My Horse Survived a Severe Injury

Looking back

Old memories are coming back since I've started writing again. Mulling around in my head are many high and low points - and there are those that I thought I would never live through. I did - and it all turned out OK.

I remember my beautiful Saddlebred gelding, his flawless body and his high moving ways. Then it all came crashing down one day . . .

A Bit of Nastalgia

Back then, we had an old trailer. It had served us well over several years of hauling our show stallion, a section A Welsh, back and forth to the shows. We used to joke that "here comes the ratty trailer with that drop-dead gorgeous stud pony." Well, Windsor Chief did win everything around the Connecticut Open Horse Shows Circuit. It was generally known that when he stepped off the tailgate and went into the showring, it was all over for the competition. Soon another horse joined our show string.

We bought a firecracker - a handsome Saddlebred gelding, aged 12. Right from the start, Be Calm was a handful. It took a lot of time and patience and training to get him into the show ring again. But when he hit the ring, he hit it big! He was feisty, bold and hot. He won every Model Class he went into and any Open Three Gaited Class he entered. Getting anything less than a blue ribbon was not even a consideration.

The Injury

He also rode in that trailer - the ratty one. Thinking back today, it's easy to remember that he was never overly fond of getting into it or even going up the ramp. It's hindsight now, but had we paid more attention to the horse, he might never have been hurt. In fact, we would have junked that beastly trailer at his first reluctance.

One day, trucking to the blacksmith to set his shoes, something made him lurch in the trailer. Could be he saw something that spooked him since there was no swerve or other reason for his jumping around. I was behind the wheel and glanced in the side mirror. Horror! Absolute horror grabbed me. I saw his leg protruding out of the side of the trailer and he was obviously struggling. I'll never forget where we were at that precise moment. We were driving past the Mansfield Drive-In Theater in Willimantic, CT.

Seconds seemed like an eternity but I managed to stop the car and trailer, pull off the road and get to my horse. We got to him quickly. As I was trying to calm him, my husband was lowering the tailgate. Thank heavens the horse remained calm as we pulled his left hind leg back into the trailer. The leg bone, a good 3 inches of it, showed bright white but, strangely enough, there was not much blood.

It Was Rough

There were no cell phones back then and no horse ambulances. You were pretty well on your own - did you call police and delay getting him help, or did you drive to the nearest vet as quickly as possible? We opted to drive to the vet.

I drove and my husband stayed with the horse. To this day I cannot remember much of that drive except that I fought hysteria but somehow, miraculously, remained sane and calm. We drove to Bolton Vets (then it was Dr. Leventhal's practice). Dr. Pomper was on site that day - thank goodness!

Everything happened so fast. We got the horse off the trailer and into the yard. There was no stable or barn so the horse was tended to right there on the pavement. Dr. Pomper anesthetized the horse's leg and began pulling bits and pieces of plywood out of the wound. Again horror!

My poor horse. He was laboring through all this and yet, for once, lived up to his name - Be Calm. After two hours of labor intensive work, Dr. Pomper stitched and bandaged the horse up and sent us on our way. It was highly probable that this wound was going to cause problems and it did. Horrors!

We dressed and washed and medicated our horse around the clock. Still, we didn't avoid the infection. Dr. Pomper decided to operate to clear the wound of all residual foreign matter.

The operation took place in our backyard. (No, I'm not ancient but things were just not like today - vets and great hospitals and cell phones everywhere.) We found a grassy level spot and put the horse under anesthetic. As he lay there, we thought we would lose him for sure. Another two hours later and Be Calm was again stitched up and bandaged.

I had never seen a horse come out of anesthetic. He struggled up and buckled and fell and struggled and flopped around. It was hard to keep him down but we had to sit on his head. Finally, it seemed forever, he was able to stand - wobbly but upright.

Through all of this, Be Calm was stoic and resilient. He was agreeable when he received his daily soaks and cleaning. We fussed and fretted over him. We dealt with the proud flesh and the hand walking. Over and over again we told ourselves that we were lucky he did not pull a tendon, ligament or sustain even more serious injuries.

It Ended Well

It was this injury and Be Calm's quiet acceptance of it that left an indelible mark on my mind. His trust and bond with us had become remarkable. And, I honestly believe he never blamed us for his pain and injury. Instead he grew closer to us. It's hard to explain, and you have to know horses to understand, but he began to love us.

This nonfiction story was written by The Old Gray Mare. Other articles by the old nag can be found on the website DressYourHorse.com.