I'm one of those people that has to believe that God has a sense of humor. More than that, I think I believe that so that I can justify thing to myself sometimes....that being said, I'll relay my tale.
I realize that with all things considered it could have been much worse, but what happened is still so disappointing and disheartening. I spent seven or eight months watching my belly and Woodrow's grow bigger-mine from my baby girl's rapid development and Woodrow's from his constant consumption of grass and hay. I was happy to turn him out and give him a break for awhile, a good lay off never hurts a solid, finished horse like him. More often than not, they're all the better for it when you bring them back from their little vacation. As it was, I had been a nervous wreck about things--I'm the type that like to be on one everyday until I think they're "ready", then I'll relax things a bit and go on an every other day basis to keep a horse legged up. With Woodrow that's always worked best for him, once he's in shape he really is able to stay in condition with just the most minimal amount of riding you can imagine. It's really handy in a situation like mine, when a "minimal amount" of riding is all he's going to get at times. I was extremely hesitant about the whole thing, but the more I rode him the better he got. He was soft and responsive, more so than when I had been running and competing on him last winter. His feet weren't in the best shape, but his feet are always a tad on the shoddy side, no matter how often Jason gets under him to trim or shoe him. I suppose that's just part of him.
He came back so quickly and easily that I was elated! I wasn't too far behind myself, just a little "off". Not riding at all, let alone competing would be hard on anyone, so I was so happy with how we were doing. I had been praying--night and day, day and night that I'd be able to sit in the middle of him and ride him as best as I could. I truly believe the good Lord had heard me, and it was apparent to me, at least, when ever I was on Woodrow. We were just in a groove, man! It was great. We placed at the little Warm Up that the round up club had last weekend, and I knew exactly what I needed to do to be able to jockey him to a win...I had to sit up, hustle him and stay IN THE MIDDLE!! I had been on my knees every day, every night, just asking for whatever it was that I needed to be able to stay with my horse. I wanted it desperately, it was so close, I knew it was within reach if I just asked someone who could really help me.
We had someone coming to look at my filly Monday evening, and it was bothering me a little. I was excited that someone was interested in her, but was still a little melancholy at the thought of actually selling her. Jason went out to catch her, with my phone in his pocket. He'd been using my phone to field all of the numerous calls we were getting about Barbie, so he didn't want to miss any of them while he caught her for me, before I gave her a good grooming. It seemed like forever before I heard from him--and when he called the house, I automatically knew something had to have been amiss. He was hesitant to tell me, but did his best to tell me that my horse had hurt himself some how. Immediately tears filled my eyes...I could tell from the tone of his voice that it wasn't the sort of thing that would be fine and wasn't going to bother him at all. As I walked out, I could hear the water running, coursing it's way down Woodrow's left hind leg. A think ribbon of water snaked it's way through the lot, a testament to how long Jason had been hosing him down for me. I raised the chain latch on the gate, watching as Jason moved around from side to side of the horse, trying to soak his foot as best he could. I made my way towards them, all the while chewing my bottom lip to fight back the tears. When I was a teenager I was never very emotional at all, but as I grew older and had our kids something in me changed. My emotions don't obey me now as they used to, it's near to impossible for me to hide how I'm feeling and keep things safely under the surface. The dirt under my feet had lumps, orangish-brown blood clots. As I caught a ragged breath, I realized that he'd been hurt for some time, and I hadn't even known. His left hind foot was sporting a good sized cut just about his right heel bulb, just through the "meat" for lack of a better term. It was tender, he was none too thrilled with Jason's attempts to spray scarlet oil on it, or to wrap it with gauze and vet wrap. As the evening sun bore down on us, it hit me. I had spent weeks trying to get him in shape again, trying to discern whether or not we were fit to compete again, or whether we would just be donating! It was bad enough that my poor guy stood there in obvious pain, shuffling back and forth from foot to foot, but to realize that the entire process was going to have to be repeated again, and at an even slower pace this time was almost too much.
We turned him out with our nurse cow as the prospective buyers pulled in our drive way. To their credit, they're nice people, and I can honestly say I wouldn't mind if they took Miss Barbie home. I'm thankful they showed up when they did. I had to hold what little composure I had left together, rather than be a big blubbering baby as we tried to talk about Barbie. The depression over it all didn't catch up with me till later, but as I fought with it I realized how much worse it truly could have been. I was thankful it hadn't been any worse, and that I had a husband who could take good care of him for me. I know things happen for a reason, so I'm trying not to dwell on it. It seems like I'm doing just the opposite by laying it all out here for the veritable world to see by putting it in a blog, but really it's more like I'm purging it from my mind. It's hard to talk to people and not show how disappointed that I am. It's the time of year that everyone is going somewhere or doing something, and want to know when you're up, what you're headed to next. I just have to hang my head and smile a little, knowing that my horse is right where he needs to be, munching grass and on the road to recovery. This break with him will give me a little time to ride Smoke, who desperately needs it! He has a tendency to be a snot head if given the chance, and here lately he has done his best to act as though he has no manners what so ever. Smoke was loping a pattern last summer before he was put on the back burner, maybe now is the best time to bring him back to the forefront!