Slowly. But Surely

When I wrote this installment, it had been 14 days since we started treating Stella for ulcers. 

If you remember from my last post, we were hoping to see a little improvement by day three, and real improvement by day five.

You can imagine my disappointment when, on day three, there was no improvement whatsoever.

Day four? About the same. 

Day five brought a pony who was still too sensitive to be groomed, and couldn't even tolerate being in the indoor arena, let alone doing any work (her first trip back into the arena began with a series of rears, and when I let her off the leadline to see if she would play a little bit, she stood dejectedly by the door with her head down).

I was just about to give up hope.

Then, on day six, something changed.

Nothing big.

Nothing that anyone else would even really notice.

On day six, when I went out to her paddock to bring her in, she came over to the gate to greet me.

Which she hadn't done in... well... ever.

After that, there were some signals (obvious and not-so-obvious) that she was on the mend. She was a little bit of a happier pony. She was a little less reactive to every. single. thing. (although she still had moments where she seems very nervous in her stall, or coming in from the paddock).

In the arena, she was coming along. We "worked" her about every second day (and by "work" I mean a combination of free lungeing, lungeing and ground work, in a halter or her bridle, without a saddle). She was pretty tricky to bring along in those early days. Her first instinct was still to go up on her hind legs, although that seemed to now only happen right at the beginning of a lungeing session, and I don't think it was necessarily pain related, because once she got going, she seemed pretty happy to keep going.

Her stride had improved, and was almost back to where it was when I first got her. She stretched her head and neck down a lot, and really started to relax after she'd been working for a few minutes.

If you didn't know something was wrong, well, you'd never have known something was wrong.

The only real left-over from the stilted, painful 'ulcer-trot' was that she never really relaxed her tail. During the worst of the ulcer pain, she held her tail out stiffly and cocked off to the right. Now it was straighter, but it took a while for her to relax it, and it didn’t really "swing" the way it used to.

Of course at this point it was still very early days. We were only at day fourteen of treatment, and it actually ended up taking over fifty days of Gastrogard to get this ulcer gone. Which makes me think it was a bad one, and that it had been there for awhile.

I wasn’t even thinking about riding her at this point. Heck, I wasn’t even thinking about putting a saddle on her. I refused to do that until I was relatively certain that the pain was gone.

The thing that mattered most (scratch that. The only thing that mattered) was getting this pony pain-free.

The difference in demeanour between ulcer-pony and non-ulcer-pony would break your heart. For her to go from a pony who was standing at the back of her stall shaking with nervousness, to the sweet, loving pony that she is now... well, like I said, the only thing that mattered was getting pain-free.

I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet with Stella. And even once the physical pain was gone, a whole lot of re-training had to happen to get her back on the right track. Once she was pain free, we went right back to the basics to begin the long, slow process of starting over. 

But I knew that we would get there. And this pony would lead a calm, happy life. That was my promise to her.

A couple of things I learned from this whole blasted experience:

1. You can have all the big plans you want, but in the end, you need to do what's best for the horse. Period. I will never allow this pony to be in a position ever again where she is stressed to the point that it threatens her well-being. Her entire life, and all of my plans for her will now revolve around her being happy and healthy. She is too important to me to have it any other way.

2. Always look for a physical problem before you assume something is behavioural. It really worries me to think of all the horses out there who have been labelled "bad", but are probably just in pain. Horses are very good at telling us that something is wrong. We just really need to learn how to listen.

3. Young horses need exposure. Babies need to be allowed (or sometimes taught) to be curious by being quietly introduced to everything under the sun, right from the start of their lives. They need to learn to go on trailers and walk over tarps and play games. They need to learn that going somewhere new is a normal part of life. That there's a nice, big, fun, beautiful world outside the pasture fence, and that it's really nothing to worry about.

Loved hearing Stella’s story?

Head over to the Horse & Human Wellness Project to keep up to date with her progress.

This was written by Pam Levy, who is an equestrian blogger and the creator of The Horse and Human Wellness Project, a blog that chronicles her quest to create a stronger connection with her horses. She is currently living her dream on the small farm she owns with her husband in rural Nova Scotia, on Canada’s east coast. Their herd includes three horses (Sunny, Stella and Q) and two cats (Jack and Arthur). Visit The Horse and Human Wellness Project blog or Facebook page.