As 2023 came galloping to a close, I realized I hadn’t written a blog post since January when I wrote about Nevada’s hoof abscess. What?! How the time does fly by when you’re having fun … and other stuff. I didn’t even tell you about Rosa leaving, or my big clinic experience, or update you on Nevada’s health. So, this post is a recap of the year that was. I resolve to do better in 2024.
I don’t recall much about February other than snow, cold, and more snow, so I’ll start with March, which is also when the photos begin again with T being home. She’s our official blog photographer. Winter was far from over, as you can see in the photo below, but T and N came home on March 31, as scheduled, and it’s always a joyous occasion for me. The horse sitters are good, but they just don’t dole out the time and attention on me that T does.
In April, the snow started to melt, my coat began to shed out in piles, and I had my person back. Life was good…for me. But poor Nevada was looking sore again, T thought maybe another abscess like back in December so the vet was called out. An abscess would have been better news. Turns out he’d developed a condition called ringbone, an arthritis of the joints just above the hoof. He was put on an anti-inflammatory medication that helped some, but had to be increased to what the vet considered a “palliative dose” before we saw summer. For a 32-year-old horse, comfort is more important than longevity.
In May, T and N left us—again—to go sailing on the west coast. Why not a riding trip instead of sailing was my question. May was also when the smoke rolled in, earlier than usual this year, from wildfires in northern Alberta and BC. We were lucky to not have any close to home because it was a windy spring. And the really big event in May at the farm—Rosa left for a new home.
It’s been coming for a while. If you’ve been reading the blog for a time, you’ll know that Rosa regularly suffered from a condition called laminitis, brought on by green grass. T managed it for many years, but as Rosa got older she became more and more sensitive. So T found her a home with someone who has another horse with the same condition and the two of them are ideal companions. And the new home also has a mom and daughter who both love to trail ride, something Rosa excels at, so she gets a lot more exercise, which is also important in managing her condition.
For me, it meant living alone for a bit, but right beside Nevada and Gidget. Nevada has had his issues with me and other geldings—he gets a little protective of his mare(s) at times—and T wanted to make sure all was peaceful. It worked great except during some early season thunderstorms when I wanted to be with the others and they were out of reach in their shelter. Rather than watch me pace the fence line in the pouring rain, T took pity on me and we hung out in the barn together until the storms passed.
June was our big clinic experience, four days of obstacles and trails at a ranch near Rocky Mountain House. T and I have never been anywhere on our own, so that was the first obstacle. I don’t like to ride alone in a trailer and T prefers not to haul alone. But there we were, on the road, facing our fears. I don’t think it was all that T hoped for in terms of learning, but camping together was fun and we both made some new friends. I ended up a bit lame, I think from one of the obstacles I stumbled over, so our riding time was seriously impacted for the rest of the summer.
When we got back from the clinic, I was turned out with Nevada and Gidget. Nevada was gracious about sharing his space and I had access to more grass than I’d seen in years, ever since I became Rosa’s diet-pen companion. Now that was a job I needed but didn’t want! So with the combination of less exercise, due to a sore leg, and more food, due to my new accommodations, I might have put on a pound or two in July.
When Nevada was put on that palliative dose of medication back in the spring, T was resigned to saying goodbye sometime before winter, in August or September before the grass was gone and the nights started to get cold. With his lack of teeth and growing lameness, winter was going to be too hard. But then we had our August miracle. Nevada went from being lame on a double dose of medication, to trotting around the fields on just a regular, single dose. He’d done it before, come back from what seemed like the brink, and he did it again! Best guess is that his arthritic pastern joint fused, which made it more stiff, but no longer painful.
Nevada trotted right through September, still looking sound and happy, and enjoying some fall pasture brought on by late summer rains. His medication was still at the safe, standard dose, and he was joining me in the hay field which is almost half a mile from the barnyard.
If Nevada was going to be around for the winter, he was going to need something he could eat. His teeth stopped erupting years ago and have been wearing down to nubs ever since, which means he can no longer use them for grinding up long-stem forage like hay. Last winter, he could still eat some hay, but was supplemented with hay cubes, which meant managing soaked feed in below freezing temperatures. This year, he was going to need more access to more feed. T found a chopped hay product he can eat that doesn’t need soaking, and in October, N came up with this ingenious free-feeding system for him. The idea was that he could reach it, but Gidget and I couldn’t. Ha! They underestimated us. What I don’t have in height and neck length I make up for in sheer determination. Have to give them credit for trying though…it’s a great idea in theory. So T has gone back to separating Nevada for his feedings, and he chews on a bit of hay between meals.
In November, we were blessed with fall-like weather for pretty much the whole month. The photo below was taken in late November in the hay field where I was still out grazing. And also in November, this guy showed up. Ricki. You might have read one of his recent blog posts. He seems like an okay dude, much less lungey and barky than the last foster dog. T never let that one get close enough for any photos. If she turns this one in with me, I’ll teach him all about horses. That’s one of my many jobs on the farm—dog training.
And we come to the end of the year, December. The best thing about this year was getting to hang with my buddy Nevada since June. We were herd-mates from the time I was two until I was nineteen, so even though it means I’m second-in-command rather than herd boss, I’m a happy horse. And that he’s still here to boss me around at the age of 33 as we head into this new year, well, that’s the greatest gift of all.
the Fur-iday Files 