Friday Pet Peeve: Retired, not Rescued

His noble self

While chatting with a social acquaintance, I mentioned that Courage came off the track.

"Oh you rescued him," the lady said.

"No. I bought him."

"Yes, but he came off the track. I have another friend and she rescues horses off the track too."

Because I generally aim not to be a jackass (high achiever, what can I say), I didn't light into the lady and force her to see my point of view. If I had it to do over again though, I think I'd be a little more clear with her.

"Rescue" situations involve malnourished or abused animals being seized by the state or surrendered by the owners due to a lack of ability to properly care for the animal, whatever the reason.

Courage was most certainly not a rescue. Cuna wasn't. My OTTB mare in highschool wasn't either. All three of them were really classy horses. All three have excelled in their second careers. All three were clean, in good weight, well cared for and ready for a new career. (We'll talk another day about my thing for war horses. Not even kidding.)

Pre-race shenanigans

Because Courage is the one I was actually involved with, let's look at him. As we all know, he is one really classy looking horse. He has a phenomenal brain. He has a cute face. He had great connections who cared about him. There was no question of my little man ending up in a good place.

I was just lucky enough that I got to be that good place for him.

Just as you'd be personally insulted if someone bought a horse from you and claimed to "rescue" it, race trainers are insulted when people do it to them.

So it kind of annoys me when people automatically assume that all OTTBs were somehow "rescued". Some are, sure. So are quarter horses. Arabs. Warmbloods. You name, people abuse it. That's not a good thing, but it is a thing we have to deal with since we are all Grown Adults.

Let's call it like it is. Courage was in a great program and in possibly the best shape of his life. When it wasn't what he wanted to do anymore, his trainer found him a new life that would suit him better.

EBR Absolute Courage

That's why I was very specific when I ordered Courage's custom leather halter (because of course it is).

It's all the rage in event world to credit the breeders or trainers of some pretty great horses. Courage didn't come through the Fernhill system, but I wanted to memorialize the incredible work that Eugene Burns Racing put into making Absolute Courage the horse he is today.

I didn't rescue him. I also don't see the time he spent on the track as something bad or to be ashamed of. I'm proud of Courage, proud of his heritage, and happy to show it off.

Oh, and I should totally tell you some racetrack stories one of these days. He wasn't all goodness and sweetness...

When It's Time

I want to put these thoughts out there and explain my decision making process. It's really more for myself--I've never fully verbalized what Cuna and I went through. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone and since I'm a grown up and a horse owner, I can do whatever I damn well please anyways.

That said.

We had an exceptionally hard (for us) winter last year. Layers of snow and ice restricted all movement and limited turnout. Cuna hates cold weather, and his general demeanor was cranky. We pulled his shoes towards the end of the winter because we weren't able to work and his farrier was very concerned by his feet, but their quality and lack of heels.

Two weeks after the shoes came off, the weather finally changed. We worked back to up to normal training. We started out tip toeing around in the arena and worked up to trotting and cantering and hacking out. Cuna needed his shoes back on to prevent further deterioration of his feet.

My valentine <3

In February (Valentine's Day), we started back riding in the hills. Cuna and I would trailer out once a week with a friend. She was conditioning to run some cool eventing tracks, but we started out walking. Cuna is a pretty fit horse to begin with, and getting more fit has never been an issue for him. We matched the younger horse stride for stride, in the arena and in the hills.


All seemed well. He was a little stiff, but since having his hocks done is a significant investment, I was holding off a bit and compensating by not asking him to do any hardcore dressage and really use his hocks.

And then in March we went out in the hills and he tied up. I've read through the literature, talked to people who had horses tie up, and gone over everything about Cuna's care. He had none of the risk factors and was on a great diet.

Several people have suggested that he simply wasn't fit enough to do the job. To that I say these things:

1) He was fully as fit as his friend, who had no problems whatsoever.

2) The tying up episode started almost as soon as we picked up the trot. I didn't know what it was at the time, or I would have pulled up immediately. He kept going forward through the whole thing, but he was nearly crippled at the end. His heart was in it, his body couldn't take it.

It's also been suggested that the "spring weather" contributed. To that theory I say:

1) Bullshit. If 50f is the magic temperature at which horses tie up, we would see a lot more problems.

2) I have ridden this horse in all terrain and all temperatures from 15f to 105f and he'd never presented any sort of problem before. I have talked to everyone who's owned him post-track, and it had never happened before.

So. There's that. Yeah, maybe a one-off situation, definitely weird, no definable cause. I didn't run blood because I was abysmally broke at the time and he recovered ok, albeit slowly.

In April, we moved forward again. We started slowly back into work. I wasn't able to take him in to the hills very much--obviously, I didn't want to throw him back in with the younger, faster horse who hadn't tied up and no one else was regular enough to make a huge fitness difference. We did lots of long slow hacks on the shoulders of the roads around the barn. After I got his hocks done, we stepped up our dressage. We weren't jumping a ton because our instructor was busy with other projects.

Cuna persisted in being a little on/off lame. It was slight and usually went away with a little rest. He was lame before our jumping clinic, but some bodywork helped.

He was lame before our dressage show, but again, it was subtle and a few days off made all the difference.

Wrapped, drugged, and uncomfortable on soft sand

Enter May. I gave him two days off after the dressage show, and then he was unsound. The farrier came out for a pre-scheduled appointment at which Cuna presented as sound. We made a slight shoeing change that we had discussed before.

Cuna felt better for a day, then worse. His only work had been a 20 minute walking hack on flat ground.

I had him checked over by another farrier, who called him unsound in both front feet.

And it spiraled down from there.

By the time we went to the vet, Cuna wouldn't leave his stall to drink or eat his grain. He was in agony, constantly. It can be argued that it came on quickly, but he'd been on and off for over a month at this point. His diet hadn't changed. He wasn't on grass. His legs were cold and tight.

His retirement photos

The vet diagnosed him with "lots of soft tissue inflammation in his feet" and later referred to it as a "laminitic episode". We x-rayed and put him in $$$ shoes, but there wasn't much point in doing more. The xrays showed no rotation, but Cuna couldn't walk. Cuna left the vet slightly less miserable than he arrived. 

He came back, even more slowly this time. We had to give him IV bute because he was too miserable to eat his grain. At the end of three weeks, he was still off. At 8 weeks post vet, he looked sound at the walk and trot.

My show friends were asking when we'd be back in the ring. My instructor proposed tentative plans to bring him back into work gradually.

And I made the call.

Cuna moved to his field to take the rest of the summer off. And now the rest of the year off. Probably more--my farrier says it will be at least a year for his feet to recover.

Once I turned Cuna out, his demeanor changed. He's less grumpy and more interested in life. His soundness hasn't changed--he was on/off all summer in various degrees. I am in consultation with a vet and we will explore options for him at an appropriate time.

That's the timeline. That's the information I have.

I know it's not the decision that everyone would have made in my situation. I don't know that it was the best possible decision. What I do know is that something wasn't working for Cuna. Mysterious and odd things happen to horses all the time, but when those incidents are getting more severe and closer together, I know I have to question what I'm asking them to do.

The bravest horse

At this point, I don't believe that Cuna will come back to work in a substantive way. He'll be 19 in January. He isn't an ideally conformed horse, and dressage does not come naturally to him. I don't think it's right to just keep pounding his feet and body into the ground when he's in this shape.

He is still my favorite horse. I can't explain my connection to him. I would be over the moon if he came back to be sound enough to trail ride again, but at this point, I'm not pushing him. Courage came into my life for a reason. I think that reason is to let Cuna have the well deserved rest that his body craves.

It's heart-breaking. If I think about it for too long, I cry. It isn't what I wanted, isn't what he wanted, but it is the reality that we both have to live with. Yes, older horses than Cuna go out and compete and do just fine. I think that's great. I wish he was one of those horses, but everything I see is telling me that he isn't. His body can't take it, even though his heart is in it.

So there you go. That's my understanding of the situation and the rationale behind the decisions I made.

Can't Forget Cuna

The handsomest horse

I haven't said anything about Cuna lately. I'm letting him have a break, physically and mentally. I needed it emotionally almost as much. I adore that old red man and he made me into the rider I am today. It was beyond gut wrenching to watch him come through his last round of lameness and I'm in no rush to try it again.

Here's the thing. He came to me for a specific reason and he more than accomplished that. I wanted him to carry on and be a fancy show horse, and he's letting me know that as much as his heart is in it, his body won't hold up to it. 

He was "sound" after a solid month of rehab. Sound until he wasn't. Sound until he was tired, and then he limped again. 

The vet told me that there was no benefit to making him limp. It's not something he's going to work through. It's something that requires healing. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Sometimes longer. Sometimes shorter. 

Cuna, then Jake, then Wiley

So Cuna moved to his new home--a giant pasture he shares with a couple of nice geldings. We pulled his shoes as per his farrier's advice and took away his grain. The old man hangs out and enjoys life. He has the other ladies at the barn wrapped around his goofy hooves and they love him. I visit him four or five days a week. I tell him about Courage and life at the track (as if he didn't know!) and I groom him, pick his feet, and scratch his itchy spots. 

I look back at the pictures of our time together, and it makes me cry a little. I can still feel him taking me to the jumps, his red ears locked on with perfect focus. I feel the confidence and security that he taught me, and I know my life won't be the same now that he's been here. 

My show friends keep asking when he's coming back. I tell them the same thing every time. He's taking a vacation. Maybe we'll hack around this fall. Then he's taking the winter off. 

And that's it. I'm not making plans for him. I love him. He gave me more that I could have hoped for and I have no right to ask for something beyond that. Maybe I'll find another field for him that backs up to trails and he and I can explore the mountains like we used to. No more collection. No more drilling. That's my favorite dream. We'd both love it. 

So we're healing together. At our own pace. And it's ok. 

Tough Questions

While Cuna spends his time recovering, I have plenty of time to think. I keep running back over this year. It's been a horrible year for him. I wonder what I would have changed to make it better, and the answer is always the same.

There's nothing I could have done for him.

That bothers me. All of us hate to see our beloved creatures hurt. To see the extent of what Cuna has gone through this year in the course of just being a normal horse, I have to question what I'm asking him to do.





Everything I've asked of him, he's done before. His care has been excellent, start to finish. He's always tried his heart out for me, whether it was a dressage lesson or keeping up with a horse a third his age while he tied up in the hills.

I'm at the point of wondering when enough is enough. I have watched my beloved Cuna Matata be crippled to the point of not walking not once, but twice, both times for no apparent cause.

Maybe I'm overreacting to unrelated incidents because I have too much time on my hands. Or maybe, Cuna's trying to tell me something. He came into my life when I needed him most, and changed me into the rider that I am today. For the first time in years, I came out this spring and was relaxed and confident on horseback. All the credit goes to him on that score.

In a meta sense, it feels like he came to me for that very reason. He carried me through things I thought I would never overcome, and now he's telling me that he needs to rest. I don't want to emotionally overreact, but I also want to listen to him.

In light of my post the other day about clarity in decisions regarding the vet, I guess I wanted to go a step further. How do you know when it's time to let a horse retire? If you haven't retired one yet, what signs do you think you'd be looking for? What does equine retirement mean to you?