, go back to grazing. It’s a challenging lesson, to be sure, but here’s Bear, in his wisdom, showing me the way. I always knew he was more than just another handsome face.

For me, as always, personal awareness is key. While I struggle with old issues triggered by the shock of Bear’s injury I realize that to face them head on and deal with them mindfully is the best possible course of action. In an odd kind of way, Bear’s convalescence is giving me yet another opportunity to heal some old emotional wounds and, as an added bonus, get appropriate rest as well. Healing, emotional or otherwise, takes energy and can be tiring. So, we need rest.

Let’s see … there are only nine-and-a-half weeks of this course of treatment left (but who’s counting?). A quick calculation tells me May 6 marks the beginning of the next stage, whatever that happens to be. That’s well into the spring. Thus, as I gaze into my crystal ball I foresee Bear and I languishing in hibernation mode, getting lots of rest. ;-)

So, that’s the scheme of things for now. I don’t have another horse to ride at the moment, so my option is forced R&R with Bear. There’s no point in bemoaning something that cannot be changed. Life happens and, as my dear boy keeps reminding me, it’s best just to get on with it as best you can … and smile.

The Routine …

Naturally, we’ve developed a new routine and it appears to be working well.

In the mornings before I arrive, Bear helps ~ a loose interpretation to be sure ~with the chores. Wendy rotates him between stalls (for a change of scenery) while the barn is being cleaned and, being the enterprising equine he is Bear finds all kinds of opportunities to make himself useful. Cleaning up residual grain in his buddies’ feed tubs and scarfing remnant hay are his first priority. He hates wastage.

By 11 a.m. or so, his arduous tasks complete, Bear’s back in the comfort of his own freshly cleaned stall, indulging in a generous helping of hay plunged into the depths of the nibble net he’s borrowing from his generous buddy, Midas.

By the time I arrive (around noon) Bear’s almost finished his morning hay ration or is lost in a mid-day snooze. We say our hellos and then head into the arena for a little hand walking which, as I’ve discovered, can be considered more entertainment than exercise. Sure, he gets to stretch his legs, but more importantly he can gaze admiringly at his reflection in the mirror, or play follow the leader, or hunt for carrots in my pocket. The possibilities are endless. Eventually, when the weather warms up and the ice melts, we’ll be able to go outside for a toodle, but for now these moments of mirth and perambulation indoors must be our lot.

After 10-15 minutes of freezing our butts off, we head back to the barn for his daily grooming ritual, complete with more carrots and the occasional wintergreen mint. He likes those. As well, his bandages are changed, his hay net refilled, his stall picked clean, his water topped up and, oh yes, a heaping handful of yummy orange root vegetables are left in his feed bin.

Not spoiled at all.

The Perfect Day … New Shoes and a Massage

Who wouldn’t like a fancy new pair of shoes and a massage to brighten up a cold winter’s day?

Who indeed? (sigh …)

Monday was not my day for a pedicure and a back rub. It was Bear’s.

As luck would have it his appointments with Farrier Tim and REMT Jaime just happened to fall on the same day.

Egg-zactly what the doctor ordered …

Proper hoof care is important, and perhaps even more when a leg injury is involved. Even though Bear’s right hind suspensory is bandaged 24/7 for the duration of his 120-day confinement, it requires extra support to aid healing. The egg-bar shoe, which Dr. Maggie, Bear’s attending vet from McKee Pownall Veterinary Services prescribed as part of his treatment, is designed specifically for this purpose.

As the name might suggest, this shoe is egg-shaped. It fits onto the hoof like any other shoe, however part of it juts out behind to help take pressure off injured suspensory ligaments.

Naturally, Bear enjoyed having his back feet trimmed and measured, and his new custom loafers properly fitted. He’s simply loves the attention. For my part, it was when Farrier Tim asked if the snow pads should be left under Bear’s front shoes (and I said no because, of course, Bear won’t be going outside until the ice and snow are a fading memory) that the rehab road ahead took on the appearance of a winter prairie highway … endless into the horizon. (I try not to think about it.)

Oh, well. At least Bear now has the shoes for the journey.

… and a massage, just because …

About an hour after his pedicure Bear was happily in massage mode. Floppy-eared, soft-eyed, and as zoned into this gentle muscle manipulation as anyone could be. Maybe I need to book one of these for myself … hmmmm.

spa time

 

So, what about a little pampering for this Horse Mom?

Yes, indeed. What about it?

Between the six-month Facilitated Equine Experiential Learning certification program in which I participated the last half of 2014 (an amazing learning and healing experience) and this proverbial blow to the solar plexus things have been pretty intense of late. A change of scenery is definitely in order. Figuring out what that is, where it’s going to be and organizing it is another matter.

My biggest challenge is that living with adrenal fatigue for the past three years has, out of necessity, made my world quite small. My life has been at home and at the barn, with the occasional accompanied trip abroad which I always had to manage carefully. This experience provided me with great insight on recovery time and maintaining a low profile while the body does what it needs to heal. Still, now that I’m feeling more robust I want to expand my comfort zone again. Just how to do this without overwhelming my still recovering nervous system is the pressing question.

I expect I’ll be asking similar questions once Bear starts into work again in a few months. How much can I push him without risking re-injury to that suspensory? See … we are not so different.

It’s all about mindfulness, of course, and being open. As I’ve said before, things invariably unfold as they should and it’s been my experience that going with the flow is always a good practice. Doesn’t mean it’s easy, but it does work. Just ask Bear, my going-with-the-flow guru.

Nurture what you love,

Dorothy
Horse Mom

P.S. Yesterday Bear had his second round of shock wave therapy. While it’s too early to tell if there’s been an improvement in his injured suspensory we can say for certain that his condition is stable. (Hahahaha … :-) )

©Dorothy Chiotti … Aimwell CreativeWorks 2015