Injuries

In sports, you hear the phrases "playing hurt" versus "playing injured." One can manage to suck it up, apparently, if you are hurt, and continue on. However, if you are actually injured, you either are not suiting up to play at all, or you are possibly getting carried off on a stretcher.


Being hurt and continuing to play the game seems to endow some sense of toughness, courage and potential hero-ness on the athlete. Getting injured, however, seems to just be an unfortunate accident (however intentional or unintentional) that leaves no chance for heroics or proving toughness. You just have to (hopefully) heal and wait it out. Sit on the sidelines. Watch other people play. Hope your career isn't over.


Horses, being the magnificent athletes that they are, have a magnificent propensity for getting hurt. And, unfortunately, that sometimes extends to being injured. For a creature whose every fiber is geared toward survival, they have an amazing ability to throw caution to the winds and find themselves stuck in a fence, fallen into a hole, gouged open from stem to stern by a horse-eating fence post, chewed up and kicked the crap out of by their buddies in playtime...in short, they get a lot of injuries. They are afraid of everything, except, apparently, that which will actually harm them.


That all makes veterinarians happy, but maybe not in the middle of January at 3 a.m. on a Sunday. Going out to some pasture in the cold and the dark can only be so much fun. I'm sure they all have a lot of stories that would border on the unbelievable.


Vet bills are a fact of life if you own a horse. Better budget it in because you will need one to call at some point, just like you need hay for them to eat and that hay will get pooped out as manure. Consider yourself blessed if you are able to patch up any cuts and do without professional services. Also consider yourself blessed if your beloved 4-legged lives a long, happy, relatively injury-free life. That's true for all our animal companions, of course. I think it is one of the cruelest of ironies that most often we are forced to outlive our animal friends.

Grief for our animal friends is unlike any other kind of grief, I believe. I can uncontrollably burst into tears at the sight of a dead cat on the side of the road, while remaining fairly stoic about yet another murder that takes place. Do we pour our hearts out for these animals because they rely so much on our kindness, our good will, our sense of responsibility? Is it that I feel so much grief because I feel they were let down and/or betrayed by humans who so carelessly took their life?

If I feel so sad and horrible for the death of an anonymous animal, obviously the death of one's own friend is sooooo much worse. All of the human emotions are present: guilt, doubt, regret, loss, sorrow. Does this grief reinforce our humanity? Are they helping us to be better humans?

So, when injuries come along, there's a whole lot of emotion that goes with it. Unfortunately, as in the case of human injury, one of the first questions is "Can I afford it? How much treatment can I buy?" As is also true of the human world, the more you can pay the more treatment is available. Anything that can be done to humans by and large can be done to animals, if you are willing and able to pay for it.

Of course, the animal doesn't have any voice in this. Sending your horse, or dog or cat or gerbil to animal heaven is often the kindest, sanest choice to be made. Too bad that's not an option with humans.

A couple of years ago Autumn managed to get a huge (I thought so, anyway) laceration of her lower eyelid. It required a vet call, emergency stitches, loads of medications and lots of anxiety. Not to mention money. That would have been fine if it had proceeded the way it should: heal up, stitches removed, happy horse/happy owner. Go riding.

Alas, things often do not progress the way we want. Long story short: screw-ups. Not mine. What should have taken maybe 2 weeks to recover from, ended up being over 2 months, closer to 3. One month of that was spent with her at the vet clinic. Horrible. Possible loss of eye or vision. Thinking I might have a half-blind horse. Well-intentioned people saying "Oh, there are lots of horses with only one eye." This was supposed to be comforting??!!

The relatively good news is I still have a horse with 2 eyes, albeit one of them has 2 scars on her cornea that was a result of the vet care. Yes, mistakes happen. I am mostly angry with myself that I wasn't more assertive and demanding and a big pain in the butt about what was happening. Lesson learned. I hope. But I'm still angry.

Yes, we all play hurt or even injured sometimes. Sticks and stones do break bones, but words and actions break hearts and spirits. We carry on as if we were not hurt. We pretend that there are no injuries. The physical ones are apparent, but we learn to hide the others. We do not wish to appear vulnerable, lest we get hurt again.

One of the hardest things about this whole horse riding thing is we cannot fake it. Horses can be amazingly kind when they know you are trying to pretend you are not afraid, or sad, or angry. But they can also call your bluff and say "Sister, I ain't buying it. Go ahead and feel what you feel -- just don't pretend you aren't feeling it." Hence, the therapy aspect. We must own our feelings in a genuine way and work with it.

I admire Tim Gunn, the fashion consultant with the maxim of Make it Work. He means making the most of the situation and somehow bringing it together to get good results. This should be applied to all aspects of life and I find it particularly apt with horses.

Being hurt and/or injured requires truthfulness. Deal with the situation, honestly feel what you feel, and move on. Let go of what does not serve the situation or you. Do not let the injury scar you for life.

And don't run into fences or fall into holes!