Someday we'll live like horses, free rein from your old iron fences

So, as promised (many moons ago), here's the blog about how my 28 year old horse lost her eye.

I've owned Hallie since she was 19, but I've been riding her since she was about 14 or 15.  I used to show Hallie, she was always my absolute first choice for horses to show.  Hallie made sure we won.  She's a tiny little horse (14.2 hands, just on the border of pony/horse), she has short little legs, a long neck, a long back.  In the show world, she is not a horse that would be described as "a pretty mover".  But she has heart.  TONS of heart.  She always seemed to know when she was in a show, and she would turn it on in a big way.  She never ever came home without a ribbon.  Ever.

When I decided I was ready to buy my own horse, I looked and looked but none compared to Hallie.  Other horses may have been taller, or "prettier", but none had her joie de vivre.  Her owner heard that I was looking and she reluctantly offered to sell me Hallie.  I had asked over the years, I guess it was finally in the cards.  There were so many reasons why I shouldn't have bought her, she was older, getting arthritic, but I couldn't not buy her.  Hallie had done right by me for so many years, it was my turn to do right by her.  Not that her previous owners were bad to her, they were fantastic, but this was the only way I could make sure Hallie would have the golden years she deserved.  Older horses end up in bad places.  I didn't want that to happen to her.  So... I bought my first horse.

Long story short, about three and a half years ago Hallie's left eye started to tear.  Then it started to tear a lot.  I didn't think much of it, everything looked fine.  After a few months her eye became a little bulbous, then it became very distended.  Her behavior had also changed, she was spooky and she didn't want to be handled.  She would run away from people, or sometimes she'd kick out or try to bite.  The vet came out and did a sonogram, which revealed that she had a tumor behind here eye.  It was fairly large and it was pushing on her eye.  My poor wonderful girl was in pain.  I was going to have to make a decision, soon.

The obvious option was to put her down.  Hallie was an otherwise healthy horse, she was otherwise happy, so I had a really hard time accepting that as an option.  She just didn't seem ready to go.  The second option the vet gave me was to trailer her to the New Bolton Center, which is part of the University of Pennsylvania.  There was an equine ophthalmologist  there who could help my old girl.  I really didn't know what to do, it was agonizing.

I talked to several of my well meaning horse friends, who told me that the surgery would be incredibly expensive, and that Hallie may not even survive the trip.  There was also some concern that she would spook and hurt herself, or hurt a person.  At that point I had pretty much made the decision that I would have to put her down, but I would wait for her to tell me when she was ready to go.  She always greeted me with a happy whinny, she would trot over and nudge me for treats.  I spent hours talking to her, telling her what was going on, I begged her to tell me when it was time.  She never did.  I was very conflicted.

A few months went by and it came time for Hallie's annual vaccines, so made an appointment with her vet.  He had an emergency that day so he sent out his new associate, someone who had never met Hallie before.  I was worried, Hallie had become shy of strangers so I didn't know how she would deal with this new vet, Liz.  I told Liz about Hallie's nervousness, and Liz laughed.  She said to me, "Cindy, this is not a nervous horse!"  To my amazement, she walked into Hallie's stall and Hallie was perfect.  PERFECT!  She didn't spin or try to kick, she stood perfectly still while Liz gave her the vaccines.  Hallie liked Liz, she even nudged her for candy!

Liz was kind, and gentle, and she showed me that Hallie was not this hot, out of control horse I thought she had become.  We talked for a long time about Hallie.  Liz asked me why I had decided against the surgery and I told her my concerns.  Well, thank God for sending Liz that day.  She had done her residency at New Bolton.  She knew the vets, she knew a professional horse transporter, she knew someone who could do the after surgery care, she even knew how much it would cost.  Liz completely put my mind at ease, and I had all the information I needed.  I decided then and there to let Hallie have the surgery.  Liz saved Hallie's life.

So the rest of the story is blissfully uneventful.  Hallie's regular vet called and scheduled the surgery at New Bolton.  Hallie was trailered, uneventfully, had her surgery, uneventfully, and came home without the tumor and without her left eye.  They could have saved her eye but it would have been a more involved, and more painful surgery.  I opted for the easier, less painful surgery, remove her eye and pop out the tumor.  Done and done.  When the surgery was over and I went to New Bolton to bring my old girl home, I was told that she was the best patient they had ever had.   I was not at all surprised.

Hallie had her surgery three years ago this month.  She is now living on a retirement farm that is managed by the wonderful woman who did Hallie's after surgery care.  She loves Hallie and Hallie loves her.  My old girl is happy and healthy, despite missing her left eye.  Three years ago Hallie told me she wanted to live, and I'm so glad I listened.

Hallie may live many years longer, she may not.  One thing I have no doubt about, though, is that it will be on Hallie's terms. 

Every day is a winding road

This past weekend was Beltane.  We had a friend over, they had hamburgers, I had a veggie burger, we hung out, talked, had a fire in the pit, and enjoyed the company until well into the early morning.  It could not have been a nicer evening.

We had the iPod going, set to shuffle, and Sheryl Crow's "Every day is a winding road" came on.  There was a roaring fire going, we were tossing into the fire wheat shafts from yardwork done earlier in the day, so the flames were large.   Embers were floating maybe 10 feet into the air, they danced as they traveled upwards.  I was sitting in a chair, my head was tilted back, and I sat quietly listening to the music while watching these embers dance.  The sky was perfectly clear, I could see every star.  As the embers traveled upward, they faded, then disappeared, and it became difficult for me to tell which were dying embers and which were stars.  They all blended together.  Stars became embers, embers stars, the unity of it all was astounding.

Sometimes it amazes me how connected I can feel with the Universe.  Everything clicks, and I become one with the world.  Yea, ok, totally makes me sound like a nature loving hippie freak.  Hey, this is my freak flag and I'm flying it!


Seriously, it's nights like those that reaffirm my beliefs, my faith.  They strengthen my spirituality and validate that little burning ember I carry within me that tells me that this is real.  What I feel is real.  Others don't "get" it not because they can't, but because they won't.  I get it.  And a big shout out to those who know what I'm talking about.  You get it too.  Yay for us! 

So today is national coming out day.  That's national Pagan coming out day.  I may come out.  I may not.  I may post this secretly, hoping that only some see it.  Again, I may not.  I now know what my best childhood friend went through when she came out to me that she is a lesbian.  It sucks to be judged.  A lot. 

OK, so here goes...  my blog for today....  Every day is a winding road, and I get a little big closer to feeling fine.  Blessed be!