Hard Days and Better Times – Part 4 – Our New Beginning, and Not Our End (A long post but it is the full story)

Like a phoenix that dies tragically and violently by bursting into flames only to be reborn from the ashes, so too must we rise from our own tragedies. The violent end of hope and dreams early on need only be a climatic end to a chapter, not to life itself. As Vae continued to improve with the function and dexterity of his lips and tongue, I began to hope that we could rise above this accident and ride again. I started him under saddle, and everything seemed to be going well. Our vet had checked him as best they could and could find no reason to delay progress and moving on in our partnership. Just shy of a year after the accident, I chose to take him on a ride, his first, in the hills of Central CA on a relative's ranch. He was a little nervous, but I expected that as this was his first trip off property and in an open environment with new horses and experiences. I expected the few quick steps when a jack rabbit ran out from the bush and crossed our path, but he settled easily and began to relax and enjoy the ride. What I didn't expect was an explosion of panic and power from him. As we were momentarily stopped at a gate, another rider that I had been talking too began to back up towards us so they could show us something on their phone. Something in that movement sent sheer panic and desperation through Vae and he began to buck...hard. I remember feeling the build up. I remember gripping and settling down because I expected him to go down and out. Instead he went up, and the left side of my face met his neck with a bone crunching thwack. I was dazed but knew I needed to stay on, until, that is, I decided to bail because I was getting dizzy, not from spinning but from the hit. I landed hard on the ground and he bucked three more times then stopped where he stood and waited for me. It seemed like hours but it was only seconds from the build up of tension, to me then standing up and taking inventory of both myself and him and then climbing back on and continuing the ride. I was a little sore in my hip and lower back but no where else. We finished the ride and said good bye as we made our way home. A few days of tight muscles and a few bruises was all I thought was wrong. 2 weeks later I ended up with a nasty sinus infection and bi-lateral pink eye, and thanks to Covid, I could not get into my doctor so I had to go to an urgent care. Due to the history of the recent accident and a strange tingling in my face they took an x-ray and discovered that on top of the sinus infection and bi-lateral pink eye, I also had a depressed facial fracture of the left sinus in my cheek... oops. No pain, no swelling... just tingling. To be honest I wasn't surprised, but I also laughed pretty hard once the shock wore off. I was back in the saddle as soon as the pounding sinus headache stopped beating its own drum. We rode around our property and with the few beef cows that we have here. He would be fine and then randomly not. I lost faith. I lost hope. Every vet visit and exam continued to show there was nothing wrong. He eye was intact, his responses were spot on. There was nothing that could be found. So I sent him to a trainer in hopes that they could work it out. They could not, and 7 months later due to interruptions due to extreme winter weather he came home. In this time I did not realize how much I had suffered. How much confidence I had lost in him, and in myself. I did not get back on. I had 4 children that relied on me as well as a husband who needed me not hurt. I was afraid that getting back on him would end in my injury again, or worse. 2.5 years after the accident I decided I was done not having the confidence in him or myself. That he had potential, if someone would take the time and chance to work with him, I just didn't see that as being me any more. So, I offered him for sale. In doing so, I had to climb back on and show any potential buyers that he could be ridden in an area setting. In doing so, I began to test him and myself. In doing so, I discovered what had really happened. Anatomically, everything about his eye appears to be fine. His retina is not detached, there are no free floating blood clots, and all of the reflexes appear to be normal. BUT... something IS wrong. Something is blurry, or shadowed or distorted in some way, shape, or form. Something that would take an expert in the equine eye and neurology to possibly be able to help us figure out. However, what he needed was me to tell him it was okay. He was safe. He could trust me while I was on his back instead of at his side. And so... we rode, and rode, and rode. And today we ride. There may be a wide birth given to objects on his right side until he is confident in them, but we ride, and build confidence with each other every day. He was and will always be my Baby Vae. The horse that comes screaming across a pasture when I step outside and whistle to him and call his name. My little boy, who is not exactly what I expected, but perhaps exactly what I needed.

Photo Taken 1-29-2025