Thursday, July 14, 2011

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.

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