Huck, our mascot.

It's been about a year now since we waved Huck off to pastures new.  I can't say that this is s a major "success" story at all, because he still isn't 100% right and he probably never will be, sadly.  But he is getting along wonderfully well in his new home and that is success enough. 

We saved this guy from dying a miserable death, either out in a cold, muddy field with absolutely nobody to care what happened to him, or in transit to an auction where he'd be worth whatever he weighed, if he even made it to the sales ring alive.

This was the horse that changed everything around here, and got us into gear.

Huck is a very special little Arabian horse who came to live with us in 2010.  He had not been fed anything worth eating over the course of about a year, and had been living on dirt and fresh air, from what we could tell.  He had been bullied, to the point of starvation, by other horses that were also constantly hungry.  They were out in a bleak, bare "pasture" without any intervention by the owner.  I was advised that he managed to graciously throw in a single flake of hay (between four horses) here and there, whenever he remembered to, but more often there were the times he forgot he had horses to take care of, clearly.  Through the rain and snow, he went from bad to worse over the winter.  To add insult to injury, he was being ridden regularly and receiving nothing in return.  He was being saddled up daily, worked until he bled, literally, and then turned out again on dirt with nothing to eat and no fresh water available.  On the rare occasion a little hay did arrive, he wasn't allowed to get any and so it went on for him for far too long.

When I first went to see him he had open, bleeding welts which had been caused by badly fitting tack, and wherever there were pressure points in the saddle area and around his girth there was a wound that hadn't been attended to.  It was truly pitiful.  There was simply no flesh on him to protect his back and ribs at all, and I was incredulous when the owner insisted that I ride him around and "try him out".  I declined his kind offer, utterly bemused at the ignorance of the man, to which he laughed and told me that I didn't need to be afraid to ride the horse!  Actually, I wanted to say that I was afraid that he might die underneath me if I were to get on, but I bit my tongue and instead we talked money.  Huck certainly was not a creature to fear by any means... He was almost comatose, with resignation in his eyes and he was a very, very sad picture to behold.  He needed us to take him out of that situation so badly, and begged us in ways we can't ever fully comprehend.  And so we purchased him (yes, unbelievably, the owner expected quite a lot of money for him!) and we brought him home with us.  He absolutely couldn't stay where he was for a moment longer, and nobody would have paid a cent for him in the condition he was in if we didn't buy him.  He was heading for the meat market, but I'm not sure he would have lasted long enough to get there.

The poor guy had so many issues when he arrived here, both physical and psychological, that we were at a total loss as to how best to deal with him to begin with... Where could we start!  Our vet was puzzled, as was an expert natural horse trainer friend of ours, who worked with him for months after he came home with us.  They helped tremendously on his road to recovery (we couldn't have helped him without the additional support at all) and, between us, we were resolved to help him learn to be a horse again.  Although we had around 100 years combined experience, none of us had never dealt with a horse quite like Huck before.  We could only conclude that he must be suffering from some form of equine PTSD (it does exist!) and, essentially, we had to treat him as any major trauma survivor would be treated... Slowly and carefully, one day at a time, taking tiny steps towards improvement as and when we could get him to cooperate.  Some days he would be very laid back and we would feel we were making great progress, and then on other days he would just be plain nuts and off somewhere else, far away, in his head.  There wasn't a great deal of ground covered fast due to the inconsistency in his outlook.  He seemed to think he was about to be killed, no matter how gentle or persuasive we were.  He would often just freeze up, unable to move a muscle, thinking it was the end.  At other times he'd turn himself inside out trying to escape a heavy handed punishment that wasn't coming his way any longer, of course.  The first time he met our farrier, Chad, it was pretty "lively" to say the least!  Chad suggested we call him Skeletor, as we hadn't decided on his name yet and he really was nothing but skin and bone at that point.  "Thanks for the suggestion Chad, but that's not quite right for him... "  We went with Huck in the end, and it suits him perfectly now.

Besides his general erraticism and craziness, the most challenging of his "problems" to manage, on a practical level, was that he couldn't be turned out with other horses.  He was absolutely petrified of them, would panic whenever we put him out into the pasture and take off, in full flight, through electric fences as if they weren't there!  It is a pretty tough job convincing any horse that they're safe, even under normal circumstances, but Huck was almost impossible and, even now, I doubt he will ever feel totally secure.  He couldn't believe that things were so very different around here.  Our horses get fed accurately, so they don't feel the need to try to kill other horses because they're half starved themselves.  Everyone gets exactly what they need and they are balanced, well-mannered equines, unlike his hungry pasturemates where he came from, where they were fending for themselves, virtually unattended, year 'round.  It took such a long time for Huck to settle in and feel confident enough to eat properly.  He'd lived in constant fear of being chased off food for so long, and it had to be offered to him in the only place he felt safe.  In the round pen (which was his safety zone).  Separate and alone.

The sorry photo (before) of him is actually quite a happy one in fact.  It was taken as he was enjoying his first proper bucket of grub for years when he first arrived!   He got to be pretty talkative at feeding time, once he'd learned the routine here, chatting away excitedly and asking us to hurry up with his breaskfast.  It was monumental to hear him whinny for the first time, as we came out of the house to do the feeds one morning.  It was such a joyful sound, it made me cry with relief.  It was the first "normal" horse trait that he's displayed up to that point.

But just look at him now!  The second photo (after) is the new, improved Huck, just a year down the line.  He is a different horse these days, in every respect, and has been successfully integrated into a small herd of other rescued Arabian horses with similar stories to tell.  Although he is still a loner, and not entirely sure he's going to be safe in every situation, he is a very happy and healthy horse now.  We hear that he has even got himself a girlfriend these days, and she is the spitting image of him! 

Huck appears to have learned how to be a horse again. finally, and that was what we set out to try to teach him.  We really want to say another huge thank you, a year after we began, especially to Guy Sears (for his careful and considerate transport) Tara Maxwell (for her incredibly gentle training methods) Vincent Smith DVM (for being on call for us always) and Dennis Horion (Adopt-A-Horse Inc.) who, along with us here at Camp Esco, formed "Team Huck" to help him heal.

Hazel and Ada and their tales of barbed-wire fencing and bullets...

To start with, it's probably a good idea to introduce you to the horses.  There are currently three horses at home with us right now, and we have two more at a friends place close by.  Two of the horses that live here are the usual suspects... Our own horses Coal Miner and Zella.  But just last week we took in a third, a battered looking old timer called Hazel, to live with us permanently.

We can only guess that Hazel must have got tangled up in a barbed-wire fence at some point when she was younger as she looks like a "Frankenhorse" with deep, criss-crossy black scars all over her that never healed properly.  She doesn't appear to have received any kind of attention at the time and the worst cuts, across her face and very close to both eyes, would definitely have required immediate expert handywork and refined patchwork skills in order for them to heal nice and neatly.  As she is, she is beautiful still, just a bit sorry looking.  Her scars made me wince the first time I met her, even though I have plenty enough scars of my own!  Despite her wild youth, Hazel is the sweetest old lady these days and so terribly polite in every way.  She hasn't put a hoof wrong since she arrived and even when she had to have her vaccinations, when she got here, she behaved perfectly.  

Horses and barbed-wire make for a very expensive combination.  As cheap as it is, initially, to install barbed-wire fencing, veterinary bills are sure to pile up high when it's used for containing horses!  Barbed wire was designed for cattle on huge ranges, not for horses in restricted pastures.  Cows generally move very slowly and deliberately, if they move much at all, but horses travel at speed in panic and in play, and they have pretty poor eyesight and depth perception at the best of times.  When a horse runs into a fence, it will jerk and thrash around and fight to get free, rather than calmly wait for help to arrive.  Obviously that makes already severe injuries far worse and it's not a pretty sight at all... Think Paul Newman, in the motorcycle scene at the end of "The Great Escape" only better looking!

Hazel came to us with her 4 year old daughter, Ada, who is being backed and trained right now, having had very little by way of an education to date.  Ada had been shot in her previous pasture, and arrived with a seeping hole in her shoulder.  Thankfully, a good check over, some penicillin and a safe haven is all she needed and she is doing just fine now.  She will end up being a very useful horse with a proper job someday, rather than just a feisty pasture ornament with a pissy attitude, which is what she was fast becoming in the absence of experienced handling and management.  She's a very well-bred little girl, with many champions behind her, so we will just have to wait and see what she is best at, once she has her basic training and can concentrate for longer than fifteen minutes at a time.  Once we know what she enjoys doing most we can point her in that direction and rehome her appropriately.  She is bred well and super smart, just like her mother, and we don't think it will be difficult to match her with someone who will take her onto greater things and make the most of her athletic abilities.

Hazel will see out the rest of her days here with us, doing very little at all except being a happy, healthy horse in semi-retirement.  She will occasionally be expected to potter around in the woods at a leisurely pace with guests or our wonderful next door neighbour, Jackie, perched atop.  I have a feeling Hazel is going to be lavished with love and attention (and spoiled rotten by Jackie) for the rest of her life, which is exactly what she deserves!  Jackie takes care of everything here when we are away and does a truly amazing job of keeping everyone fed, watered and entertained in our absence.  She lost her own horse (at 28 years old!) last year and has since given over use of her land to us.  Her old girl Blossom, is buried under a tree out in the front pasture, and a large compacted bump of red clay still remains.  She was a very gentle and sweet old soul, from a less than ideal background herself, so it's apt that the grass should grow tall around her and her old pasture be a home to others like her.  I am convinced she must be keeping a very close watch over the waifs and strays out there and letting them know that they're safe here.  Everyone is munching away outside, quietly contented, and all is as it should be for them.

Here goes nothing...

So, the time has finally come for us to put down our guitars and get something up and running to keep all the lovely people who have made donations to our Camp Esco Horse Rescue fund so far up to date on how it's going and let everyone know what we are up to out here.

We thought it would be pretty easy, setting up a blog, but it's been a long afternoon/evening of misery and frustration this end, struggling to achieve something that's fit for public consumption (having gone back to the beginning many times over) and simply trying to make it look presentable somehow.  We gave up, totally baffled as to how to get it to look any good, and settled on this.  

This is a test run.  Let's see what happens if we press thi......