September 2009
Flip Flop's Highland Cow Look
This is when the 'I told you so' season started. Sorry, its a long one.
I come from a family that lives the mantra 'if in doubt, don't'. After graduating I have spent my 20's being incredibly careful. So careful that nothing has happened. I've had the same horrible job, same life, day after day and I've just waited and saved for the economy to improve so I could buy a house, find the perfect job, etc. Don't get me wrong, I've not sat on my ass. I went back to do my masters while working full time. I worked three jobs and did voluntary work to try to get some experience in my chosen field before pursuing another postgrad (which I haven't yet been able to do). I've kept busy but all of this has contributed to me feeling pretty fed up with myself. I've lost my confidence, self esteem and ability to make any decisions on my own and buying Flipo was probably a lot about trying to do something for me that wasn't about my career. Nothing particularly bad has happened so I'm not looking for sympathy, but then nothing particularly good has happened either. You can't spend your life waiting for your life to get started.
(Sorry about the philosophy.)
Buying Flipo was a decision I made entirely on my own. I was warned about all the things that could go wrong. Illness, losing the field, career progression, weight of commitment, moving and the rest. It was a rather poignant discussion some colleagues were having about a paraplegic lady who had resolved to row round the coast of the UK that got me thinking. I distinctly remember my boss saying 'well it just shows you that if you're determined enough, you can do what you want.' That made me sit up and think, f***sake, I can do this, and if something goes wrong I will deal with it. Anyway, having had ponies before, I already knew the level of commitment I was expected to have (and I pride myself on being pretty damn reliable)..... What I had totally forgotten was that the first year of horse ownership is especially tough. I don't think I could be someone who buys a new horse every other year. I'm looking to build a long term relationship where I understand my horse's every thought and move. Clearly Flipo and I are a long way from achieving this. My mum reminded me that we didn't leave the field for the first six months of owning my old ponies, and although a lot of that was probably down to age, I decided it wouldn't hurt to keep to the safety of his field for a little while longer.
An experienced friend came and rode him out and Flipo was ok, but she did have to use a lot of leg to give him confidence. We now think he may not have been hacked out alone very often (contrary to what I naively believed when I bought him). Well prepared that I had some trust building to do, I persevered in the field. Unfortunately Flipo performed the well known spin and run trick in response to a noisy trailer during our next schooling session. Cue head dive from me. I've got a high pain threshold but Superman's accident makes me worry more than when I was younger and at that moment I really started to question how bombproof my new horse is. I got back on and to keep me calm, my friend had me recite the whole Norwich Union Home Insurance Policy Booklet (how sad is that).
So I ended up in a situation where I couldn't ride my horse alone, and the fact that I'd fallen off in the field meant I was practically hyperventilating at the thought of getting on him again. Why put yourself through it all? Flipo now didn't seem quite as cute as I'd previously thought.
Around this time I posted on NR for the first time - rather emotionally - and received some lovely advice and support. Whilst my non horsey friends and family suggested I should call the dealer, everyone on NR said work on it and make some changes (thankyou
!)
http://www.newrider.com/forum/showthread.php?t=201881
One thing at a time.
The back man came to investigate his hoof lifting phobia and offside stiffness. He didn't find anything out of the ordinary but watching him interact with my boy was very reassuring. He had such a fantastically kind and fun way of working with horses and he really got on well with Flip. It made me realise that he possibly wasn’t the crazy, wild beast I'd thought, perhaps instead just a big, sweet natured and genuine wimp.
The day after the back man worked his magic Flipo was walking lame. Mental that these days I can video the limp on my phone and keep track of how bad it was getting. Someone suggested abscess. After all the horrible rain (which I stood in, singing to Flip), dealing with an abscess in all that mud was going to be hell. Luckily that was the weekend that I got a spot at a livery yard 12 miles from my house, right beside my friend’s horses. The upshot was that Flip got some horsey company and I get a horsey mentor, but a rather long round trip to see my boy proved just how committed I am. I also learnt the pony nuts box loading technique that day.
So how do you get a 750kg horse who doesn’t like lifting his feet, to pick them up so the vet can root around to find the source of pain and then stab a hole in it? No problem, if your horse is a woose. Lying on his side, complete with laboured breathing, Flipo stayed down for the majority of the poking about the vet had to do. He got up just as the vet was sharpening the blade (yikes!) but he managed it. The tricky bit was then dressing the abscess for the next three weeks. There is no nappy big enough to cater for Flipo’s hooves, and they aren’t as big as a Shire or Clydesdale so I sympathise with anyone in this predicament.
The top photo has Flipo sporting the lovely equiboot. £40 and lost twice, very difficult to put on. Cue a great deal of time spent searching for the damn thing. I had to pen him in to a small area and cart buckets as it kept getting stuck in the marsh where the water trough was.
Next picture two, the slightly more reliable plastic sack and duct tape dressing. Perfectly feasible as long as two people are available to help put it on. otherwise headcollars and leadropes are broken. Somehow it was impossible to get Flip to put his hoof down dead centre on the plastic sack without him moving it straight afterwards. Cue more crying on my part.
Picture three, the canvas boot, hands down the best option (I now have four spare ones). The only remaining issue was that every time I cleaned the hoof he slammed it down in the mud and I had to start again. I am now a pro at abscess dressing a foot shy blonde. An old towel incase he puts his hoof down and duct tape over the Velcro fastening (that strap doesn’t fit round 11inches of bone). Oh and some pony nuts. Job done. By the way, the pleats were cruelly done by my mate who came to hold Flip while I was dealing with the abscess.
So overall, painful falls, moves and abscesses didn’t make things feel like we’d had a good start. However visiting Flipo just before and straight after work made my day much more bearable and I now know that I couldn’t have made a better decision to move him when I did. It just goes to show, you can avoid taking chances just because something ‘might’ go wrong. When push comes to shove, if you do take the chance and things go belly up, you cope.
Lessons learnt this month –
1. Flipo loves pony nuts (used only as a bribe on occasion), but hates polo mints
2. I need to redevelop a balanced, deep seat to instill confidence and trust in my horse when riding.
3. Flipo enjoys willy cleaning a little bit more thant I would have hoped - why am I still single?
4. Some things I just can’t do on my own.
5. My horse is a woose
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