Goodbye Argus, Goodbye Ridge

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –
Between the Heaves of Storm –

The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset – when the King
Be witnessed – in the Room –

I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away
What portions of me be
Assignable – and then it was
There interposed a Fly –

With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –
Between the light – and me –
And then the Windows failed – and then
I could not see to see –

~Emily Dickinson

It is with great sadness that I announce that Argus' journey on Earth ended on a mild winter day on Tuesday, November 22, 2011. He was accompanied by his best friend, Ridge, who also died the same day.

Five days earlier, Argus sustained a sudden and severe shoulder injury. I had spent time with him earlier that day, checking him thoroughly and making plans to have the vet out to look at him. He had been having a lot of trouble with his knees and was dropping weight rapidly. Little did I know that that day would be his last happy time in pasture.

Around 2pm, I looked out at Argus in the field, grazing with Odie, Ridge, Dallas and Indy. I remember thinking about how content he seemed. I watched him as he lowered himself down to roll in his favorite spot in the pasture, then went to take a shower. Only a few minutes later, I saw him in pasture, his left front leg extended awkwardly. He was unable to bear weight on it, and his shoulder was rapidly swelling. A large lump that had not been there previously was also apparent.

A vet was summoned immediately. He felt that Argus had sustained some sort of severe muscle or nerve damage but did not suspect a fracture. "Only time will tell," he said tentatively. We loaded Argus up on bute and banamine, and made him as comfortable as possible. With the passage of five days, Argus did not improve, but rather worsened, and with his severely arthritic right knee bearing all his weight, he was in tremendous pain. A trailer ride to a large animal hospital for more in-depth diagnosis was not possible, but I had a second vet out for a second opinion. He sadly concluded that Argus' injury was grave, with no hope for improvement. With a heavy heart, I made the decision to end Argus' pain. Sadly, Dr. Miller was unable to attend to Argus that day.

While waiting for the vet to arrive, Ridge, Argus' best friend and constant companion, began to colic.

Argus' last hours were filled with love and care. He was brushed and loved. I talked to him about all the hope and joy he had brought me and so many others. He ate buckets of treats. He crunched carrots and apples. Yet his eyes were distant. His pain palpable. I ached at the thought of letting him go, and yet ached at seeing him suffer so much.

The end was quiet and peaceful. Argus stood in the pasture, surrounded by all his friends. Odie the mule stood stoically at his side, comforting him. Ridge was cared for by the vet's assistant. The vet administered the first of two syringes that would end Argus' life, and I stroked him and told him how much I loved him. I stepped back, Argus' eyes fixed on me, and told him, over and over, "I love you. It's okay to let go now." He seemed so tired, yet he stood for a long time, and when the drugs finally overtook him, he gracefully crumpled to the ground. I held his head in my lap; he died in my arms.

Unable to really grieve or process the loss of Argus, I immediately turned to the colicking Ridge, who received veterinary care that made him more comfortable. Throughout the day, I nursed Ridge and kept in frequent contact with the vet. By early evening, it was apparent to me that this was not a minor colic. Numb and in shock, I called the vet out again. By this time, Ridge's pain was becoming unmanageable, his gut sounds had diminished, and he began refluxing stomach fluid out through his nose.

So on this terrible day, less than seven hours after Argus left us, I found myself saying those words yet again: "I love you. It's okay to let go now," to Ridge as we released him from his pain. It was dark outside. The only lights reaching Ridge were the headlights of the vet's truck. And once again, Odie stood nearby as Ridge crumpled gracefully to the ground. I held his head in my lap as he took a few last breaths, which seemed almost ghostly as the warm air from his lungs met with the cold air outside, illuminated by the lights. And then Ridge was gone.

My two boys, the best friends we called "the bookends" and "the twins" because of how similar they looked, and how closely they always stood together, had gone to the Rainbow Bridge together. Argus could never stand being alone, and even in death, he was accompanied by his buddy Ridge.

It was a shocking and exquisitely painful day, and yet, when I think about it, there was something amazing in this turn of events that comforted me, knowing that some unseen force, be it God or the universe, had kept them together.

Argus and Ridge, our bookends, passed away together on a day with incredible symmetry: 11-22-11

Of all of the days of Argus' 18 years, and Ridge's 25 years, they went together, and they went on a date that looked itself like bookends. I hope you enjoy these photos of the two of them, taking during the nearly four years that Argus was part of my family. I miss them both more than words can express.















My deepest thanks go to Dr. Grant Miller of the Sonoma CHANGE Program for working so long and hard to give Argus the second chance he deserved, and for providing veterinary care that kept him comfortable for four years neither of ever expected he'd have. This from Dr. Miller: "His life was both tragic and beautiful, and his time with you was a blessing that restores my hope for humankind. Argus was an incredible fighter and I will always think of him as a living representation of perseverance and pride."

Thanks also go to my mother, Carol, who financially supported her "Argie boy" over the last four years. Your support and kindness was always heartfelt, Mom!

Thanks also goes to my family: My daughters, Demi and Shelby, who cared for Argus daily through thick and thin, and also put up with his shenanigans; my sons Drew and Ethan, who are always patient with their mother and her "horse stuff." And to my husband, Ken, who has set many a fence post without complaint. I love you all.

Several people have requested information about making a donation in memory of Argus and to support Dr. Miller's continued work with abused horses. Donations to the Sonoma CHANGE Program's "Special Needs Fund" are earmarked for providing program horses with extraordinary comfort measures such as the twice-yearly knee injections Argus received gratis via Dr. Miller and CHANGE. Donations to CHANGE's "Humane Education Fund" go directly to pay for equine education for Animal Control officers and at-risk horse owners. Please join me in supporting this worthy endeavor.

Thank you to all of you who have shared Argus' journey with me.
This will be my last blog post.
Until we meet again, rest in peace my beloved Argus and Ridge.

~Katie












Postscript: Argus' body was taken to the University of California at Davis for study and a necropsy. The preliminary necropsy report stated that Argus was riddled with melanomas. They appeared alongside every major organ, and several large melanomas that had formed along his left scapula had caused the muscle to detach. We could not have saved him --- this time.

The Happy Days of Summer

Argus after his first full-body soap bath ever. He was so proud of himself, he refused to put his boy parts away!



After a long, wet winter and a short spring, the glorious days of Northern California's summer are here. Balmy days graced by a gentle southwest breeze give way to cool evenings as the coastal fog stretches its slender fingers 20 miles inland to our farm. The horses enter their carefree summer routine of baths, horse shows, moonlight adventures, giggling children and fly masks. It is a happy time on the farm.

Argus is in his fourth summer of freedom and life is good. One day melds into the next as he wanders the pastures with friends, picking carefully through the dry layers of flopped-over native ryegrass in search of the ultimate blade of grass. Occasionally he stops his grazing to stand erect and frozen, sentinel-like, as he stares at something far in the distance: a lone figure walking on a ridge-top miles away; a vineyard worker shuffling down the rows of grapes; a ghost-like coyote hunting in the hay field out back. The other horses rarely notice these things. Argus sees everything. Watches everything. His ability to stand and study the world as it moves around him was how he stayed sane when he lived in Hell. After all, his name is Argus, which means "watchful."

A nudge from a buddy, and Argus comes back to Earth. His newest friend, Dallas, is a mischievous Thoroughbred who came to board with us and has filled a tremendous void left when Half Pint died: leader. Argus, who spent a year as reluctant head of the herd, did not do well without a boss. He was more nervous, less sure of himself. When Dallas joined us last December, life became easier for Argus, more predictable. With a casual glance, Dallas 'directs' Argus, who happily complies, relieved to be second in command once again.

Ridge is in the process of re-joining the group, which includes Argus, Dallas, Odie the Mule and Indy. Four white horses and one bay make for humorous comments from visitors. (Honestly! I did not plan to have four white horses!) Today is the second day Ridge has been turned out into the small pasture with Argus, and the joy on Argus' face is palpable. His bookend buddy, his 'twin,' his best friend is finally back in action, Ridge's badly bowed tendon finally having healed itself (as best it can) after 16 months of rest and rehabilitation.

Odie, Indy and Dallas come and go from the property, off at any given moment to a horse show, riding lesson, clinic or Pony Club event. Argus tolerates this for the most part, sometimes weaving nervously as we pull away, leaving Ridge to provide comfort. When we return, Argus is often waiting in the pasture, near the front gate, and heralds our arrival home with joyous whinnies and a gallop back to the barn that would put any racehorse to shame. Argus loves to see horse trailers arrive, but hates to see them go. Despite having ridden in a horse trailer only once in his entire life, he seems to understand what they mean.

I'm grateful to the people who help Argus have the best quality of life possible. Argus lives in a body that bears the legacy of a lifetime of abuse; the people in his life work hard to make every day of freedom a happy one.

My daughters, Demi and Shelby, work tirelessly in the barn without complaint, and who share my pride in Argus' accomplishments ("Mom," Demi gushed recently, "Argus was so good for the farrier that he was the best of all the horses!")

My mom, who slips me a check every month "for Argies."

Eric White, our farrier, who works slowly and patiently with Argus, and tell me what a good horse he is.

Years of confinement have riddled his body with arthritis; Dr. Suzanne Guyton gives Argus chiropractic adjustments and coaches us on carrot stretches, an essential therapy in a horse whose neck is so arthritic that is is threatening to fuse in places.

Most of all, I am grateful to Argus' good friend Dr. Grant Miller, who saved Argus to begin with. Argus is a quiet source of comfort and pride to both of us, this horse who fills hearts with joy and the sense that even suffering can birth beauty. Recently, Dr. Miller came to inject Argus' painfully-arthritic knee joints. We sighed as we looked at his enlarged right knee, wondering how long we could keep Argus comfortable on it. We remind each other that it's about quality, not quantity, but I selfishly want both for Argus. Afterward, we took advantage of the sedation to give Argus his first full-body soap bath ever, the vet and the housewife --- two unlikely friends who share a common bond in a form of a rangy white horse. Dr. Miller took the following photos of our spa day:

Even sedated, Argus was not crazy about the water. Dr. Miller had us face him into the barn wall to discourage escape, which worked!











Once clean, we went to work with Show Sheen, brushes, and scissors. Dr. Miller and Demi were upset with me for Argus' "high and tight" mane trim. This horse has enough hair for FOUR horses and I'm not combing out a long, thick mane every week! That huge tail is enough!

Enjoy your summer, and thanks for keeping up with with the story of Argus! Meantime, check out this story on NPR's California Report about Dr. Miller and The Sonoma CHANGE Program, which rescued Argus!

Katie, Argus & the whole gang at Watermark Farm

A Shadow from the Past

Argus' friend Dr. Miller recently sent me this video taken of Argus standing in the pen where he spent so many years, at the Sonoma County home of Pat Tremaine. This video was shot in November 2007 and used in the felony animal cruelty case against Tremaine (she was convicted of two counts of felony animal cruelty). It's a short clip but it shows a very neurotic Argus weaving (swaying back and forth), something I'm told he did incessantly. I watch it and it makes my stomach turn. It explains the severe arthritis in Argus' knees and neck. Thank goodness Argus no longer has to live this way. He still weaves at times, but mostly when he's anxiously waiting his big tub of dinner.

If you can believe it, this video was shot from the well-traveled road outside Argus' pen (Goodwyn Avenue in Penngrove for you locals), just two doors down from the site of an episode of "Extreme Home Makeover." If you look closely, you can see Argus' fellow prisoner, Bobby (another Thoroughbred Ms. Tremaine kept penned up for years), in the background.



It is only because enough people finally said "ENOUGH!!" and relentlessly hounded the authorities (whose hands were tied because the horses had food, water and shelter) that Argus, Bobby, Starmaker, Athena, Destiny and Sammy are free. Please speak out for voiceless animals in these situations. Often their only hope is humans who stand up for them.

Argus On YouTube --- Finally!!!

Happy New Year!! Thanks to the technical skills of my teenage daughter, Argus has finally been memorialized on YouTube video. These two videos were taken on January 6th and show Argus and his friend Perigrin (the darker grey) exercising in the arena.

Enjoy!

Three Years of Freedom

It's time to celebrate! In a few days, Argus will have been at Watermark Farm for three years. He'll do something low-key, like gaze at me with kind eyes while I blanket him and add a few extra carrots to his grain because, after all, Argus is a real horse now.

Our big grey boy is doing so well, and I hope you will join with me, wherever you are, to say a silent word of thanks to all the people who came together to free Argus from his prison. It has been a long haul for him, but I'm pleased to say that life is very good for Argus, and he is one happy boy.

Argus' days are a pleasant and predictable routine. He's just one of the boys here at the farm and he knows it. At night he stands quietly while I throw his big Rambo blanket over his back, and he weaves in anticipation of his big tub of feed that he knows is waiting for him in the barn. I never get tired of caring for him. It's one of those pleasures I savor, for every encounter with him is joyful. He's cooperative, kind, respectful and easy. I just adore Argus and even more I adore watching him live the life he was meant to have.

Argus continues to share a pasture with his buddies Odie the Mule (who is in serious dressage training at present), Indy the Dutch Warmblood, and my new, leased horse, a Thoroughbred from New Zealand called Perigrin. (The horses all make fun of Perigrin's kiwi accent...) I'm getting a fair amount of good-natured ribbing for my collection of greys. Argus, Indy, Perigrin and the sidelined Ridge are all greys. Odie the mule is white with brown spots. Needless to say, we go through a lot of horse shampoo here.

For those that have asked, Argus' buddy Ridge continues to be on long-term rest for a severe bowed tendon. The good news is that his most recent ultrasound showed tons of healing, and he is now handwalking. With luck and good care, Ridge will join the horses out in pasture by next June. Argus misses him, but they play over the paddock fence every day.

A few months ago, I bathed Argus and trimmed him up and made him model for some photos. Here he is in all his summer-coat glory (you didn't really want to see him covered in mud, did you?). He's posing with my daughter, Shelby, and my daughter Demi and her mule Odie.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

Katie

A Happy Summer for Argus & Valentino

I'm writing this from a kitchen table in Mocksville, North Carolina, where humidity hangs in the air like a filmy curtain, and I am hiding inside, avoiding the inevitable and most desperately-needed exercise. Fried chicken, hush puppies, gravy and grits have a way of navigating one's intestines and squishing straight through to the stomach and thighs, and I'm no exception. I swear, I would weigh 400 pounds if I lived here for long.

But I bear happy news, which I'll give first. Valentino, whom I profiled on the last two blog posts, has found an adoptive home, saving his tush from euthanasia. His new owners are Caroline and Patricia, a local couple who saw a flier that led them to Val. It was love at first sight (as someone said, the photo says it all), and now Valentino is happily ensconced at a nearby full-service equine retirement facility where he will live the good life in a large pasture with three other "active retirees" and see his moms weekly. I am deeply grateful to Caroline and Patricia, who are really fine, enlightened human beings, for making Valentino part of their family.

I worried about taking Val away from Argus, who looked up to the big bay horse like a big brother, following him everywhere. Valentino was the kind alpha leader, and all of the horses liked him. He seemed to make them feel safe as he led them around the pasture. Argus especially so.

Argus' twin and Best Friend Forever, Ridge, has been on stall rest again, having severely torn a tendon in his leg. We don't honestly know if he will make it long-term, but Ridge is such a bright spirit and so full of patience for the whole process, that I decided to give it a try. Ridge being my heart horse, my soul mate, and my best friend, it pains me to see him have all these problems. He misses Argus, and Argus misses him. They nuzzle over the fence. If Ridge recovers, he will be retired from riding, and then Argus will at last have a permanent pasture companion again.

Surprisingly, Argus seemed to take Val's leaving in stride, looking wistfully at the trailer as I led Val on, and then going back to munching his hay. Argus has been especially snuggly lately, coming to the fence for a scratch or a quick hug. He's usually a rather standoffish, "businesslike" horse, not very demonstrative, so we're all pleased by his friendliness. He loves his pasture, his "brothers" Odie the Mule and Indy The New Horse. He loves evenings, when we serve him a flake of alfalfa hay. He loves coming in for a good grooming, the girls brushing out his tail until it is like a massive curtain of snow white (Argus has an impossibly thick tail).

Argus never, ever fails to make me smile.

Enjoy your summer, wherever you are. Life is good, isn't it?

An Unpleasant Surprise

"Even experienced examiners may differ as to the cause of a horse's abnormal performance or gait. One reason is that many horses, which we suspect of having neurologic disease, may also be lame - the hard part is sorting out which is the most important problem."

--Tufts University, Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine website.



Surgeon Mindy McDonald and staff meet Valentino at the University of California at Davis.

Foster horse Valentino made his way to UC Davis a few weeks ago, accompanied by me, my two teen daughters, and a lot of warm wishes from supporters.

At UC Davis, we met with surgeon Dr. Mindy McDonald, who had agreed to evaluate Valentino's old splint fracture to see if it could be improved.


Dr. McDonald and her team of veterinary students and a resident gathered round. I trotted Val out. By their furrowed brows I could tell instantly that something was wrong. All of 5 seconds in to our lameness evaluation, the surgeon was sending for the neurologist, telling me that Val was showing signs of neurological trouble.

What?!?

I felt like I had stepped into the twilight zone. Wasn't I here for a surgery consult? Hadn't two vets at home looked at Val? Why hadn't they noticed neurological issues?

The neurologist and his team arrived, coaxing Valentino into a kind of a dance of walking figure 8's, having his tail pulled on, trotting in circles. "Ooooh, watch that!" said the neurologist to the students, "See that?"



A crowd develops as UC Davis students and veterinarians from both surgery and neurology gather to watch Valentino as he's put through neurological tests.


And then, as if sealing the deal, he asked me "Do you mind if we videotape this, for teaching purposes? We don't see cases like this all the time."

Sigh. Those are not the words you want to hear.



So to make a long story short, Valentino is a grade 3 out of 5 with clinical signs of neurological deficit in all four legs. That can mean one of several things, past spinal injury or a disease like EPM that affects them neurologically.

Cervical radiographs showed "severe" arthritis in Valentino's neck (C6 to C7). The vets also noticed that Val's neck muscles have some atrophy and he can't turn his neck with carrot stretches much at all. The EPM test came out negative.

If you're wondering, as I was, why the local vets did not catch this, we're not alone. Neuro issues tend to be fleeting, better some days, bad on others, with shifting leg lameness and clinical symptoms heightened by stress (a 2 hour trailer ride to Davis) and other factors. I'm told this happens all the time, that very qualified vets miss the diagnosis at home, and it's often caught when owners go to places like Davis for the "big guns."




I stood with Valentino in the xray room. He was sedated, it was dark, but the sadness of the pending diagnosis seemed to pour in on me.


The official diagnosis for Valentino is that he is a "Wobbler."

Looking back, it all makes sense. The vague lameness that seemed to move around, the wide-legged stance in front that I chalked up to Val being footsore. The lack of muscle in his neck, his slightly wooden movement when turning to look at something. I had a fear that Val's lameness might extend past his rear leg (which now seems to be completely fine!) but I never figured it would be something like this.

Surgery can improve a horse a grade, but in Valentino's case, he is not considered a candidate for surgery. Because his sense of proprioception (awareness of the limbs) is not 100%, he can never be ridden again.

Does Valentino know all this? No. He's a happy fellow who's so easy to be around. He is now out in pasture with Argus, who looks up to Valentino like a leader and follows him everywhere. They are now inseparable (Ridge is once again banished to stall rest....but that's for another post!). He is comfortable, he is not in pain. The vets all say that he can live perfectly well in retirement and that wobblers can live many years without progession of symptoms.

The sad fact now is that people are not exactly lining up to adopt an unrideable horse, let alone one that's a wobbler. I cannot keep Valentino permanently, and the rescue that is fostering him is not making much effort to place him. If I cannot find him a suitable home, he will be euthanized.

That would be such a shame. Valentino is a wonderful friend who has much to live for.

If anyone lives in Northern California who might be interested in adopting Valentino, please contact me immediately at watermarkfarm1@yahoo.com

Below is Valentino at a May 1 horse show. My daughter Demi, 15, braided him and entered him in a halter class, the only class he could do. Val was a star and took 3rd place, then stood tied to the trailer all day, munching happily. He is such a good horse.

Valentino Update: The Money Has Been Raised!! Thank You!!

Thank you to all of the Argus blog readers for your support of Valentino's surgery fund. As of Tuesday, April 20, $770 had been raised ($500 single donation, $200 single donation, plus smaller donations totaling $70).

Then an amazing thing happened....A donor stepped forward and pledged to cover the remaining balance!

The next step for Valentino is a full set of radiographs (8-10 of them) of the fractured splint bone in order to determine the best method for surgical correction. SAFER (the organization that is helping Valentino) is waiting for direction from the surgeon as to where she wants these radiographs done, here at home or up at UC Davis.

From there, we hope to proceed with a surgery date!

Thank you! Updates to come as things progress.

A Shameless Plea for Valentino

Watermark Farm has an unexpected foster horse, and he needs your help.

Valentino is a 14-year-old Thoroughbred gelding who raced under the Jockey Club name "Polkatime." He was bred in Maryland and raced in Illinois, earning $22,000 over the course of his career. Somehow he made it out to California for a second career as a show hunter.

Sadly, Val lost his home to a divorce and has been shuffled through two horse rescues, finally landing in foster care with Sonoma Action For Equine Rescue (SAFER). Valentino's future is uncertain due to the fact that he is not serviceably sound, and SAFER has had a hard time lately placing companion-only homes.

So how did this beautiful and wise gelding wind up in foster care at Watermark Farm? While I was horse shopping for my daughter, I met Valentino, who was quite depressed at the time, and offered to do a riding assessment for the rescue. I brought him home for what I thought was a week or so and tested his lungeing and riding skills. He's very well trained, an old show horse for sure, and he is an absolute gentleman.



Unfortunately, I also noticed that he was not sound in his left hind hock, and that it had a big, suspicious lump on the outside.




A handful of local ladies donated funds to cover some veterinary investigation for Val. I paid the vet call and exam. Sylvie covered the cost of xrays. We expected to hear that Val's hocks were a big fat mess.

Dr. Miller examined him and took some xrays. To our surprise, Val's hock joints were in decent shape for a 14-year-old former racehorse. Dr. Miller suspected the cause of the lameness to be an old, fractured splint bone head on the outside of his left hind leg. The fracture appeared to be somewhat unstable, as you can pinch it with your fingers and I swear you can feel it move.



The splint bone is a remnant of prehistoric days, when horses had three toes. These days, all that's left is a long, thin bone that sits alongside the cannon bone. Splint bones occasionally cause a horse grief if they are kicked or hit in such a way that they fracture. Time and rest usually allow them to heal without incident, and the horse goes on to be sound. Occasionally, a horse will fracture the splint bone in such a way that it causes them discomfort unless the fracture is surgically treated.

Obviously, no one ever did this for Val.

We consulted with three surgeons, all of whom requested an ultrasound exam for Val. The concern was that tendons and ligaments passing over and around this calcified fracture might already be damaged. Last week, Valentino had an exam with an ultrasound specialist, thanks again to a private donation (thanks Heidi!). To our great pleasure and surprise, Dr. Julie Wilkins said Valentino's soft structures in the hind leg/hock are "pristine" and there is no damage.

That means Valentino is a great candidate for splint removal surgery, which is a common procedure that may well restore him to a level of soundness that may allow him to be a riding horse again.

The catch? As a horse rescue, SAFER does not normally cover surgical procedures like this unless they come from donations made specifically for that purpose.

We need to raise a minimum $2,000 for Valentino, $500 to cover the cost of an series of 8-10 xrays that will pinpoint the fracture location for the surgeon, and about $1500 to cover the cost of the surgery itself.

If Valentino can have his surgery, I will donate board and care here at the farm to cover his complete rehabilitation and return to work.

This is a horse worth saving, a gentle, well trained old show hunter who likes people and other horses, is drop-dead gorgeous, and moves like a ballerina. Can you help Valentino with a tax-deductible donation to help SAFER fund his surgery?

Here is Valentino's page at the SAFER site, with photos of Valentino's appointment with Dr. Grant Miller and Dr. Julie Wilkins: http://saferhorse.com/Val%20Update.htm

Donations to help Valentino may be made to the 501(c)3 non-profit SAFER. Please mark your donation "Valentino medical fund":

To donate to SAFER via PayPal, click here.

To mail a check:

SAFER
9501 Mill Station Road
Sebastopol, CA 95472

For more information about SAFER and Valentino, please contact SAFER President Kate Sullivan at (707) 824-9543

An Argus Spring Update: Knees, Teeth...And A New Brother!

For everyone that has been emailing and asking for updates, here you go!

After a very wet winter, spring is starting to emerge at Watermark Farm. For the most part, Argus has whiled away the long, bleak days with Odie and Ridge at his side. He continues to learn new things, and experience new things.

Argus loves to eat his nightly bucket of pelleted feeds in his stall, which is attached to a paddock which is attached to the pasture. He panics when we shut that paddock gate, so every night, Ridge and Odie come in from the pasture into their paddocks. Argus' gate is left open, so he can move in and out. This winter, for the first time, Argus was able to not only tolerate eating his meals inside his stall, but he LIKES it! Go figure. Each night, we we bring the horses in from turnout, Argus waits patiently in his stall for me to bring him his dinner. It amazes me that even after more than two years with us, Argus still makes changes.

Argus had his teeth floated and knees injected recently. His knees are extremely arthritic and so joint injections every 9 months are the only way to keep him pasture sound. The difference with those knee injections is incredible.







Argus goes from quivering knees that he can't straighten fully to being almost normal. Big thanks to his friend Dr. Miller for providing this service (which normally costs $500) to Argus at no cost.




Good news! When Argus arrived in foster care, his front teeth were a mess of black cavities. I'd never seen a horse with cavities like that. During Argus' recent teeth floating, Dr. Miller worked on the incisors. He noted that the cavities are disappearing! Since a horse's teeth constantly erupt, as the vet has filed them down each year, combined with Argus' good diet, the decay has stopped and now with time will simply be ground off. Dr. Miller says the cause of all this decay is because Argus was fed bacteria-laden rotting produce ---- lettuce, bell peppers, etc. The constant stream of bacteria in his feed also rotted his teeth.



Argus has had a hard time adjusting to Ridge, who is now being ridden regularly and has healed from his fractured pelvis (yay Ridge!) being taken out of the pasture and going on rides. At first, Argus panicked so much that we had to lock him in his paddock so he wouldn't run around and hurt himself. He ran himself into a lather, even if he could SEE Ridge in the arena right next to him. When we removed Odie for a ride as well, it was awful to see how miserable Argus became. With no Half Pint to stand in the pasture and calm him, this was a different experience for everyone.

Over time, and with a lot of patience, Argus is now able to tolerate our taking Ridge and Odie away in the trailer for a trail ride....as long as our sole mare (Angel) stands in the paddock next to him, AND as long as I ply him with alfalfa. It's taken several months to get to this point, but Argus is slowly getting used to having his friends come and go.

Argus' bond with Ridge and Odie is very strong, but at the same time, it's important that horses don't become so "herd bound" to each other that they cannot ever be separated for grooming, riding or farrier or veterinary care.

On New Year's Eve, we had a scary night. It seems that every person in our rural area decided to light off entire packs of firecrackers, or illegal fireworks, or shoot their guns. From 10pm to 1am, I stood in the barn, on guard. The horses were all calm, except for poor Argus, who was simply terrified of the noise and flashing lights. I could not catch Argus to calm him. A funny thing happened. I noticed that Ridge and Odie kept moving themselves so that Argus was sandwiched between them in the pasture. They stood very close to him, touching. He shook very hard. They calmly stood for hours, moving slightly to keep enclosing him. Thanks to those two sweet and brave horses, Argus made it through the night without panicking.

On a sad note, we lost our dear Shetland pony, Ginger, in February. She had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure last fall, so we knew it was coming. She lay down in the barn late one night, and could not get up. The vet came at 1am and put her to sleep. Ginger was about 35 years old, and we miss her terribly.

On a happy note....our little shrinking horse family just expanded. "Indiana Jones" is a 20 year old Dutch warmblood/Arabian cross that has joined us as a Pony Club mount for our 12 year old daughter, Shelby. Indy is also a rescue horse! It is entirely coincidental that he is also white. So this year, we'll have three white horses and one partially white mule out in the pasture. It should be fun!

(NO! This is neither Argus nor Ridge!)





Love and hugs to everyone from Argus, Ridge, Odie, Angel and their new "brother" Indy!

Christmas at Watermark Farm

By popular request, here is Argus' 2008 Christmas poem.
Merry Christmas to all!

~Katie

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS AT WATERMARK FARM

'TWAS the night before Christmas
And all through the barn
Not a creature was stirring
Anywhere on the farm

The stockings were hung
On the stall doors with care
In hopes that Saint Nicholas
Soon would be there

The horses were all snuggled
Into straw-banked beds
While visions of sweet feed
Danced in their heads

And Argus was in his blanket
Chubby Half Pint going bare
Both hoping and wishing
Santa soon would be there

When out in the arena
There arose such a clatter!
They leapt into their paddocks
To see what was the matter!

The moon on the puddles
In the wet winter pasture
Made the night light so blinding
They breathed faster and faster!

When what to their
Brown horsey eyes should appear
But a jolly red sleigh
And eight hungry reindeer

In the driver's seat sat Santa
All dressed up in red
And he winked at the horses
As they spied from their beds

Then something odd happened
The horses grew brave
And Santa addressed them
Which made them quite grave:

"Now Argus! Now Half Pint!
Now Odie and Angel!
Now Ginger and Caleb!
And Ridge in the stable!"

"To your herd mates be kind
And don't waste your hay!
Take care of your riders
And love each new day!"

As dry shavings that before
The wild hurricane fly
When they meet with the winds
Mount to the sky

And suddenly the horses
Who before felt quite shy
Felt themselves flying around
With Santa in the sky!

So around the farm
The horses they flew
They looked down on the home
They loved and they knew

And then, on the house top
They thumped on the roof
And the family inside
Heard the pounding of hooves

"What's that?" they shouted
As they woke from their beds
"We thought we heard horses
Loose overhead!"

So out to the stables
The family they ran
Where they found it quite empty
Save for the horse goat, An'

They peered at the sky
For a sign of the equines
And for a moment, saw Santa
Riding Argus just fine

Then suddenly, and quietly
The horses were there
Munching hay and looking sleepy
As if they had no cares

So the lights were extinguished
The excitement went "poof"
And the family missed Santa
Spying down from the roof

To each horse, he gave a gift
And when he got to the last
It was Argus, the white one
He'd seen on many a Christmas past

"You're a good horse, dear Argus"
Santa said with a tear,
You have suffered so long
So many a year"

"I promise you will always
Have a loving, peaceful life
With pastures and buddies
An end of all strife"

Argus thought quietly
About all the nights
And the bleak Christmases of waiting
For the arrival of light

This, his second Christmas
Of freedom and cheer
He'd been a real horse, a free horse
For more than a year

Santa sprang to his sleigh
To his team gave a whistle
And winking once more at Argus
He flew away like a missile

The horses heard him exclaim
As he drove out of sight
"Merry Christmas, dear Argus!
And to all --- a good night!"

Grateful Blanketing

It may sound silly, but I feel so happy when I blanket Argus.

As with any old horse, I casually throw the big green horse jacket up over his back, where I tug and slide it until it's in position. Argus eats his grain and regards me a bit warily, but stands. Alone in the barn, I am grinning.

Buckle the chest, buckle the belly straps. Pull Argus' unfairly enormously thick tail (I swear to God, this horse has the hair of 10 horses) out from behind the poop-encrusted elastic tail strap. Say "good boy!" in my most pleased tone, offer a grateful chest rub, and slip out the door.

Contrast this with two years ago.

Argus is standing, shaking with cold, in the dark, in a paddock. He has been out of prison only two weeks now. He is not sure if any of this is real. I death-grip the halter while carefully, carefully sliding the accordion-folded blanket over his withers. He is ready to explode, but you can tell he's trying to trust me. It takes 20 minutes of coaxing and crooning to the wild-eyed Argus to get the blanket on. Afterward, as he stands, warm at last, I swear he gets it. He gets what the blanket is for.

Or a year ago.

Blanketing had become a kind of dance. Haltered, Argus would now stand, quivering but calm in his own strange way, for the first part of blanketing, the blanket-over-the-withers part. Argus would stand for the chest buckling part. But the pulling-the-blanket-back-over-the-body part made him lurch forward. One hand on his lead rope, another on the blanket. We'd get the job done. But it wasn't always that much fun.

And this account doesn't even address the unblanketing part, which is to say it was only the aforementioned in reverse, only more exciting.

That is why, as I stood tonight under the stonewashed gray-black of a misty December sky, blanketing Argus as you would any old horse, I felt a wash of gratitude at this remarkable accomplishment. In saving Argus, I often think I've saved that part of myself that, child-like, finds meaning in everyday miracles. I smiled to myself, saying reverently "for this, I am grateful!"

Two Years!

For weeks after Half Pint's death, Argus walked out into the pasture every night around 10:30 pm. He'd face east, whinny four or five times into the darkness, then turn around and walk back into the barn.

Was he calling for his lost friend?

The three remaining geldings are doing well, although they remain a little sad without their herd alpha. Ridge has filled in nicely, and even though he lacks front teeth (they were removed due to gum disease), he kindly makes his point with Argus and Odie by 'gumming' them a bit when they get out of line. All in all, it works, and the three boys are managing. I think Argus does miss Half Pint quite a lot, though.

It has now been two years since Argus escaped his hell, two long, wonderful years of learning what it is to be a "real" horse. When he arrived, he was 15 going on two. Now he's 17 going on four, with the body, sometimes, of a 30-year-old.

Argus can now do all these things:

He stands quietly, even gratefully, for blanketing --- no halter, no fearful shaking, nothing! I can flip the blanket up over his back with great flourish, straps and buckles clanking noisily, just like a normal horse.

Dr. Miller can give Argus an IV injection without Argus rearing and plunging all over the stall, me twitching him and hanging on for dear life, Dr. Miller skillfully dancing in mid air in order to get the needle in. The other day, Dr. Miller came to inject Argus' painful knee joints. He gave the IV sedation right in the aisleway of the barn, and Argus just stood there, blinking calmly. Just like any other horse. I felt so proud of Argus, and Dr. Miller did, too. We celebrated by giving Argus his first monthly Legend injection, an IV shot that is helping Argus' arthritic joints so much that he is dancing in pasture again. Soon, I will be the one administering this injection. I never thought I'd be able to give this horse an IV shot.

Argus can come into his stall and paddock for a short time without getting frantic and weaving. In fact, he even likes it. Every evening, he stands at the gate to his paddock, knowing that a big tub of fattening food awaits him inside.

Argus has a best friend. He and Ridge move together through the pasture in unison. They look so much alike in their matching green blankets that I can only tell them apart by looking at their tails --- Argus has a much thicker, longer tail. He and Ridge have an unusual bond for horses. They do everything literally attached at the hip, grazing cheek-to-cheek for hours on end.

He can stand quietly when the farrier trims him. He no longer jumps when the farrier drops his tools. Argus cooperates. Argus likes the farrier. When Argus came to us, he had never had his feet trimmed, or even picked up, before. Now Argus likes it when people handle his feet.

Argus no longer stands for hours and hours, staring at things far away. His eyes, which were flat and shark-like two years ago (my theory is that he developed great distance vision, and poor up-close vision from 15 years of staring at distant objects), are now warm and brown and they actually see you. Argus looks at me with happy eyes, and much is said in his gaze.

Even so, old habits die hard. We often say that Argus is like a little old man hermit who peers out at the busy world around him through a curtained window. When the vineyards next to us are full of workers, Argus stands for long minutes, quivering, head high, alert, shaking, watching, studying. If on a cold day, the geysers to the north of us send plumes of steam up from the hills, Argus watches them, frozen. He gets excited and takes a break from his staring by doing his "dressage workout." Last week I watched him canter perfect 20 meter circles in the front pasture, punctuated by long, straight lines where he perfected his tempi changes. At one point, he was cantering calmly along, changing his lead every third stride. Those dressage riders who have schooled this movement know how demanding it is to teach. For our athletic Argus, even riddled with arthritis, dressage comes surprisingly easy.

When I enter the stall, Argus used to walk into his paddock, standoffish and not wanting me in his space. Close contact with people was something to be avoided. Now he stands, calmly eating his grain, and doesn't leave. He likes it if I scratch his neck, speaking softly to him while he eats. He even comes to the fence to see people now.

He's interested in us now. He wants to be haltered. He loves to be groomed. He's happy to be led out of the pasture and into the barn for some "beauty parlor time."

Day after day, he makes progress in small ways. I am amazed that after two years, he's still changing, still learning new things, still trusting us more and more, still growing, still becoming a horse, and discovering more and more joy. Just seeing him out in the pasture gives me the greatest rush of pleasure.

I am proud of Argus, and I tell him so every night as I buckle his blanket on. He stands, calmly munching his beloved tub of food, and looks at me as if to say: I am proud of myself, too.


Please note: Due to adult-content spam showing up in the 'comments' section, I have disabled the ability to post anonymously. I am sorry for the inconvenience and hope you understand the need to keep the material on this blog safe and appropriate for all ages.

And Then There Were Three

Our beautiful, mischievous half Percheron Half Pint went on his last adventure yesterday, leaving us for the Rainbow Bridge and heavenly pastures free from pain.

A former PMU foal who had a rough start in life, Half Pint struggled with many health issues during his short eight years of life. From colic surgery to chronic lameness to his final bout of illness, Half Pint was a frequent flyer at UC Davis and Pioneer Equine Hospital, earning from us the begrudging nickname "our $18,000 free horse."

Of course, the $18,000 free horse won our hearts a long, long time ago.

Half Pint had been sick over the past month, but in his usual stoic way, he was brave to the end, fooling us into thinking he was not very sick. It is suspected that he had lymphoma, abdominal cancer that filled his abdomen with fluid and exhausted his heart. He was, as the vet so bluntly put it, "trying very hard to die." We, of course, helped him out, and he crumpled to the ground with the greatest of relief, free at last.

His passing leaves a huge void here at Watermark Farm, for he was more like a person than a horse with his sense of humor (stealing tools and sweatshirts), destructive ways (his record being two 2x6s in a weekend) and larger-than-life personality (visitors always wanted to meet him). Half Pint was also the head of his little herd of four, which are now a sad-eyed white trio who are lost and adrift tonight without their 'brother.'

Argus, Ridge and Odie stood nearby in their paddocks, watching everything. Knowing. Half Pint, his heart raging at 90 beats per minute, lumbered slowly into the pasture with me. I cried and told him what would happen, and how much I loved him. Then the vet came to give Half Pint his gift of a humane death. Half Pint slipped away peacefully. Then I turned Argus, Odie and Ridge out with Half Pint for a final goodbye.

The pictures say it all.










































Half Pint
2001 - October 9, 2009

Adjustments

Happy Argus, who now ambles through life, and his pasture, without a care in the world. It's a far cry from the long days stuck in a pen, where weaving and staring at things in the distance whiled away an endless sentence.

Sure, shadows of the Old Life are not far away. Argus, who has the mind of a four-year-old and the body of a 30-year-old (even though he's only 17) stands on knees so arthritic he cannot straighten them fully. Regular joint injections and 24/7 movement keep the pain at bay, but it's still hard to watch Argus lay down. He bends his knees as far as they will go (which isn't far enough!), and kind of shakes all over as he flops down, hard, on his side.

Occasionally, Argus experiences being "out" in his upper neck, where some upper cervical vertebrae form a logjam, an event so profoundly painful that he cannot lower his head, eat or drink or be touched, even to be haltered. It lasts for a day or two, me plying him with raised buckets and feed bags to no avail. The vet comes out and stands, worried. His best drugs seem no match for the ghost of Argus' past.

So occasionally, Argus sees the chiropractor. In this case, it's Dr. Suzanne Guyton, who cheerfully comes to the farm every 8 weeks or so to work on the horses (and one dog). I met Dr. Guyton six years ago, and have been amazed by her work ever since.



When she first met Argus, her face was troubled as she examined him. I was not disillusioned about her ability to help him. After all, he'd lived in a pen since he was a weanling, living on stale french bread and passing the years of his growth and development without enough movement to accomplish these things normally.

His entire pelvis and sacrum were a mess, so badly fixated and jammed that not one joint in the structure functioned normally. Dr. Guyton was amazed he could walk at all. His back nearly as bad, and his neck....she let out a gasp, and looked at me sadly. "Well," she said quietly, looking at me as if she were telling me I had only weeks to live, "we'll do whatever we can."

A few days ago, Dr. Guyton worked on Argus. As usual, his neck was a mess, the first three vertebrae, including the giant C-1 (aka, "the Atlas") all rotated and jammed against each other, functioning not as several distinct joints but one. Dr. Guyton freed them up, then asked me to do daily "carrot stretches" with Argus. He nodded his head in agreement!





When Dr. Guyton worked on Argus' hind end, she beamed at me with joy! After a few quick adjustments, she proudly pronounced his sacrum to be in fully-functioning condition, the joints moving nicely and in a healthy way. This horse, whom we never thought could be normal behind, was now normal behind! Hooray for Argus!








Argus loves seeing the chiropractor or the farrier, because he knows he will be plied with a soothing bucket of alfalfa-molasses. Afterward, he strolled calmly back out to pasture, where Ridge, Half Pint, and Odie waited eagerly for him.



At the water tub, Ridge and Argus compared their reports cards from the chiropractor, Ridge characteristically boasting to Argus about his A+ verus Argus' B. Ridge is like Argus' big brother, bossy at times but very protective of him. During Ridge's entire 9 month period of confinement for his pelvic fracture, he saw the chiropractor and bodyworker on a monthly basis. It paid off, keeping the rest of his body functioning as well as possible while his bone healed. Now Ridge and I are embarking on a 30 day groundwork period; by October, I hope to sit on him for the first time in more than a year. He is doing well --- and 23 years old! (That's Argus on the left).



Just a day or so ago, I was up early. Argus stood alone out in the front pasture, and as happens so often these days, I was thinking about how beautiful he is as he stopped to stare at something in the vineyard









It lasted only a moment, as Argus rarely finds the need to stare off into the distance for very long these days. Soon, his head drifted back to earth as Argus marched off in search of another tasty blade of grass.