Saturday, May 17, 2008

Making the call in the tough situations

I've blogged before about how our society (U.S., anyway) is awfully death-phobic and seems to have a lot of trouble just dealing with this simple fact of life. We've seen horses kept alive who were clearly suffering because an owner could not detach emotionally. We've discussed the problem of rescues pumping ridiculous amounts of money into a single horse who will never be rideable or usable despite the best vet care money can buy. Today I want to talk about a situation I find myself in that I think will be familiar to many of you.

I independently rescue, as you all know, and I do like the old coot horses. Therefore, it's kind of inevitable there will be some attrition. I have actually lost three in the past year - which seems like a huge number, but two were heart attacks (one mare had a grade six murmur, my vet was actually bringing his colleagues out just to listen to it because he'd never seen a six still vertical - the other was 28 years old and just keeled over) and the other had severe melanomas and while she never got thin or lost her appetite, she developed neurological issues and lost control of her hind right leg. She was a hotheaded TB and would still try to run despite having only 3 operational legs, so it became immediately apparent she had to be put to sleep. Again, a pretty easy call - a bit tougher because she was perky and bright, but there is no fixing a gray mare that is all tumors from her head to her tail and is starting to fall down.

Two years ago, when I was still drinking the CBER kool-aid, I adopted a mare described as sound and friendly. She was an 18 year old Appendix QH they had named Sunline. I was in Los Angeles, she was in Yakima, Washington. (Paypal is not such a good thing to have at 3 AM - the "truck was coming" and I took a big gulp of the kool-aid and shot off $525 for a skinny mare I'd never seen in person. Mostly because her conformation was so hideous that I figured no one else would want her!)

Lot picture here. Yeah. Who bred that? Please stop breeding. (She has two APHA foals out there, too. Joyous.)

After six weeks of quarantine (I was boarding so I needed to be super careful), I had her hauled down to L.A. A few hours from arrival, my hauler called to check in.

"How's she doing?" I asked. "Oh, great," Lori told me. "She's a really nice mare and she's eating and drinking ... she's just a little spooky on that blind side."

Blind side? Blind side? WHAT BLIND SIDE???

*sigh* Yup. Mare arrived and it was immediately apparent she didn't see a thing on the left. The right seemed to be operational. I had my vet look at her and he said that was right, she saw on the right only and there was nothing that needed to be done, it looked like a condition of long duration and not something that required treatment. I wasn't thrilled but I'd ridden half-blind horses before, so I went ahead and started doing ground work with her, and eventually started riding her. She was green but quiet and never did anything wrong. Unfortunately she also had a pretty good case of hock arthritis (can't imagine why, with those lovely post legs!) so she would be sound, and we would ride, and the next day she would be sore, so I would just turn her out, and the next day she would look ok, so I would just free longe her in the big arena, and then I would ride the next day (lather, rise, repeat). I'm sure that a pipe corral in L.A. with limited turnout was not ideal for her.

(For those of you who feel the need to comment on these things, the reason I have a halter on under the bridle is that the reins are actually attached to it - the bit was just hanging in her mouth to accustom her to wearing one. She never did get used to it and got light in front whenever I tried, so that was when I purchased the bitless bridle that you've seen on the VLC.)

Well, I moved up here and she came along. Early last year I had my vet in Oregon check her out. He said she only had about 10% vision left on the right side. I hadn't noticed any changes - she needed guidance going through doors and gates, but she had always been like that. I hadn't ridden her since the move since I was busy with other horses. She mostly just hung out with the mare with the melanomas who was also retired.
My Oregon vet made a huge point to me that she was blind enough to be very dangerous and he recommended euthanasia. I knew I wasn't having any trouble handling her, so I ignored him.

Fast forward to now. Things have changed. She has become nervous in general - she wasn't before. I have to put her hay at her feet or she can't find it. Same with the grain pan. She follows the other horses to drink and I have wimpy horses to turn her out with, so she doesn't have a mark on her, but she still seems unsure especially in shady areas. She does better in the sunlight, but even with sun, ran into the fence this morning. (Thank god, coated wire, she bounced right off it like a rubber band. Great stuff.) If she is separated from her buddy, she panics. She is on the hot side, a racebred mare with a track tattoo, and she is just not the type to accept her disability and plod along carefully through life.

She is only twenty, and she looks good. Her coat is shiny. She is a hard keeper but I've been mostly successful at keeping her the weight she should be. With no riding, she stays completely sound. And yet - I think it is time. She used to listen to me about how to go through gates - today she bolted through and did run into me. No casualties except my ball cap that got knocked off and stomped in the mud, but it could have been an accident for one of us.

Still, it is a hard call. Part of me says I should get some panels and make her a turnout that she can't possibly get hurt in, where she can sit with her buddy mare and eat. But most of me says this is a mare who loves to run and that this is no life for her - and it doesn't matter if she looks good and isn't "old enough to die" in my estimation. So I think I am going to call and make the appointment to let her go this week.

Who else is in one of these situations where it's not an easy call? No cancer, no lameness or at least not crippling lameness, no acute colic - the horse isn't suffering in any acute, horrible way - and yet you are starting to think it is time? Or have you just recently gone through this? What about the chronically lame young horse? Have you had to euth a foal that was born with conditions too severe to reasonably treat? I've said before, I'll NEVER bash on someone for euthing a young horse who will never be usable. I totally get it. I am ok with it. Better that than an uncertain future - it is hard enough finding a companion spot for the oldies who will only need care for a few years.

Anyway, kind of a depressing subject for a beautiful weekend - but like everybody else, I write about what's in the front of my mind, and this is what's occupying my thoughts at the moment. I don't have issues with death - in fact I've often been the one to handle it with the vet for an owner who couldn't - it's just that question of whether or not it's the right time and questioning myself because part of me really wants the space "opened up" for another rescue that has more quality of life - but is that a convenient justification because I am frustrated with this mare that can't be helped and I want a new rescue that I can help? Is this about the horse, or me?

(Yeah, I know. Running into the fence. It's time. I need to stop analyzing and just make the appointment, right?)