Then I would ride.
March 1986, & I was reading a magazine while hanging out at the Malibu Endurance Ride ridecamp. An article caught my attention. It was the first of a three part series about Len Brown's long distance, multi-state journey on horseback. Len went into detail on all the saddle fit & sore back issues that he encountered with his horses, as well as the fixes he did to make his horses comfortable. At the end of his journey he decided to create & build saddles that would FIT!
The next morning I set off on my 50 mile journey through the beautiful hills of Malibu, CA. At the lunch stop I had to ice my horse's back to keep it from swelling. I'd been having ill fitting saddle issues for all of the 1985 season, & now into 1986. I'd even had two saddles custom made to no avail. They sored Wraff's back, creating pressure points that would swell. By the Malibu ride Wraff had white spots behind his withers, & even a balding spot. The best remedy I'd found was to cut holes in a foam pad so the saddle couldn't sit down on those now sensitive spots. It was only a band-aid & I knew I had to find a saddle that fit, or get a new horse. I was pretty discouraged with Wraff's sore back at the end of Malibu. It was then I made the decision to call & talk to Len Brown.
When I called Len that following Monday, & told him what I'd gone through with ill fitting saddles & sore backs, he promised me he could fit my horse. That very day I sent the deposit so Len would begin making me a Brown's saddle, better known today as the Ortho-Flex Traditional. My saddle arrived on Friday as I was leaving for the Tar Springs ride in June. When I opened the box I was shocked. After riding in a Steubben or a Stonewall, my new Brown's saddle looked huge. How was I ever going to ride in it?
The next day I rode in that saddle for the very first time, finishing 50 miles WITHOUT Wraff having a sore or swollen back. The successful result that day was amazing. On July 19, 1986 I rode Tevis &, after 100 miles, Wraff's back looked & felt great. I was in LOVE with my Brown's saddle.
Over the years I'd bought a few used Ortho-Flex saddles. The ones that had originally had horns all seemed to be on the narrow side & didn't fit as well as my original saddle. Those were quickly sold. There were other models & I tried a couple of those with no luck. I bought a 1987 Traditional from a friend, who later decided she wanted her saddle back. It was a good deal for me because I traded her for a hotwalker. In 2012 I bought a refurbished Ortho-Flex Traditional. Its panels had been shortened & when a friend borrowed it because her saddle didn't fit her horse, I lost my #2 saddle. In 2013 I was lucky enough to find another original Ortho-Flex Traditional & didn't hesitate buying it. Len Brown had lost the original company & the new Ortho-Flex Co was nowhere near as good as Len's saddles. They were imitations. Not only that, the Traditional became a discontinued model. While I had two of these wonderful saddles, I really wanted a 3rd. It would be convenient for me to have a saddle for all 3 of my riding horses, each set up with booties (attached saddle pads) for an individual horse.
Two days ago someone posted on an Endurance Facebook page that there was an older Ortho-Flex for sale in Old Town Auburn. Yesterday my friend, CCR, sent me a message asking if I'd seen the post. Yes, I'd seen it but it was 65 miles away & I had a full schedule. I did call to see if it was in fact an original Traditional. It's number told me it was. I thought about that saddle all night (it must have been calling my name) & today when I went to drop my hoof nippers off for sharpening, I decided to just drive on up to Auburn.
For 28 years my saddle has fit every horse I've ridden. It's been a wonder saddle. And now I have THREE!
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Friday, April 11, 2014
The Saved Foals
A wandering mind isn't always a good thing. Random thoughts can lead down into the dark at times. Guess I haven't been busy enough today because my mind has been wandering.
Twelve years ago I had jury duty in a murder trial. The defendant changed his plea to guilty so we got out of the courtroom room early. Not long after I got home that afternoon, a pregnant mare belonging to a friend went into labor. She presented with a red-bag delivery, meaning the placenta was coming out ahead of the foal. A RED ALERT situation. I managed to get the placenta torn open with my hands (it's amazing how tough a horse's placenta is), & the colt delivered. The colt wasn't breathing so I thumped his ribcage trying to jolt him into breathing. When that didn't work I held his mouth shut, closed off a nostril, & breathed air into his other nostril. I don't even know how many times I breathed into that little nostril, but finally he coughed & breathed. Lack of oxygen caused a few days of a "dummy" foal & he had to be bottle fed for a while, but Little John thrived & was a cute colt. My friend was quite pleased with his new colt & had plans for his future as a nice trail horse.
Eleven years ago in March, we had a severe thunder & lightening storm. I went out into the night to make sure the horses were safe & not panicking. The nine yearlings were huddled together & none seemed too alarmed by the storm. The adults were all fine as well, so back I went back to bed. I left for work before daylight the next morning but did take a quick headcount, as I do every day. When I got home from work, my friend was already at the ranch. He was in a panic & I just knew something was really wrong. All he could say was "Little John". I could see Little John standing 3/4 of the way up the pasture so was a bit puzzled. As I walked up the hill I could see that he was standing odd & not moving. I sent my friend to call the vet because I knew Little John had a broken leg.
Sometime during the night, after I'd checked on the horses, the yearlings had panicked & run through a fence. I could see that two of the yearlings had scratches on their chests so surmised they'd been the first through the fence, knocking it down as the others followed. Somewhere in the herd of frightened yearlings was Little John. When he went over the fence a hind leg had to have gone through the wire. The force of his forward movement stripped that top wire loose from the rest of the wire by 20-30'. The "yank" of the wire had to have caused the break at the top of Little John's femur. There was no saving the well loved gelding.
In the aftermath of that tragic day, my friend & I wondered if Little John should have been lost on the day of his birth. It felt like maybe I wasn't supposed to have been home to save him, if that makes any since. I was supposed to have been on jury duty for a couple of weeks. I shouldn't have been home early the day he was born. Maybe I wasn't supposed to have saved him & that's why he, of all the yearlings, was the only one injured so tragically. Was his loss as a yearling the balancing of his being saved at birth? When we go to such lengths to save a foal that would have been lost had no one been home, are we upsetting a natural balance? Have we changed the course of a fate that needs to be rectified by their untimely, young loss?
As I reflect on Little John today, I'm wondering if going to extreme lengths to save a foal who wouldn't have survived without intervention, is only delaying the inevitable. Are the saved foals destined to break our hearts when we lose them all too young? More of our hearts go into the saved foals so more of our hearts are broken when we lose them. Maybe there's a tragedy in the euphoria felt when a foal survives against the odds. While I don't regret my saved foals (I would do it again without hesitation), & I love them more than I can say, my heart breaks at the thought of losing them all too young because maybe, just maybe, the balance needs to be righted.
My heart is breaking.
Twelve years ago I had jury duty in a murder trial. The defendant changed his plea to guilty so we got out of the courtroom room early. Not long after I got home that afternoon, a pregnant mare belonging to a friend went into labor. She presented with a red-bag delivery, meaning the placenta was coming out ahead of the foal. A RED ALERT situation. I managed to get the placenta torn open with my hands (it's amazing how tough a horse's placenta is), & the colt delivered. The colt wasn't breathing so I thumped his ribcage trying to jolt him into breathing. When that didn't work I held his mouth shut, closed off a nostril, & breathed air into his other nostril. I don't even know how many times I breathed into that little nostril, but finally he coughed & breathed. Lack of oxygen caused a few days of a "dummy" foal & he had to be bottle fed for a while, but Little John thrived & was a cute colt. My friend was quite pleased with his new colt & had plans for his future as a nice trail horse.
Eleven years ago in March, we had a severe thunder & lightening storm. I went out into the night to make sure the horses were safe & not panicking. The nine yearlings were huddled together & none seemed too alarmed by the storm. The adults were all fine as well, so back I went back to bed. I left for work before daylight the next morning but did take a quick headcount, as I do every day. When I got home from work, my friend was already at the ranch. He was in a panic & I just knew something was really wrong. All he could say was "Little John". I could see Little John standing 3/4 of the way up the pasture so was a bit puzzled. As I walked up the hill I could see that he was standing odd & not moving. I sent my friend to call the vet because I knew Little John had a broken leg.
Sometime during the night, after I'd checked on the horses, the yearlings had panicked & run through a fence. I could see that two of the yearlings had scratches on their chests so surmised they'd been the first through the fence, knocking it down as the others followed. Somewhere in the herd of frightened yearlings was Little John. When he went over the fence a hind leg had to have gone through the wire. The force of his forward movement stripped that top wire loose from the rest of the wire by 20-30'. The "yank" of the wire had to have caused the break at the top of Little John's femur. There was no saving the well loved gelding.
In the aftermath of that tragic day, my friend & I wondered if Little John should have been lost on the day of his birth. It felt like maybe I wasn't supposed to have been home to save him, if that makes any since. I was supposed to have been on jury duty for a couple of weeks. I shouldn't have been home early the day he was born. Maybe I wasn't supposed to have saved him & that's why he, of all the yearlings, was the only one injured so tragically. Was his loss as a yearling the balancing of his being saved at birth? When we go to such lengths to save a foal that would have been lost had no one been home, are we upsetting a natural balance? Have we changed the course of a fate that needs to be rectified by their untimely, young loss?
As I reflect on Little John today, I'm wondering if going to extreme lengths to save a foal who wouldn't have survived without intervention, is only delaying the inevitable. Are the saved foals destined to break our hearts when we lose them all too young? More of our hearts go into the saved foals so more of our hearts are broken when we lose them. Maybe there's a tragedy in the euphoria felt when a foal survives against the odds. While I don't regret my saved foals (I would do it again without hesitation), & I love them more than I can say, my heart breaks at the thought of losing them all too young because maybe, just maybe, the balance needs to be righted.
My heart is breaking.
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