For those of you who've been reading this blog from the beginning, you'll recognize the names of the animals here: Buddy the blind horse; Abby, who arrived from a Saratoga starvation case unable to walk; Andy, the nearly-dead young Appaloosa; and our newest equines, Cas and Noah, removed from filthy, tiny stalls in a dark barn on a derelict property.
For those of you new to our blog, it's worth tracking the history of these five animals in order to fully appreciate the good news--the gloriously good news--that I'm about to share.
The Wild Ones
No more panic attacks for our blind boy. That would be victory enough. But Buddy's healing has gone way beyond the self-assurance and calm that were eight months in the making. As for Abby, we'd have been happy if she could manage to walk. I certainly never thought I'd witness what I did today.
Buddy is the lone gelding turned out in a field with the mares Abby, Henny, and Lex. The girls stay out with access to a spacious new run-in (Abby having long gained both weight and soundness); Buddy is turned out each morning and brought into the main barn just before his 3 pm dinner.
The snowfall was gorgeous this morning as I strolled the farm to check the animals. As Murphy and I began down the lane to Buddy's pasture, Buddy suddenly reared in the air, whirled around and took off in Abby's direction, bumped into her, nipped her fanny and then whipped around again in a playful kick before taking off in the opposite direction. Abby kicked back but gently chased him--seeming to fully understand that her pal is blind--and then the jostling and shoving, the nicking and squealing, the tail flicking and head tossing that FOALS love continued for a couple minutes. The old mare who could not walk when she arrived and the blind horse too frightened to be left in a field were sound enough and confident enough and energetic enough to act like a couple of kids.
The Spotted One
Little Andy is gaining weight and strength. Floating his teeth has improved his appetite, and as his health has been consistently good, he is finally--FINALLY--putting on significant weight. We knew the healing process would be long and complicated with our "gazelle." While we still wonder what his quality of life will ultimately be, for now he's happy and strong, and as full of piss and vinegar as he was WITH his testicles.
The Lame Ones
Cas and Noah, meanwhile, are recovering in ways that seem nothing short of miraculous. Farrier Korey Hedderman has seen each of them twice since they arrived four weeks ago, working wonders on their tangled, knotted hooves. The boys have gained nearly 100 pounds each, their coats are beginning to shine, and despite weak and unsteady limbs resulting from years of confinement without any farrier care, they're standing soundly. Their eyes alert and trusting. Cas has the temperament one might expect of a thoroughbred stallion--flighty and high strung. Noah, with his kind, liquidy eyes, seems an old soul to me. He's going to win a lot of hearts.
Their big news? Their quarantine ends tomorrow, and I can't wait to try a simple stroll down the long barn aisle with each of them (more would be way too much for them), -- to see how -- to see if -- they can walk.