I have always been clumsy. But 2 days ago I whacked my self in the head with my car door. I later figured that I should NOT have been leaning forward to see out of the opening garage door while simultaneously opening my car door. I whacked myself so hard that I stumbled 6 feet back to the wall in the garage and was stunned for a few seconds. It is like when Boots (quarterhorse) reared up and kicked me in the head at the farm. I whipped him around and pushed him backwards into his paddock, let him go, shut the gate, then collapsed. Saw stars for about a minute then went inside. He probably gave me a mild concussion but I did not go to a doctor and if Sarah reads this, this is the first she is finding out about the accident. It could have been so much worse, Boots shied at a loud noise coming from the truck painting the fence. I felt him rearing and turned so he did not get me with his entire hoof in the back of the head but instead got me on the right side of my head with the front of his hoof. That was the HARDEST hit I have EVER taken. It hurt so badly, but I muscled through the pain.
When I worked on the farm I took some hard hits from horses, and got tossed into a wall in the barn the equine therapist told me don't move because she though I broke my hip. But, being stubborn I told don't call an ambulance I am fine and my hip is not broken. The bruise was hoof shaped and sized and turned all colors of the rainbow. Sarah sent me for a massage, it was the first massage I had ever had and it was AWESOME.
On the farm I was on foal watch and was present for all but 2 births. One of those was Rab and he was breach, it was an extremely difficult delivery Sarah had to reach into Czaria and position the foal to come out. When he was safely out I was COVERED in placenta juice and birthing fluid, needless to say my clothes were toast. She told me to go smoke a cigarette. I cannot imagine what I must have looked like. But the foal I most admired was named Lana and she was red bag which means "water" had not broken and she was born in what looked like a red sack. She was septic and had all sorts of other problems she should have been stillborn but was such a fighter that she went to the hospital and they sent her home. Sarah and I were in the stall when she seized and died in my arms. Sarah was running to get some sort of life saving kit and I was giveing mouth to nose CPR. But Lana had had enough. She was such a fighter.
Just like the racehorse Smooth as Silver the horse was lame and Roland told Steve has shouldn't race him. But Steve being bull headed butcher did not care. He demanded that Smooth be raced. Smooth broke out of the gate and had a lead and he would've lead wire to wire if not for the fact that in the home stretch his front left leg snapped but he ran on to get 4th. When he was vanned off the track it was discover that his leg was broken in 3 places and he was put down the next day. Think about what a waste that was. Smooth was a champion and his career was ruined by a man who just did not care.
During my time on the track and farm I had many experiences that other people never get to have. I was present for a castration (Gelding of a stallion) I palpated a mare. Which is where you put on a glove that goes up to your armpit and stick your hand into a mare and feel the opening of her reproductive organs. That was the coolest experience ever. Though the majority of people would think it is disgusting as hell.
That is why I work with boarded horse now and not racehorse or breeding horses or show horses. The horses I work with now are perfectly calm and old and they know better. There is not foaling at 2 am and waiting to see if the placenta has 2 horns then waiting to make sure that nothing goes wrong. A foal can be born perfectly healthy at 2 am and then be dead at 6 am. If no one is there watching then nobody is there to call the vet. Then you have lost a perfectly good foal and foals are $$. $$makes the world go round and it is expensive to take care of horses. I remember Visiting Bea a 19 yr old horse that was pregnant had a hemmorage and died in the field. I was out and felt so guilty the guilt ate at me when I went out to the field and sat with her body. She was a beautiful thoroughbred mare and had I been more vigilant I may have been able to prevent her death. That has plagued me ever since. That and when the dalmatian pack broke into the field and ate Irma alive. I was alone on the farm and the neighbors heard my frantic screams for help and came over. I called Sarah and she rushed home. Irma was a goat and therefore heavier than I could lift so the only thing I could do was make calls and make sure that vet was ready for us. I don't remember how we got her into the truck but I do remember that she passed out and I did something that I will forever regret because thinking of it now it seems cruel. I rubbed her all over to get her circulation going again and gave her mouth to nose resucitation and brought her back to consciousness only to have the vet put her down. If you think animals don't feel then you have obviously never heard a goat scream in pain. I wished I had just let her die in the back of the truck because she was in excruciating pain. I heard her screams in my nightmares for weeks after. That day on the way back Sarah and I made a mutual decision that I should move on from the farm. I was emotionally immature to handle all that. I was mad at first, but the anger melted into overwhelming guilt over the fact that I had not been there to prevent the attack. In my defense I never thought that the dogs would break into the field much less attack and eat a goat. I remember that day and it will be with me until I die. I am glad that I did not jump into the pasture and try to beat them off because they would have most definately turned on me and with the pack mentality they had they would have most likely killed me. Then Sarah would have come home to an extremely shocking and heartbreaking scene. But I try not to think about that because Sarahs mother went over to the neighbor that owned the dogs and told him what they did. In response he pulled out a shotgun and blew all the dogs away right in front of her. She was understandably terrified because he could have shot her. Needless to say that was a very bad day. When I am having a bad day I think about that day and my life and day doesn't seem so bad.
The day of the dogs was the worst day of my life and that is why I am terrified of dalmatians.
Well I have rambled enough and will probably get flack from Sarah for this blog, but it was in 03 and now it is 11. I have never admitted it to myself that all of that could have been prevented had I just been more vigilant. I am so sorry Sarah.
