Monday morning and I asked Essy to walk up the ramp of a horsebox. A task Ive not asked him to do in 3. 5 years. The horsebox wasn't ours. He walked straight up, first time.
Having been retired for over a year now, out of work, his decline in muscle tone meant his one hour journey in 30 degrees morning heat, was tough. His chest, abdominal and back muscles clinched, stretched and strained.
At noon, with the sun high in the sky we arrived and unloaded at an Equine Hospital.
Long story short, 4.5 hours later he was awake enough from his operation to travel home. Bandaged up like a little soldier. He might of been ready but the duty of care and responsibility I felt was so huge I wasn't sure I was!
He'd just had a hole drilled into his head, above his left eye. He'd been heavily sedated. It was hot and we had the same journey home ahead of us, only now in commuter traffic. My main concern was firstly would he re-load and secondly would he have the strength (after sedation) to hold himself up to do the journey, for a second time? Compound this with what I could only imagine was the headache of all headaches.
Just after 5pm we made it! Home! Having ridden in the back with him, Ive never been more grateful to get somewhere all in one piece, without incident.
Now the wait begins for the results of the biopsy. Now the care begins to ensure bandages stay in place and the wound kept clean.
At home he had an hour to chill in his stable. We then had a bath, I massaged his tired hamstrings, did some tail releases (very tense) and finished the day with some essential oils for emotional re-balancing.
Only job remaining was to 'pad' his stable as his new past time seemed to be trying to remove the bandage and scratch the front of his head! Many thanks to a fellow livery for suggesting rolled up towels. It's worked like a treat.
Horses never cease to amaze me.
The trust Essy put in himself, and in me, both in the journey to hospital, and back again, can not be measured. It's immense. I think often we ignore these moments, just taking it for granted that most horses load and travel. When you know your horse is not 'travel fit' and yet still he follows you up and down the ramp - after having a hole drilled into his head, on the hottest day of the year, surely that must be savored and not ignored. Surely that is one way of measuring trust?
I for one, am very thankful.
Having been retired for over a year now, out of work, his decline in muscle tone meant his one hour journey in 30 degrees morning heat, was tough. His chest, abdominal and back muscles clinched, stretched and strained.
At noon, with the sun high in the sky we arrived and unloaded at an Equine Hospital.
Long story short, 4.5 hours later he was awake enough from his operation to travel home. Bandaged up like a little soldier. He might of been ready but the duty of care and responsibility I felt was so huge I wasn't sure I was!
He'd just had a hole drilled into his head, above his left eye. He'd been heavily sedated. It was hot and we had the same journey home ahead of us, only now in commuter traffic. My main concern was firstly would he re-load and secondly would he have the strength (after sedation) to hold himself up to do the journey, for a second time? Compound this with what I could only imagine was the headache of all headaches.
Just after 5pm we made it! Home! Having ridden in the back with him, Ive never been more grateful to get somewhere all in one piece, without incident.
Now the wait begins for the results of the biopsy. Now the care begins to ensure bandages stay in place and the wound kept clean.
At home he had an hour to chill in his stable. We then had a bath, I massaged his tired hamstrings, did some tail releases (very tense) and finished the day with some essential oils for emotional re-balancing.
Only job remaining was to 'pad' his stable as his new past time seemed to be trying to remove the bandage and scratch the front of his head! Many thanks to a fellow livery for suggesting rolled up towels. It's worked like a treat.
Horses never cease to amaze me.
The trust Essy put in himself, and in me, both in the journey to hospital, and back again, can not be measured. It's immense. I think often we ignore these moments, just taking it for granted that most horses load and travel. When you know your horse is not 'travel fit' and yet still he follows you up and down the ramp - after having a hole drilled into his head, on the hottest day of the year, surely that must be savored and not ignored. Surely that is one way of measuring trust?
I for one, am very thankful.
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