Difficult decisions--Hannah

My friend Julie recently made an extremely tough and heart-wrenching decision. On Friday, she had her lovely 10 year old Thoroughbred Hannah (Naughty and Daring) humanely euthanized.

Hannah was the mother of Julie's gorgeous young mountain (aka Parker), the nearly three year old Westphalian gelding she has recently started under saddle. Parker inherited all of the best of Hannah's qualities. When he was inspected and branded for registration with the Westphalian verband, Hannah was inspected as well and approved for inclusion in the Main Mare Book.

When I met Julie, I had never ridden horses outside of an arena (lesson) setting. Her go-to horse for inexperienced riders was Hannah. My first trips outside the arena were on this gallant mare. We trailered to a couple places in the area. The first big group ride I went on, the Friday Before Mother's Day Ride in Valparaiso, NE, Hannah was my mount (picture below).

Hannah also carried my sister (Sarah) when she came for a visit this past September, and we rode in the fields around Julie's house.

When Hannah was sound and fit, she was incredibly fun to ride. She had a wonderful, smooth canter with huge strides. She collected beautifully and carried herself gracefully.

However, Hannah had suffered at the hands of her previous owners, before Julie purchased her to use in her breeding program. She had been raced a few times and bore a few scars from the experience. Her feet were horrible from laminitis, and it took a long time for Julie's farrier to correct them. Even after that, she wasn't always sound. She had very flat feet, and the large chunks of stone on the gravel roads around Julie's house were very uncomfortable for her.

Hannah also had problems with her eyes. She had a cataract in one eye, and the other had required surgery. In spite of these handicaps, she put her heart into whatever was asked of her. However, over the years, her eyesight began to fail her. This became apparent in little ways, such as increased aggression towards the other horses (she was an alpha). It was never so clearly demonstrated, though, as the day we took her away from her home environment to be euthanized.

Hannah was very familiar with trailer loading, but that morning she hesitated quite a bit before clambering into Julie's spacious two horse slant. She touched the floor with her nose, as if to assure herself that it truly was solid enough to support her weight. Her boy, Parker, stood at the fence and called frantically to his mother.

When she came out of the trailer, Hannah didn't even appear to notice the other horses standing in a corral not more than fifty feet away. She only became aware when they called to her, and then she lifted her head from her nervous grazing to neigh back, searching for them. I truly don't believe she saw them at all from that distance. There were a few dogs at this place, and Hannah couldn't really tell where they were. When Julie brushed out her tail, she lifted her back leg threateningly, probably thinking it was one of the dogs behind her. She would try to face her "good" eye (the one that had undergone surgery) to try to find Julie, but that eye also was failing her.

In the end, I think Hannah was relying more on feel than sight. She wouldn't have been safe to keep, even as a broodmare, because she could have unintentionally injured her own foal without seeing it. She was too insecure anymore to ride down the road by herself. The likelihood of her suffering injury in Julie's hilly pasture or harming one of the other horses increased greatly as her sight dimmed. That doesn't ease the ache left by her passing, merciful and swift though it was.

Julie's tribute to her mare:

"On Friday April 30th I took my Thoroughbred mare Hannah to a place up North Iowa, to be euthanized and then cremated. Her time of death was approx. 2:15 PM Friday afternoon. Got many pictures of her and hugged and loved up on her a head of time. Expressed my love to her and asked or hoped that I was able to provide her with the best care and a happy life while she lived at my farm.

This was the first time I've ever experienced a horse euthanizing. Wasn't sure if I wanted to be there while it happened but decided I had to for many reasons. Wasn't as violent as I thought it would have been but it did take her a good 10 minutes before her heart stopped beating and for her to stop breathing. The vet was shocked that she was fighting it that much and was trying to hold on. He had to give her 3 different syringes of the stuff to stop her vitals within that 10 minute period. He did sedate her twice before he administered the drugs to euth. her. She fell pretty gracefully and stayed down . Didn't really twitch or kick. I saw her eyes wiggling back and forth. Toward the end she took quite a few deep breaths and the vet checked and there was no heart activity but her brain was still trying to get her to breath for a few seconds more. Finally you could see that her sides quit going in and out and she quit breathing. It was a hard decision for me to make but seeing her after I took her out of her home environment, I got to see how she was really relying on sound and touch to recognize things or to find out where noises were or what items lay in front of her (treats, curry comb and etc.).

See Hannah has a huge cataract in her left eye and her right eye had to have surgery in the past from her scratching it somehow. She didn't have 100% eyesight out of either eye and over the years it must have gotten worse. 

 

When we got there and unloaded her, I could see a frown on her face and she was worried when we got there because she didn't know what was going on and couldn't see very well to know where she was. She kept trying to know where I was when I walked away and if someone else was holding her she would fidget until I came back and held the lead rope. I bawled a lot that day. I was so proud to have her as my horse. She was perfect in every way and was the best example of the good qualities that the Thoroughbred horse breed entail.

 

When we unloaded her off the trailer she was on a big patch of grass grazing and off to the left, was a corral with quite a few horses in there. She didn't see them or know they were there till she heard them make a noise and call to her. I didn't really realize at home how bad her eyesight was because she was so familiar with everything at the house. It wasn't till I took her out of her element that I realized how bad it was. Seeing and knowing about that made me feel better about my decision to put her down. I had suspected but kept doubting if I was doing the right thing and needed to wait longer to make that decision for her.

 

I am glad that I have a foal from Hannah so I can still have a part of her bloodline in my herd. Hannah was a kind willing mare that had the best temperament and athletic ability. She was used as a lesson horse for a while and also taught many beginner riders how to ride. She was a special

mare that will always be in my heart. I loved her dearly.

 

On a good note::: The same day my beloved Thoroughbred mare was released from this earth, my friend miss Judy Willemssen was blessed with a new life with her gorgeous Lipizzan colt. Judy's mare had her foal at 5:30 PM on Friday the 30th. Congrats Judy!  A great day to be remembered in many ways.

Internet site to the place Hannah went... (I picked out a real nice urn for her. They'll send back the urn and a portion of her ashes for keep sake)... 

R.I.P miss Hannah."

Happy April!!

Here's a trivia fact that's funny but true: my parents were married on April Fool's Day in 1967. They have yet to call the joke off...

My oldest niece, Samantha (Sammie), just celebrated her fourth birthday a few days ago. It's amazing how quickly the time flies! My younger niece, Nicole, will turn one at the end of the month.

Another exciting recent development would be my first ride of the year on each of my hairy ponies! I haven't made a lot of time to work with them, as busy as I've been lining up my new job and getting the house ready to sell. I decided on Friday that I would ride them both, wind or not (the wind had been blowing nonstop since the weather started to warm up--big surprise in Iowa, let me tell you...).

Jazzy was such a sweetheart! I had not ridden her since July, due to various reasons (abscess, crack in hoof from abscess down that had to grow out, starting Caly, getting trail time on Zep, weather). She had no objections to me saddling her at liberty. She stood perfectly for me to mount, and walked off with just the slightest squeeze of the leg. She resisted turning to the right (the side with her partially blind eye), but she didn't act up at all. I kept her in the round pen, and we trotted a little bit before I called it good. I retrieved Zeplin from where I had tied him on the outside of the pen (that boy really needs to work on standing tied patiently again--he used to do it very well). Jazzy settled in easily on the rail.

Zeplin is a four year old. Anyone who has dealt with a horse of this age (equitable to a human teenager) understands exactly what that means. He currently has the attention span of a gnat, distracted by everything and desiring to test his limits. He is far too comfortable around me and follows me happily, but he doesn't like my attempts to send him away. The best way for me to get him to longe is using a plastic sack on a stick, but he doesn't listen like Jazzy. I'm sure a lot of it is my own inexperience as a trainer, but one thing I really like about Jazzy is how responsive she is to my cues. I'm positive that it's because she grew up basically untouched. Zeplin is a spoiled brat, and while he knows better than to try to run me over or crowd my space, he still needs constant reminders of his place lower down in the herd (and not just from me, from Jazzy as well!!). This spring I'm going to have to step up his groundwork a LOT!!

Zeplin mouthed at everything while I groomed him (still building a second horse from his shedding hair). He didn't mind being saddled (at liberty) until I tightened the girth. However, in the end he realized he wouldn't escape his fate, so he allowed me to finish tacking him.

Mr. Antsy didn't want to stand still so I could get on him, so I stood on the overturned water trough I use as a mounting block and circled him around me whenever he scooted his furry butt away from me. Finally he was lined up next to me and stood still while I leaned over him and slapped at the saddle. However, once I swung my leg over, off he went again! Such a little turd!

I got Zep to stop briefly while I settled myself in the saddle and found the stirrups. He parked out, bracing against my weight. Just the slightest nudge and we were off, walking both directions of the roundpen. I kept him to a walk because he wouldn't relax and he felt testy. After a short time of reminding him to pay heed, I asked him to exit the roundpen and we walked into the yard.

Zeplin remained tense while we walked in circles in the pasture. He tried acting up a bit, but this boy lets you know years in advance when he's thinking of being naughty, and I easily diverted him with more work. He searched for things to balk at, and he tripped the first time I directed him over a log because he wasn't paying attention to where he placed his feet. We had a few episodes and fits, but for the most part he listened to my direction. I kept him to a walk because he never truly relaxed. I'm sure the wind didn't help at all.

Saturday I rode Jazzy again, but cut it short when Zeplin managed to open the clasp on his leadline and escape being tied to the rail. I sighed and slid off my patient red mare, quietly and quickly catching Zeplin to return him to his place on the panel. After that I worked Jazzy a little at liberty, then took her out still saddled to graze while I grabbed the silly gelding.

I pressed Zeplin around me using the leadrope as a longe whip. He bucked and kicked at me, but he moved his feet as I asked. My time was short, as I had promised Julie that I would help her put the second ride on her nearly three year old Westfalen gelding, Parker (aka The Mountain).

Way back at the end of February, I held Parker so that Julie could climb on his big back for the first time. She wasn't on him very long, and he remained on the leadline. The most exciting part came when she asked him to sidepass over to the bucket she used as a mounting block so that she could dismount. He understood and complied without a second thought!

Now it was time for the first ride off the line. I held Parker while Julie mounted, then I climbed on Vivian and rode around Julie's arena. Parker was hesitant and a bit sticky, but he didn't offer Julie any trouble. She rode him in a new rope hackamore.

Julie has done a lot of preparatory work with Parker (registered as Perpetual Motion). He has a very thorough and solid groundwork foundation. Parker will turn three next month. I have mentioned his dam, Hannah (TB), previously. His sire is the beautiful and extremely talented Pablo, who stands at Rainbow Equus Meadows in California. This boy is going to be HUGE (I tell Julie that he's definitely going to make it to at least 17 hands) and will be able to jump the moon when he's fully mature.

Towards the end of our session, Parker started to develop a little more confidence, and he slowly followed Vivian around the outer limits of the arena.

Julie worked Parker for about half an hour before sliding off his back and returning him to the barn. I continued to putz around the arena on Vivian, but the normally compliant grey mare felt pissy that day. She called after Parker frantically and refused to relax. After a time of walking her around the arena where she threw fits at little things, I stepped down and let Julie deal with her moodiness. It was most likely a combination of the wind and her being in season, since I know she's normally obedient and reliable.

The rest of the weekend consisted of more work on the house and little horse time. I probably won't have the chance to ride again until Thursday, that is if it's not raining!

A day with the 3 year olds

Yesterday Julie called me and told me she planned on trailering her Swedish Warmblood mare, Vivian, and her Westphalian gelding, Parker, over to my house. She wanted to ride Vivi with me and pony Parker. Vivi is a very "easy keeper" (I know the feeling!) and needs to trim down some so that she can do some more serious dressage work. Parker is only 2.5 years old and roughly the size of the (former) Sears tower. I told her Sybil planned on arriving around four to meet Miss Caly, so we should be able to ride before then.

Julie loaded her kids into the trailer and phoned to let me know she was on her way. Shortly thereafter, Sybil also called to inform me her plans had changed and she, too, was on her way. I tried to reach Julie to forewarn her but didn't get an answer.

I wanted to ride the Spotted Boy Wonder as well as Caly, since he has been nothing more than a pasture spud for several months. I caught him easily and led him to the roundpen. Right away he presented his pushy side, something I will not tolerate. I tied him to the corral panels and returned to the pasture to grab Caly.

Caly, my sweet, loving filly. The attention hound, the girl who loves to be petted and adored.

Caly took one look at me approaching with the halter and took off, flying down the length of the fence. Jazzy didn't know why she was running but didn't want to be left behind. Together they cantered to the corner and stopped to look at me. When I approached, Caly was off again, tossing her head and driving her black legs forward like a freight train. Her nostrils flared red. She dived around the round bales and tore down the short hill to the far side of the pasture, Jazzy trailing behind.

Frustrated, I decided to work with Zeplin for awhile and come back later to get Miss Priss.

Zeplin reverted to his best stallion imitation, trying to push past me as I led him to the back pasture. I asked him to walk on the longe line, pointing with my left hand and whirling the end of the rope at him with my right. He snorted and lightened his front feet, half rearing up at me. Oh dear, now I had to deal with two bratty three year olds. I didn't have my training stick with me, so I tied Mr. Stallion-Wanna-Be to a tree and retreated to the house to regroup.

A few minutes later I exited the house, wielding my orange stick with a plastic bag tied to the end in triumph. Zeplin wouldn't always longe with just the stick, so I added the bag for insurance. He saw the bag as I approached and half pulled back, even though it wasn't fluttering (I was holding it tight against the stick to keep him from panicking).

The Spotted Boy Wonder and I faced each other across the expanse of my 14 foot black and green leadline. He glared snottily at me, daring me to fix his adolescent attitude. I stared right back, pointed my left finger, and raised the right hand with the stick and bag. The breeze caught the happy little Walmart bag and slapped against it with an audible snap. Zeplin's eyes widened to the size of plates. He leapt straight in the air and bolted away from the dangerous, horse-hungry Bag-Monster. Fourteen feet of rope sprung taught from the ground and a jolt ran up to my shoulder from the arm at the end of that live line.

From there it became relatively easy to direct my ungrateful little turd. When I asked for the canter and shook that little bag at him, he responded like a trained racehorse. He slowed to a trot when I eased the pressure, although he wouldn't drop to a walk. I switched his direction a few times for good measure. Finally I dropped the demonic stick to the ground and he faced me, sides heaving as he gulped in great breaths of sweet, precious air. His attitude had dispelled, chased away by the ghost of Walmart. I asked him to yield his hind- and forequarters, desensitized him some with the rope, taught him to move away from pressure on his girth area, and called it good. He followed me obediently back to the roundpen where I gave him a couple treats and left him while I went for Caly.

Caly still wouldn't let me near her, which is highly unusual for my round little pony. I gave up on chasing her down and settled on bribery. A feedbag with a small amount of grain held high and given a small shake drew two galloping mares to me with an invisible string. I allowed Caly to take a mouthful of grain, then I tied on the rope halter and left the remaining feed to Jazzy.

Caly gave me no more problems. She longe-lined easily, for the most part responding quickly to my vocal commands. We had just finished when Julie pulled up with her trailer. Ever vigilant, Quimby the Guard Dog flew across the yard to "supervise" Julie's job of backing in the trailer. I called her, again and again, but she happily disregarded my order to return, intent on making sure Julie parked correctly.

*Sigh*

Was this the day for inattentive and rebellious four-legged children? I tied Caly and retrieved Quimby. For her insolence, the now-repentent canine was banished to her crate in the house for the remainder of the afternoon without even having the opportunity to greet her buddy Julie.

Julie unloaded Vivian and the small mountain she calls Parker. I think he's grown at least a foot since the last time I saw him. Anyways, she tied them to the rings on one side of her trailer and groomed them. I informed her that Sybil would be arriving earlier than expected, so we would have to wait to ride until after she left.

Vivian tied to the trailer last time Julie brought her over (September)

Julie tacked up Vivian while I searched for tack scattered across my house. I caught my sole free horse, Jazzy, and put her in the roundpen with Zeplin. Julie wanted to put Parker in the roundpen, so the horse shuffle commenced. I ended up tying Zeplin and Caly to the side of Julie's trailer opposite Vivian and Parker, then taking Jazzy to the back pasture. I opened the electric gate to the side pasture so that I could ride in there with Caly.

A strange orange compact car pulled into my driveway and parked behind my motorcycle. Sybil had arrived. I quickly introduced myself, pointed out Zeplin and Caly, then led her around the trailer to meet Julie. At that time, the skies opened up and large wet drops of rain began to fall. It wasn't a heavy rain, but it seemed to put a damper on our plans.

Sybil and I chatted while I saddled Caly. I wiped off the saddle with a towel. Fortunately, the rain trailed off and the weather looked clear again to ride. I admitted to Sybil that one of my great flaws with training my horses has been teaching them to stand for mounting. Caly illustrated my point by swinging out her ample butt when I stood up on the overturned water tank to mount. I did manage to get her lined up between the tank and the corral panels and slid onto the saddle. She immediately walked off, but not too far. Julie had already mounted vivian from the side of her trailer.

We rode our horses through the gate to the relatively level area of grass in my pasture. I warmed up Caly by walking her in circles around Sybil then asking her to do some trotting. She obliged with a light squeeze of my legs. I demonstrated Caly's walk, trot, a bit of a canter (I'm still a bit intimidated by the canter, especially on my greenies), halt, and back. For such an inexperienced pony, Caly responded well. Sybil had me walk and trot Caly towards and away from her in a straight line. Julie had wandered across the road to the open field beyond, and she was working Vivian. I called her to signal time to switch mounts. Julie is a much better rider than I am, so I wanted her to display all of Caly's capabilities in a more confident manner.

I climbed on Vivian's back while Julie demonstrated her moves to Sybil. Vivi and I crossed back into the field. When I asked her for a trot, she rose up before stretching out to trot, transfering her power to her generous rear motor. We rode back and forth along the road, mostly trotting. Vivi tried to break into a canter, but I pulled her back down to a trot. I rode back up my driveway just as Julie headed Caly out of the pasture. "I want to take her in the field because she's being lazy," she told me.

Caly moved out more for Julie in the pasture, but it was clear she was tiring. She had already been longe-lined and worked in the grass. The tilled farm ground was rough to navigate and wore out her young legs.

Jazzy and Parker hollered constantly at their buddies across the road. We scaled the embankment from the farmland to the road and dismounted once back on my property. I conversed with Sybil while untacking Caly. She hadn't even broken a sweat. Sybil reached out to pick up her hind leg, and Caly moved back, startled. A short session followed where Julie demonstrated appropriate technique for handling a horse's feet with approach and retreat while I held Caly against the trailer. Sybil took a few pictures of Caly, but she still had a lesson to teach in a nearby town so she had to hit the road.

"I think I'll leave Caly tied to the trailer while we ride," I told Julie. Zeplin was still tied, and I saddled him up for our trip. Sitting on him again, the first time since August, felt like coming home. The goofball is my boy through and through!

Caly watched us stroll down the driveway. Zeplin walked directly up to Julie's truck and touched it with his nose. He acted surprised to see one of the struggling cedar trees at the end of my drive, but I asked him to check it out and he overcame his apprehension. Strong and sure as always we strode down the gravel road, as if no time had elasped since our last ride. Julie and Vivian followed close behind.

Far ahead of us, Zeplin spotted some iffy objects. After harvesting the corn in the fields, the farmer had baled the stalks. The round bales lay in a neat row at the edge of the field. Zeplin never spooked, though he kept his gaze fixed intently upon the equine-eating creatures. We approached them with some trepidation. I nudged him into the field where he marched right up to one and touched it with his warm muzzle. We repeated the process with a bale in the row across the way. Vivian grabbed a mouthful from each bale she could reach.

Julie and I had a lovely time visiting. Vivian wanted to trot, so I allowed Zeplin to pick up his pace. He ducked his head and acted like he wanted to buck, so I spun him around and pushed him forward again. Good ol' Zeppers attempted that a couple more times over the course of our trip. He wasn't difficult to bring around, though. I laughed at each display of obstinance, noting to Julie that he warned you well in advance when he wanted to be naughty.

We trotted most of the length of the dirt minimum maintenance road. Vivian moved up into a canter, so I asked it of Zeplin. He obliged but ducked that heavy head again, and I wound up spinning him around to prevent him from bucking. Turd. I didn't ask again, but we resumed our nice jog.



Zeplin is a gawker. He pays far too much attention to what is going on around him than where he is placing his feet. That neck is always craning around, peering into the distance to see what may lurk out there. As a consquence, my pinto Ay-rab is prone to tripping now and again. It was on one such occasion that he stumbled to his knees and I rolled neatly over his burr-ridden neck. I landed on my well-padded rear looking up at the startled face of a pony who rapidly regained his feet. It's when Zeplin isn't trying to unseat me that I end up in the dirt!

I dusted off my breeches and checked over Spotted Boy's legs. They looked alright, nothing swollen or hot. I pulled him to the ditch along the dirt road and asked Julie to hold him while I swung aboard. I was very proud of myself for making it in one try, and doing so in a manner that actually appeared graceful! That certainly doesn't happen very often.

Some of the time on our jaunt I rode sans stirrups, my way of working more on developing my seat. I did use them for the trotwork and when I thought Zeplin might object to something. We turned around at the end of the minimum maintenance road to head back. Zeplin behaved most of the trip home. He reduced his pace, clearly worn out from our trek. I think he did fabulous for a greenie who hadn't been ridden in a few months!

Today I'm sore all over, like someone beat me with a two-by-four. *Sigh.* Someday I'll be in prime riding shape and 50 pounds lighter. Someday.

Zep in front of Julie's barn (August)