Monday, December 27, 2010

Shelby. Growing up to be just like Mac.

I haven't gotten to ride at all since I've been on break. It's really getting on my nerves that the ground is always completely covered in snow and ice when all I really want is to ride my Wella.
But I didn't come here to complain about not getting to ride.
Little Shelby is sick. She's very sick. She's been sick for a long time. It started when she was a baby and she never managed to shed out. We finally clipped her so that she wouldn't overheat in the summer sun. Jean thought something was wrong, but she didn't really bother Angie, the vet, with it until recently.
Shelby started going off her grain, getting lethargic, and stocking up in her legs (even with turnout). Her glands under her jaw were swollen, and she had a fever too. I think she had a bit of a cough, just to add something else bad to the mix. It was horrible. They took her to an equine clinic and they said it was something like bacterial pneumonia. She went home and got lots of antibiotics and steroids and stuff that would make her better (at this point, I really don't know what she's been getting because I've been away a lot and because of the sheer amount of stuff we're putting in her).
Now she's losing her hair and she's got raw spots on her skin. She's a horrible sight. But she started getting better. The swelling in her body went down tremendously. She started playing again, and roaming around the barn as we let her out of her stall for playtime. Her appetite picked up again and her fever went away.
And now she's gotten worse.
She's staggering around the stall, slamming into the walls and running into her buckets. She's almost fallen a few times. According to Jean and Angie, she almost drowned herself in her water bucket after "forgetting" that she was drinking and pushing her whole face in for a long time. She's only allowed to have a very small amount of water at a time now, and I had to stand there and watch her struggle to swallow while I made sure she didn't drown.
The worst part of this? It's a painful reminder of Mac's last days.
(Well, the worst part is that she will probably have to be euthanised unless something amazing happens, because the poor creature is suffering. But it still makes me think about Mac.)

Monday, December 13, 2010

All About Stella

I found this while cleaning up in my room a bit today. I wrote it while preparing my 4-H project book for Stella, before the first year I showed her at State. It made me smile:

ALL ABOUT STELLA
"Hi everyone! My name is Steel Lukin, but everyone calls me Stella. My "dad," Larry, says that they call me Steel Lukin because I am dark grey like steel. Sam, my "mom," tells me that my name means "star" in Latin, and she likes to cut apples for me so that I can look at the star...and then eat it, of course!
I am an Appendix Quarter Horse, and I am six years old. [Note: she's eight now.] Mom sometimes tells me that I'm "fairly green," but I swear that I'm really grey! Okay, okay--sometimes I get grass stains on my withers when I roll, but mom is really silly. Not only does she say that I'm "green," but she also jumps off my back every once in a while and lies down on the ground. I mean, when I'm really super scared or confused, she jumps right off and leaves me to gallop around, wondering where she went. She always comes back though, and she promises that everything is okay.
I'm a very happy horse, and I like to do a lot of things with my mom. She likes to let me walk around and eat grass while she holds onto my pretty purple lead rope. (I love purple, and mom always tries to buy things for us that are pretty and purple.) I love to eat, sniff, and cruise around while mom fusses over me and talks to me. Sometimes I ask mom if we can hand-gallop when we ride. She usually listens to me and will tell me when it's okay. I love to go fast! I really don't like dark places on the ground, though. Mom just doesn't understand that she's going to fall into a bottomless pit if she walks into them! I also hate the sound of rain falling onto the roof. Where's that stuff coming from, anyway? I'm very friendly. I love dogs, cats, and other horses (except for the ones who nip, scratch, and kick). I really love people too, as long as they don't hurt or scare me.
Mom always tells me that she "loves" and "needs" me. Whenever we ride out to the back field, mom always stops me at a big mound of dirt and pats me. We sit there for a while, and mom whispers a few words to herself. I can never quite hear what she's saying, but she says it with great passion and sadness in her voice. When we ride off, I try to give her a good ride; she always seems so happy when I do. Sometimes mom goes out to the back field by herself. She comes back with tears in her eyes, and then she comes into my stall. I like to nudge her with my velvety nose because it makes her smile. Mom loves to kiss my nose. She calls it a "squiggler"--how silly! Then, mom leans on my shoulder and wraps her arms around my neck. I never move. She leans on me so much that she'd certainly fall if I stepped away from her. I feel like it's my job to keep her on her feet."

I feel like it ends pretty abruptly, but every time I read it I feel really sad and really happy at the same time.
Eventually I'll get around to posting about all the "adventures" I've been having. I've gotten lazy. Maybe tomorrow? :P