Talking about Meg

Meg is a silly horse. I know, I said that about Amigo. But he was funny in a different way. I still miss him, by the way. But I know he's where he belongs right now so I'm trying not to let it get to me. And besides, now there is Meg!

(A note to the reader: I'm still using speech recognition software. Every now and then it puts funny things in place of the words actually said. For example, up above what I said "and besides, now there is Meg!" The speech recognition software first put, "And besides, now there is an egg!" I usually catch all of these, but it bears repeating that if you see something absolutely absurd ("observed") in what I'm saying, think about what it sort of sounds like, and you might be able to figure out what I meant.)

You can see Meg's ("mixed") picture in the post Sad.

As so often, I'm out of time. It happens so often that I began with just one or two paragraphs and run out of time so this time I'm going to leave it rather than deleting it and thinking that I'll start over again tomorrow. I'll just continue tomorrow.

So as my father says, look for
More Later.

Riding

I got this wonderful in e-mail this morning from a friend who is going through something worse than I am. Her e-mail asking for help and support for herself and her children was full of humor. I know she's very upset about what's happening in her life, but she chose to make a joke out of it in this graceful way. You know how you go through life, and you see what other people do, and sometimes you notice something and you think "I could learn from her." I often have this experience with that person. I admire her very much. She's making soup these days and putting it into her freezer. On Monday, her daughter stopped by with some soup for us!

I feel like a small explosion has gone off in my face -- that everything has been rearranged by a startling force. I want to be graceful and admirable like my friend. But one of the hardest things about this new landscape is that I don't it always admire what I do in response. I've been very emotional, for instance. Yesterday was one of those days when I had a conversation with somebody and I wish I could rewind the clock and or wave a magic wand and have it never have happened.

I guess we all have challenges. I know we all have challenges. The developments of the last few years have often left me feeling helpless. When you go through a divorce and the courts become involved, you lose something that is very precious and that most parents take for granted -- the right to make decisions for your children. One of my children is facing a change that I don't think make sense for him. But that decision is out of my hands. Yesterday, when I was speaking to the person who has the right to make this decision, I was not the calm, cool, collected mother that I always wish I was. I was upset, and it showed. This is unwise -- and probably unpleasant for the person I'm speaking to. I didn't attack her personally, because I like her, but I could have made her job easier by accepting what I can't change.

One of the ways that I keep my perspective in the midst of all the chaos of postdivorce court proceedings, and having the financial underpinnings pulled out from under me, and trying to find wise and responsible ways to recover, is to ride.

I'm sure many of you riders feel this way: that when you ride, all the troubles of the world drop away and you are living and breathing moment to moment in partnership with a creature of amazing elegance -- and I mean elegance in both the physical and spiritual realms. Being with the horse is like being enfolded in a greater spirit, one that helps you find your way to peace. The best riders think like their horses.

I have missed riding more than I can say. Going through all of this without recourse to my most important emotional underpinning is like trying to take a written test with a blindfold on.
So yesterday, I finally gave in.

Rachelle helped me saddle Rocket, and bridle him. She tacked up Meg. I stepped onto a tall bucket and Rocket stood stock still as I leaned on one stir up and then slowly brought my other leg over his back and sat down. He never moved a muscle. Then I took the reins in my left hand and sighed. Home.

After Rachelle mounted, we rode up the driveway, turned right, and walked along the dirt roads to the covered bridge. Rocket went right over the covered bridge for me without any fuss. Meg was a bit afraid of it, but Rachelle is a very confident and experienced rider and she helped Meg get through this initial encounter.

It was a short ride. But we did cross Louis Creek. The water was up to the horses' chests.
I wore my sling. It protects my arm from swinging outward -- the only movement that could actually hurt me badly.

I know, I know, I'm pushing it. From a birds eye view the idea of somebody riding a horse two and half weeks after shoulder surgery seems absurd. But from where I'm sitting, it doesn't. I know this horse. He and I understand each other. It may not look safe, but I feel safe on the back of a horse.

Sad

Here is this beautiful new horse and I can't ride her. 

Meg

I learned so much about Meg this morning. I had a short training session with her to see if we could figure out a way that I could lead her around without getting bumped . I led her on my left side and walked very slowly and made it clear that she needed to stay behind my left shoulder. She learned fast, and she was careful. she really likes the attention -- just have something to do, to be told to do this walk this way , stop, start again. She enjoyed herself. Then I took off the lead rope and practiced putting her halter on and off with one arm. She was helpful -- she put her nose right into the halter and waited patiently while I took it off and then put her nose back into it again when I wanted to put it back on again. Then I sat in the ring with her. Van was mending fences when a funny thing happened: Meg developed a crush on Van. He had a drill and a saw and he was working all up and down the side of the ring. She followed him like a little puppy. When he stood still and worked for a while in the same spot she closed her eyes and stood near him with this cute little smirk on her face. When he left the ring she even got a little bit upset. I sat on my beach chair in the middle and watched all of this. When Van came back she started following him around again. Van said that if things go along as they have been, he'll have a girlfriend in every species on the farm.

I free-lunged Meg a little bit. She joins up so well! In about five minutes she was following me around matching me step for step , stopping when I stopped , matching my pace, paying careful attention to where my feet were and where her feet were.

This afternoon, we will saddle and bridle her, Rachelle will ride her, and then I think Van will take a turn in the ring riding her. It is possible that Meg and Van will make a better pair than Rocket and Van. Rocket is afraid of men it seems -- he gets upset and scared when he has a man on his back. I suspect that the spur scars on his sides were not put there by a woman.

No matter how it works out -- which one of us rides which horse, clearly the foursome of me and Van and Rocket and Meg shows a lot of promise. We are absolutely delighted with her. She's funny, curious, and confident. She pays attention. She loves to have people paying attention to her even when what they're asking her to do is work. Van commented that if she was going to follow him around while he worked on fences he should give her her own tool belt.

I miss Amigo. I miss his beautiful face, and his expressive eyes. I miss his funny and complex and silly ways. but I think this arrangement is excellent for the people and for the horses. Amigo has a new friend, Ed, who is an extremely laid-back Belgian. Amigo will learn from Ed's attitude that anxieties are pointless. the people Amigo lives with want to keep Amigo and Ed together, both in the paddock and on rides. I am eager to hear how things go for him.

Shoulder Surgery and Its Aftermath

the shoulder surgery was on Monday. I was home before the children were home from school.  General anesthesia was not as bad this time as it has been in the past.  I had no nausea.  My arm was completely numb, so I had no pain until the next day.

I would like to be able to describe the experience just as it was.  I don't know why it's so hard to do that.  I can talk about the nighttime sounds, and about things like pain medication, but these things seem unreal. But when I start to talk about what my children's smiles have meant to me, what Van's constant care has meant to me, what it has been like to eat food prepared by people who don't even know me, I get all tangled up inside and I simply can't explain.

mom was there when I woke up and I know this was hard for her because she had just had foot surgery couple of days previous to this.  But there she was -- a focus of familiarity in the echoing halls of hospital I had seen only once before.  Coming out of general anesthesia, anything familiar is a life jacket.

Van drove me home, I think perhaps terrified that some car would hit us, just because it was the day of surgery.I carried in my lap an alien thing, my arm.  It had weight and texture like a rubber chicken, but in no sense that it feel like my arm. it had been completely numbed for the surgery.

When the children came home I heard Van intercept them at the door and speak to them seriously before he would let them come and see me.  He was really very afraid that I would break.  I was touched, and touched more by the faces of my children when one by one, and rather shy, they came into the room to see how I was doing.Mikey wanted to curl up next to me, but he was afraid to.  Instead, he went to the other bed.  I asked him if he wanted to come and be on the same bed as I was on.  He replied, "I'm used to snuggling up to you when were both on the bed.  Since I can't snuggle up to you, I don't even want to get on the bed." So I pointed to a place next to my left side, away from my arm, and said here, there's room for you right here.  You should have seen him smile, and you should have seen the alacrity with which he crossed the room and curled up like a little butterfly next to me.Danny had brought a book with him.  He was ready to keep me company.  He asked me if I needed anything.  He seemed pleased that I looked basically the same as I had when he last said goodbye to me.

That first day I spent a lot of time being awake and alert.  I had no pain, and I had already slept for half the day during the surgery.  This surprised me though this wakefulness.  During the night I went out and saw horses.  They snuffled around my arm.  Van ran defense -- and that was necessary, because some of them wanted to nudge me.

Running out of energy.  The week has been a very sleepy, relaxing time.  I have had much good food thanks to my wonderful neighbors and friends.  At this point, I'm optimistic.  I think recovery will go faster and better than I've been told.  It's only been one week, but right now I feel like this is all something that I can handle: I can get better, I can rehabilitate my arm, I can ride horses sooner rather than later.

I have to remind myself not to be upset if, later, I feel more discouraged.  It's only been one week, and I have had so much help, I don't think the worst has happened yet.  The doctor said that maybe about two months later, I mean, two months after the surgery, people often wonder why they ever did it.  But at the end of the year, he said, I may realize why.

Talking about Rocket

I have much to talk about rocket in this blog ever since we got him.  He is an amazing horse.  We got them from a farmer in the southern part of Vermont, who had gotten him in turn from a young woman who rode him a lot and said he only reared once.  And that was when a big truck went by and used its brakes.

From what the farmer has told me, I gather that rocket was a wild stallion.  He was captured, branded, and trained to herd cows.  Then he was sold, apparently to the woman who rode him a lot.

He sounded like the ideal horse for Van.  And unlike so many things that are different from what they sound, rocket has become a farm favorite, and it looks like he will be Van's companion on many trail rides to come.

Rocket is responsive.  He is quick, he loves to run, he tries very hard to do what he's told, he is in good condition, he is sound, and he is very happy to be living with us.  It also seems that he was abused at some point.  I don't like to say this about horses; I think new owners are very much inclined to say that previous owners somehow were not good for their horses.  But I think sometimes the fault lies in the new relationship, not the old one.  I have seen a horse kick at his farrier while the owner stood by and talked about how that horse must have been beaten around the legs; to the farrier and to me,   it looked as if that horse had simply not been told that it was a requirement that you not kick your farrier.

Rocket has a brand on his left hip.  From the look of the brand, he was not sitting still when they did it.  He also has gouges in his sides --both sides -- somewhere behind the girth.  He react violently to any sort of equipment; but the farrier and I both think that the farrier's tools remind him of branding.  He doesn't respond to the tools with irritation or annoyance or even anger.  He responds with pure  terror.

I have ridden Rocket through thick forests, across creeks, over stone walls, through swamps, along dirt roads and paved roads, in darkness and in the daylight, and not once has he ever faltered or failed to do as he was asked.  At times I rely on his judgment.  At times, he relies on mine.  No horse has ever and as much of a partner as Rocket is.  I have used him to herd other horses -- an extremely challenging job for any horse, especially one low down on the totem pole -- and he always gives his best.  The merest hint or change in body language changes Rocket's response.

I do not understand how such a horse could have been abused as it seems he was.  I am happy for him that now he has Van.  Van can teach him how to trust; rocket will teach Van much about riding.  Currently, Rocket runs away when he can.he is terrified when he is caught.  I think this may be a clue.  I get the impression that whoever trained him was angry when he ran away and punished him when he caught him again.  I think he or she may have done something with the left hand.  When Rocket has been running away and I catch him, he shies away from my left hand.  His reaction is so sudden and so violent to even the slightest movement of the fingers on my left hand, that I believe this was a trigger point somehow.

as for the other abuse, I think the brand says a lot. Even that one experience, coming soon after being captured from the wild, would be enough to make an intelligent horse afraid of any similar paraphernalia.  The gouges on his sides appear to be from spurs. rocket is extremely sensitive to any like pressure at all.  I think it's obvious why.

Nonetheless, rocket is now wearing for shoes, which were put on his feet without the aid of tranquilizers.  It took a patient farrier (and I highly recommend mine) space about an hour to put them on.  Did I mention that Rocket is intelligent? 

(By the way, I'm using voice recognition software to type this blog entry.  It has its problems as you may have noticed that it is better than trying to type left-handed only.)

Nighttime

When I woke up a little while ago, I could hear the comforting nighttime noises. Throughout the last week when I've had nothing better to do I've lain in bed listening to the nighttime noises. Crickets, insects, horses snorting, owls hooting.this time I had woken up because I felt appalled by pressure and pain in my shoulder. I had forgotten that this was normal. then I shifted, listened,  and was comforted by the other normal things I could hear.  When I turned on the light, I heard a horse breathe out in a half snort.  Somebody else was awake and had seen the light go on.

Could you please... just... stop TALKING.

That was the thought that went through my head today listening to the physical therapist. After the surgeon. In fact, the anesthesiologist's discussion was the bright moment of the day, despite graphic descriptions of nausea to come.

More later... company has arrived.