Difficult Conversations

Welcome, Mugwump Chronicle Readers! (and all others, of course.)  Mugwump featured a past blog post I wrote on her blog today, and one of the reader comments inspired me to write a follow up.  The original blog can be found here.  It's titled "Lemons," and is about my experience of buying Rocky, falling in love with him, and then realizing that he has HYPP N/H after receiving his registration papers from the friend I bought him from.  One of the Mugwump readers asked if I ever talked to "Rite," my friend who sold me Rocky, about not disclosing his HYPP status to me prepurchase.  Here is the answer:

When I got Rocky's registration papers in the mail and saw the dreaded "HYPP N/H" letters on the side, my heart sank.  One of the people I boarded with at the time had been concerned that her horse was HYPP positive, and had mentioned a few things about it.  Essentially, I knew that it wasn't good but not any concrete details.  I headed to the internet and did some research to learn what exactly I was dealing with.

I was still grieving the loss of my first horse just three months earlier, so seeing that my new horse I had already started falling in love with may have a seizure and drop dead was terrifying.  For a while, I sat and cried with my laptop, wondering what I should do.  I didn't want to return Rocky; HYPP notwithstanding, he was exactly what I wanted in a horse and my rational brain knew that horses can have accidents or other sudden medical issues.  I had learned that fact all too well with the untimely death of my first horse.

I felt such rage at Rite, for misleading me, for breeding Rocky in the first place, for continuing to breed his HYPP N/H sire at will.  I thought about how she feeds all of her horses a rich alfalfa diet, and came to the conclusion that she did not have the same panic response that I did.  The potassium in alfalfa can set off HYPP symptoms, but she didn't seem to either know or be bothered by that knowledge.

Finally, when I had processed the situation enough on my own to not send a nasty, horrible email, I did send one.  I don't remember exactly what I said, but I tried to keep my feelings in check the best I could.  I asked if Rocky had ever had HYPP symptoms, what they were and how severe they were if he had experienced them. I think I commented about being surprised to see that he was a carrier on his papers, and that it would have been nice to know earlier.

She responded by saying that he'd never been symptomatic, nor had Checkers, his sire.  Rite explained that if he were to have an attack, it would look like "he was standing on his tippy toes" with his hind end, and that it would go away after a little bit.  I stared at that email for a long time.  I didn't know what to say; she knew enough about HYPP to know that it would be a muscle seizure, but apparently not enough to know that he could choke to death?  Obviously choking to death would be a worst case scenario, but it has happened.

I finally decided that nothing I could say to her was likely to make a difference. She was an adult, had made her choices and chooses to believe that HYPP is not a big deal.   Rite recently talked about gelding Checkers, and I was very supportive of the idea.  Other than that, I chose not to pursue the matter any further.  I think that Rite honestly believes HYPP is not a real problem, so she thought she was acting fairly. 

In many ways I have been very lucky to have Rocky.  He has a great mind, tries hard, is sweet and steady.  A good deal of those traits come from his breeding, as both Amber (his dam) and Checkers are good minded, calm, and try to please their rider.  He also came with the upbringing I wanted, having received all proper vaccinations and farrier care.   Rocky was also desensitized from a young age, again adding to his value as a trail horse for me.

Rocky's good traits that he got from Rite added to my decision to let this thing lie.  I couldn't see any good come from "having it out" with Rite, and at the end of the day, I love and want my horse. 

If you had been in my shoes, what would you have done?  What do you think the "right" course of action would be? 

A new look for Rocky

The last two weeks have been really busy so I haven't been able to get out to the barn very much- as in, twice, which is why I wrote the Snow White review rather than more Rocky stuff.  C'est la vie.  I've got a great trail ride to tell you guys about, but before that I want to talk about my time at the barn yesterday.

Pretty, new fly sheet!

Rocky got a new fly sheet for my birthday, and he looks so shiny and clean underneath it! (knock on wood) I groomed and tacked him up as usual, then did some flexing exercises and worked on trying to be light, asking him with the lightest touch and then raising the pressure if he resisted.  I tried to be conscious of asking lightly every time I used a new cue, rather than falling into the trap of staying at the last pressure level that worked. Thanks, Mugs!

He responded pretty well, but he'll be better after I have been consistent with him for a few days. I can't blame him for being a little off after not being worked with for about two weeks. 

So after doing that I thought I would take him on the small trail loop to work on leg yielding across the trail, more lightness exercises but in a different environment.  He wasn't thrilled with going out on the trail, instead trying to get me to let him go down the driveway- which ends at a big highway.  I said "no thanks" for today, and then proceeded to ask, then tell him not to eat grass/leaves/ferns while going down the trail.  I ended up popping him in the head with the end of my mecate rein, which got him up and trotting but at least proved that I was serious about the not grazing while working thing. 

A few minutes later, he tossed his head and I saw a flap of skin under his mane come up to reveal a one inch by one inch wound on his neck.  It was right on the top of his neck, hidden under his mane.  I gasped and leaned forward to look at it.  It was about a third of the way down his neck from his ears, and every time he shook his head the flap jiggled.  I finished the loop with him and had my barn manager look at it.

Yeah, it's kinda gross.

See the flap? It's to the left of the raw wound.

You can see daylight! and how deep the wound is.

She gasped, too, but then relaxed after seeing that it wasn't as bad as it initially looks. I could tell that she felt terrible about not having noticed it before I did, but I assured her that I had completely groomed and tacked him up without knowing it was there- I had skipped brushing his mane. She advised me to shave the mane around it, clean it out and see how strongly attached the flap of skin was.

I shaved immediately around the wound, then cleaned up his bridle path as long as I was there.  I stood there looking at his neck, which had a clean bridle path, then a chunk of mane the length of my palm, and then another patch of shaved neck. Awkward.  I decided to shave off all of his mane to the wound, sortof like the show Arabian bridle path.  Rocky looks like an Arab now! (ha....ha...not.) But it does look better than it did. I braided the rest of his mane in a french braid going down his neck so that it would stay out of the wound. I thought it looked pretty, and I did a decent job for my first attempt at that type of horsey hairdo.

Shaved bridle path, braided mane.  This was the day after I originally did the braid though, so it's  messier than it was yesterday.

The flap, on the other hand, was just the wrong amount of attached- enough of a deep attachment (about a thumb width) to make me not want to pull it off, but not enough that it looks like it will reattach. So now we need to wait for it to die and fall off.  In the meantime, I put triple antibiotic ointment on it and put him in a stall so his horse friends won't help him get it full of dirt.  He happily clomped through his stall and out into the run attached to it to sniff the ground and try to get some grass. 

He will live, and his mane will look awkward growing back in, but it was pretty horrifying to suddenly see that flap of skin come up under his mane.  C'est la vie.