Dark nights

It's November now, and the nights are drawing in. It is confirmation that winter is coming, and with that, comes arguably all the not-so-nice parts of horse ownership. For a start, comes the general cold and dark; that moment when you're looking out of the window of the nice warm car, putting off getting out. For me, I'm always fine as long as I'm wrapped up. It's the dark I don't like. And that's because I'm scared.
As well as the cold and dark, winter brings with it ice and snow, and all the difficulties associated with them. Getting stuck in the car, putting your foot through ice in the water buckets and pulling out the chunks, slipping on the ice, and (of course), mud. I am not yet lucky enough to own a 4x4, so winter is always slightly dreaded to me. I love snow, as long as I  know my horse is fine; otherwise, it becomes my enemy.

A few weeks ago, Hillary had another accident. I noticed that she wasn't opening her eye properly as I approached her in the field, and when I continued to look, and she was continuing to struggle, I began to feel concerned. A call to my vet (about eight minutes into the out of hours emergency-more expensive line) confirmed that Hills needed to be seen.
The vet came and my first thought was how young he looked. Age never occurs to me (I'm 27 next) until I see someone who looks about twelve driving a car. Despite his seeming lack of years, he was very thorough and informative. Hills had either hit herself/been hit in the eye. A week off riding, pain killers, and an eye gel twice a day. I'd be lying if I said I was anything less than totally fed up.

A week later and she was fine. We were back riding and she was off box-rest. We're getting really good at the hacking now, and Hillary is even managing to go through deep puddles- something she's never done! The other week, we saw a pair of Roe deer on our hack; we stared at them and them at us, before they sprung off into the bushes, spooking the horses.

Our schooling is coming along too- we now have a new instructor who is helping us rediscover our balance, and will help us move towards going back to thinking about dressage, and Hills is getting used to being schooled in the dark under the orange glow of the menage lights. I am once again enjoying...loving the riding, and I feel very excited about the future.

After one rollercoaster of a 2012, bring on 2013- I'm ready.  

Headaches and Highlights

It's been a while since my last post, and a lot has happened. Firstly, Hillary sustained another injury.

It was Sunday morning, and I went to go and turn Hillary out in the field. I approached her stable, and noticed that a part of her forelock looked wet. I didn't think much of it; it had been a little wet in the night, and I assumed she'd had her head out of the door. As I got closer, I realised that the 'wet' in her hair was red, and that there was a few red droplets on her face. Again, I didn't panic- maybe, the flies had bitten her and drawn blood. But the appearance of blood made me decide to check her thoroughly. I tried to move her forelock away, and as she resisted, I saw a cut, and below it, a hole.

My knees buckled, and I immediately felt weak and sick. It was a split second, but I was sure it was a hole. I ran down the yard and found someone. Then I rang the vet.



Hillary was sedated, and the hole (which can be seen in the above picture ) was cleaned out. It was possible that underneath the huge swelling, there would be a fracture in the skull. I felt so sick. I stayed all day, and began my attempt to clean and put gel on the wound, which would become a routine for the next two weeks.

The vet came two days later, and suggested that there may still be a fracture. It was like a nightmare. Back on painkillers, Hillary still didnt like being touched on her head. It was a difficult task trying to get the prescribed gel on, but eventually, she gave in.

I then went on holiday- my first real holiday in nine years, and my first plane flight. To be honest, I didn't think I'd go away with Hillary being ill, but her head began to heal well, and she was able to go out.

Prior to her head being injured, Hillary had become stressed, and felt uncomfortable when ridden. So, my holiday, had become a way for her to be a horse again, without any ridden work. I too, felt a relief to be able to have a few days away, and to be able to switch off (with daily updates on her general health, of course!)

When I got back, Hillary's head had become a closed up bald patch- the beginning of a scar.Whilst her head was healing well though, she still unfortunately felt very stressed. So I began to look for a calmer for her. In my opinion, she was struggling  with a new place,with her decreased sight. By putting her on a calmer, I hoped to take the edge off the worry and give her chance to chill.

I found epsom salts, and give her some for a few days. She finally began chill out (this is my opinion, knowing my horse, and doesn't in any way intend to publicise this product!).

Also at this time, I made a new friend, and with her horse recovering too, we decided to hack out together.

I have been on several hacks now, and with several different horses. Hillary has been amazing, even coping with a set of 8/9 stairs in the country park. She has followed quietly, and even led. She has proved that despite her ailing eyes, and her recovering leg, she is a trusting, trustworthy partner.

My confidence is growing non-stop and our bond is amazing. There is no-one in the world that even comes close to the way I feel for her. She is my best friend, and my everything.

Life is great.

A Fresh Start

So much has happened since my last post some two months ago; most notably, we have moved yards.
This move was not something I ever thought I'd do, I'd always been so happy where I was, but as with many things, change happens.

The new yard is closer to home, and Hillary will be able to have the longer turn out she now needs. It was a difficult decision to move, but I felt that it would suit Hillary more, and so I went, crossing my fingers all the way.

Hills has settled well, and is able to go out for longer periods of time. She has two little 12hh field companions, and within about five minutes, she had established herself as herd leader in charge of everyone else. Her stable looks out across the moors to one side, and the neighbouring towns to the other- she has amazing views!

She has had to get used to living where chickens run free though, and where tractors are at work; she isn't particularly bothered though, and it seems like she has been here ages.

Yesterday (24.7.12) the vet came to see her. They were meant to do yet another scan, however the machine is broken and so they had to cancel. So instead they came for a check up. Hills is now off all pain killers, on a feed balancer and glucosamine, going out for between two and four hours, and being ridden for twenty minutes a day as many days of the week as possible. She is looking well, and moving much better. The increased turn out means that she is moving more, and at her own pace which helps the tendon heal. This is something we hope to build up even more.

The vet has noted that for the first couple of trot strides, Hills is quite stiff, and therefore not sound, however, after these few strides, she is looking a lot better. This is great news and I feel so thrilled that she is very nearly sound once again. He then went on to say that in light of this, he recommends stalling with the cancelled scan, and having someone look at her again in six weeks. If she is still stiff then scan again, however, if she is sound, we may have done it, and the scan probably wont be necessary. This adds to the amazing news, and I feel so happy that finally, we may be able to canter and do some proper lessons. But more than that, I feel so happy that finally Hills is almost better, and back to her normal self. I can't wait to put this behind us.

Hills eyes have also been checked, and they are showing no progress since March. This is another brilliant piece of news. Finally, after 2012 seeming so challenging and 'unfair', I'm feeling things are picking up. I hope this continues and hope that after all our hurdles, we can finally get on with strengthening our bond, and enjoying life together.

Here's to new beginnings, fresh starts looking forward to new horizons x.

A Good Day

A very brief post here, inspired by the picture....

This is the image I see every day when I arrive at the farm, and it is without doubt the most happiest part of my day....

Hills spent twenty minutes in the menage today, eating her hay in the sunshine. She had the sun on her back as she munched, and I sat quietly watching her, happy that she was outside in the open. After a roll in the sand, she put in a couple of bucks, and had a little canter whilst throwing her head about with happiness and joy.

Better news yet, when I brought her back up to the yard, I left her ten minutes to chill whilst I did a couple of jobs. After those ten minutes there was only the slightest bit of heat in the leg. I keep having to pinch myself to let me believe we're on the up. Soon I'll be on her back and we'll canter happily together in our own world.....

Brighter Days.

It's now three months since the tendon injury. Hillary continues with her adequan injections every five days, and still, even at this point, is on pain killer even though the dose is low. There is no lameness that I can see, and her leg generally looks a lot better.

When she did go out, her leg became inflamed and red from the wet and cold mud. This meant another call to the vets (I don't know how to deal with anything like this), and after a coating of sudocrem, its now looking a lot calmer. However, to prevent this happening again, Hills hasn't been out in the field since. I am told I can turn her out in the menage, and I intend to do this; hence going through the nerve-wracking process of her going out all over again. 

I have also started riding now, at first for just ten minutes around the yard on our walking route. I won't lie and tell you my anxiety hasn't reared its ugly head, but I have not been anywhere near as severely affected. I have worries getting on, primarily because I have to juggle the less movement of my leg with the less movement of my torso due to wearing the body protector. Once I'm on though, and I've sat back, I feel fine.   I have very few moments of fear, and find that I am managing to control my breathing much better. 

Sunday came, and I had arranged to ride with my friend Kath who has been so helpful in getting me back in the saddle. I tacked up quickly and got on Hillary, waiting for Kath to join me. We set off quickly. The planned ride meant going off the farm and heading down the lane, and round a roundabout by the school. In total about twice the riding time that I've done since her accident. Two friends joined us with their horses, and we all rode single file down the lane, Hillary going second sandwiched between two others.

I found the whole ride very enjoyable. There were a few slightly scary moments, and as usual, I was ready for jumping off at the slightest second, but I kept reminding myself to sit back and breathe. Hillary behaved so well, excitable yet controllable, and when we got back, I felt incredible. Hillary, I could see, felt more relaxed too, and had even broken into a slight sweat. I was grinning from ear to ear. 

I intend to keep riding whenever possible to ensure that both Hillary and I can keep rebuilding our fitness and our ridden bond. I keep looking at Hillary's leg and feeling the temperature of it- after seemingly so many setbacks and rests, I can't quite believe that we are doing well. The vet says I should be riding back at some level of normality by August... please let that be the case :)

Ups and Downs

This week has been a real mix of emotions for me. To begin with, Hillary has been given the all clear to go out in a small field. This felt like a real milestone for me, and I was excited to let her out. She behaved impeccably as you can see from the picture; it seemed she was content enough to just stand in the fresh air and eat. However, the skin on the leg (which was shaved for the ultra sound scan) is very pink, and the mud seemed straight away to make it look red and angry. For this reason then, she hasn't been out in the field for fear of getting mud rash.
To add to this, the weather has not lent itself to me being able to ride, and I feel that rather than me rushing back into the saddle (which could tempt my anxiety to return), I'd rather wait until I feel secure. So we continued walking. The problem is though, that it's incredibly hard to feel secure when there is no one there by your side to help (for me, that is anyway.) I'd spent so much of last year recovering and becoming more and more confident, and although riding is something of a desperation at the moment, I do still get very anxious.

And so, with frustration over the weather, and Hillary's leg- keep as dry as possible-cold hose when hot?? and the desperation to ride, and also a tiring full week of work I have felt a whirl wind of emotions. Having never owned a horse before, its hard for me to know what to do. I try and think sensibly about things, but its   hard to know what I'm meant to do. I've no experience behind me, and even people around me say things that are different and that contradict each other. But most of the issues of this week have come from the feeling of dread, of feeling the anxiety come sneaking back. This time I recognise it, and the knowledge of it makes me feel terrible. My partner Ric tells me that I can get through it again should it ever get back to that, but it isn't as simple as that as it tested me so much. Not just the inability to ride and the associated guilt of that, but also the embarrassment of trying to explain to others the reasons why; the illogical but yet so controlling ideas. This all grew into a point where last night I cried from sheer frustration. I don't want to fail. I want to be positive and learning and improving like I was before the accident. As Ric would say, my moods depend very much on whether I'm riding, and though its not a conscious thing for me, I do feel like my world is right when I'm able to ride.

So, I decided today (5.5.12) would be the day to ride providing the weather was fine. I had the vet early this morning and so managed to get the farm jobs done before the vet arrived. The vet is impressed with the improvement in the shape of the leg as there is much less swelling. Also, he says that her weight, which is obviously a constant issue with me, is pretty much 'spot on'. She had her adequan injection (3/7) and behaved brilliantly. I went home to do some jobs, then back up early afternoon to ride.

Luckily Ric agreed to come with me. Normally he hates the farm and will avoid it where possible, but today he agreed to help me whilst I rode. I gave Hills a quick brush, and tacked up, making sure I tried to stay calm throughout. Finally, I got on, whilst Hills was held in place by my friend Cheryl. I tried not to think about the nerves; they were being over taken by excitement anyway, and after ten minutes of riding in walk, I didn't want to dismount. Ric walked with me, keeping at Hillary's head, and I talked to him constantly. I felt amazing- no anxiety, just a rush of brilliance knowing I was riding Hills again. Needless to say, she had the biggest apple I could find as a treat afterwards.

I feel refreshed in energy after today. Its easy to get bogged down with the negatives and the frustrations, but  its the moments, however fleeting, of positivity that turn it around. Yesterday I was in tears; tonight I'm smiling. I hope more than anything, that she continues to improve, and we can continue to ride.

So, here we are, it's nearly the end of April, what a time it's been. This is an update on Hillary's progress as the second scan (after the adequan injections) took place today.

As you may know, the original scan showed a few dark areas which were areas of damage. The adequan's job (injected every five days for a total of seven times) was to boost her recovery.

I was quietly excited about the results of the second scan; Hillary has been walking out great, and we have hardly experienced any heat in the leg at all. She is still on pain killers, but only a little bit per day, and after today this will be dropping again. Hills seems happy to be out, wanting to walk out and when on her walks, seems very interested in what's going on around her, especially the fact that lots of new grass is growing, ready to be nibbled. I know it's been said before, but I'm so proud of how she's coped with the whole thing. She truly is an amazing animal.

So, today. The vet came and watched her trot up to check for lameness. As the weather was awful (rain and high winds), it was no surprise that she was a little over excited, but she behaved well and the vet was able to assess her movement.

During a scan, the area to be scanned has to be clipped to allow adequate conduction for the ultra sound. Hillary, in some point in her life, must have had a bad experience with the clippers, and so for both scans, she has had to be sedated. It's an odd thing to watch, but knowing that the vet is on hand makes me feel better about it.

The scan showed that Hillary still has some damage, so much so that a second course of Adequan has been started. However, the tendon that has been repairing seems fine and the vet is pleased. The course of treatment is the same as before: an injection every five days for a total of 7 injections. However, this time, I've been told I can ride for twenty minutes at walk, and also she can go out in a small paddock. This news is brilliant; Hills will be able to be a horse again, and I'll be able to start re-building the ridden bond we had.

I can't deny that I'm frustrated- I just want her better. I have cried, I'll be honest. But the more important thing is that we're heading in the right direction, and in a small way, the hard work is paying off. I have to put the plans for 2012 into getting her right and making sure that she is happy. And I know that even if it was 90 weeks of walking in hand, I'd still do it without fail, for her.

Sometimes, we have it all and care nothing for it, but sometimes all we have is tomorrow, and it becomes tomorrow that matters. I know that as long as Hillary and I have tomorrow, everything else is a bonus.

Two months on...

Apologies for the vagueness of this picture- it is Hillary having the first roll in the field in seven weeks and two days! It therefore seemed appropriate, as it represents the small moment of happiness she has experienced in a huge amount of time.

It was decided that Hillary needed a medicinal boost, as it appeared her body wasn't producing the elements it needed to heal the damaged tendon. She therefore went on a course of  'adequan;' an injection every five days. Throughout the whole process I have thought myself so lucky to have such an accepting wonderful horse, and in this sense I have continued to be blown away by her impeccable behaviour and trust in humans.

She took every injection with merely a flinch, and on the fifth injection, it was suggested she could be turned out in the field for thirty minutes. I watched her every move in the field, and I almost cried with pure happiness after seeing how happy she was. After several rolls, she proceeded to throw herself around like a foal would; she was shaking too, not sure what to do after such a long time in.

After thirty minutes she came in; I checked the leg to find minimal swelling and no heat. I went home that evening elated, hoping that riding was a short distance away.

The next morning, there was heat in the leg.

The vet (who appears to recognise my voice now), suggested 24 hours box rest, followed by walking. I did as instructed. Utterly disappointed.

Hills has finally finished the course of injections, and we are having a scan in 12 days now. I am advised not to turn her out again; she could damage the new bits of tendon she is forming.

As for now though, I want to stress that even though 2012 was meant to be our year, what means more is making sure she is happy and healthy; after all that is what she deserves. This year, I WILL ensure that she gets better and fitter, and maybe 2012 will be special after all- I get to strengthen my bond with my best friend.

My Miracle

It's been three weeks after Hillary's accident, and for me, it's been incredibly stressful. I suppose many horse people are like me; when not riding they are just simply not happy. For me, riding Hillary is the most important thing in the world. It feels like complete freedom and happiness. If I could describe what it means to be truly happy, I would say 'being on the back of Hillary.' And so, not being able to ride is like a constant wave of being unhappy; just not happy.

Today, (29.02.12) Hills had her scan to see the damage to her leg. This involved the clipping of both her back  legs (which is why they look so odd in the above photo). I tried to have Hillary clipped once, but this ended in disaster; Hills cannot be clipped without sedation. When she cannot move back to get away from the clippers, she begins to rear. I have been told that before I bought her, she had been clipped, however, her fear is so severe, I have no intention of putting her through it. Our riding and work schedule before the accident was such that, after each ride, she would be cooled down properly before I went home. This omitted the need for clipping, and although I often look at other horses, neat and tidy in this season, and wish Hills was clipped, I know that in reality, it's such a stressful thing to do to her, that for me, it's just not worth it. We work round ensuring that she does not get too hot in her work, and that she always is cooled down properly. Clipping, therefore, something that has simply become an irrelevant point for me.

So when the vet got the clippers from his car, I knew she would have to be sedated.

I have seen one sedated horse, but the thought of Hillary being sedated was, I admit, quite scary. The sedation worked almost immediately; her head drooped and she began to breathe really heavily. Everything that she did: trembling, dribbling, wobbling- I mentioned to the vet. This is all normal, and all the time, I whispered to her, standing by her head, making sure she was OK.

The scanning equipment is a hugely expensive piece of portable equipment, and the vet was very informative when using it. It was fascinating to think that in some way, I have seen Hillary's tendons; I have seen the lines of her bones, and her ligaments; I have seen something I would never normally get chance to see.

Hillary does have some damage to her tendons, and needs another scan in four weeks time. However, the severity of her accident makes her survival and progress, nothing short of remarkable; she is indeed, something of a miracle. It is only after the second scan that I will find out if she can go in the field (something I feel very strongly about as Hillary really values her time being 'natural'), but I am able to ride now, at walk, for the next four weeks. The thought of riding her without lunging, and without her having been out for such a long time does make me feel worried, as I am still in many ways dealing with my problems, but I am determined to make this work. Despite the fear and worry, I am desperate to ride her again, and so I need to try and give it a go. But more than that, more than riding, or turn out, or injuries or problems, above all that we have been through in the last few weeks, I feel nothing short of brilliant. I still have my best friend, and I cannot believe that I am so lucky to be able to have her as my own.

Road to recovery Part 1

Hillary is beginning to recover well. After the initial accident, her x-rays came back clear, and so the next milestone is the scan, which should take place next week sometime. The vet, who has been three times now, is extremely impressed with her progress. It's strange to think that I very nearly lost her, and in fact, I haven't yet come to terms with it. 

To non-horsey people, the way I feel about Hills may seem bizarre, but to me, she is like my child. I don't have children, and as yet, don't want any. I don't feel responsible for Hillary (although I know I am), I feel more as though I would do anything for her because I love her and couldn't imagine not having her in my life. If she hadn't reacted to her leg getting caught in the gate calmly, she probably wouldn't be here right now. I am so so grateful that she reacted so calmly, and that there were people around to help her. I am grateful to everyone that helped her that evening, and am trying to thank everyone that either helped her directly, or who have sent her get well messages. To many, this may seem strange, but to me, my whole world has been turned  upside down. 

The vet has been this morning (18.2.12), and is amazed by how well she is doing. The bandage has been removed from the much thicker green one, to a much lighter red one:

There is much less swelling than expected (some around the coffin joint and pastern) but everything seems unbelievably well. Hills in herself is bright and when I take her out on her little walks (to stop her stiffening up), she is forward and wanting to move about. The vet tells me that although her still being here is a miracle, and her progress is remarkable, there is still likely to be some damage. It's hard to be realistic for me.

I wanted to spend my few days off riding, and was so excited when the snow melted. I can't believe what has happened to her, and despite part of me feeling that so much has befallen her recently, I do feel quite positive. I can't wait for her rehabilitation to start, and to get her back working. Sometimes, things are sent to try us, and life suddenly becomes hard. I have hardly slept this week and when I have slept, I have been plagued by nightmares. But despite all the uncertainty and worry, I still have Hillary, and the prognosis is good. So for all the times she has been brave, and looked after me, I now will look after her, and I only hope I can give what she gave to me.

A Lucky Escape

My absolute nightmare happened yesterday (14.2.12). After a lovely Valentine's day, Ric (my partner) received a message via facebook, asking me to ring the farm urgently. My mobile had died some hours before, and as most days I barely use my phone, I didn't worry about it. Using Ric's phone, we rang the farm. The news was frightening to any horse owner- Hillary had got herself caught in the gate in a freak accident. The gate had been removed but they had called the vet in the emergency, and Hills had undergone some x-rays. The worst part of this was, was that I had drunk a few glasses of wine by this time and was not legal to drive. Panicking, I phoned my mother, but could not get in touch with her. I then phoned a taxi. There was no way I wasn't getting to the farm.

Eventually I got in touch with my mother and one taxi ride, followed by a ride in my mother's Land Rover later, I arrived at the farm. Hillary was eating (a good sign) but could barely bear any weight on her leg. She'd been given a huge shot of pain killers, and kept fidgeting with the bandaged back leg, picking it up and putting it down. Her x-rays had come out clear, although the vet couldn't definately rule out a hair-line fracture. Everything had happened while I wasn't there; while I had been playing pool in our local pub, laughing and joking, totally unaware. I felt angry with myself for not being there for her.

That night (last night) I did not sleep a wink, worrying about her.

This morning, I waited for the vet to call to tell me when he'd be visiting again. I went into work for a couple of hours, despite being off on holiday) to take my mind off it, but it didn't work. By the time the vet finally arrived, I couldn't focus on anything else- I'd been mindlessly brushing Hillary for about an hour already.

The vet arrived, and was very helpful. He watched her walk out of her stable, and the prognosis seems positive. Hillary is lucky to be still with us; she is the luckiest outcome of a very unlucky situation. She needs to be given painkillers for the foreseeable future, and also for the time being, any form of exercise that falls beyond a 2 minute walk is strictly forbidden. She is due a scan late next week to assess more finely, whether there is any other damage.

I am gutted. More for her than for me, but I really wanted to continue riding. I feel like there is a lot befalling her at the moment, and I don't for a second believe she deserves it. I am so unbelievably thankful for the people that rescued her, and indeed for the fact that she is still here, but for the time being, my saddle will sit firmly over the back of the sofa, than over the back of my horse.
Thank you to all those involved in helping us last night. From the bottom of my heart.

Get well soon my Sunshine x x x

Snow.

It is February and snow has come. Luckily, unlike the two previous years, I have been able to get to the farm without having to rely upon my parents. Their Land Rover is so valuable, but I hate having to take up their time. But, there is still time yet...

Hillary has been very calm this time round. Usually, she likes to run around, and throw in a few bucks, spraying snow everywhere, but this time, she has seemed much more relaxed, more interested in food than in using up a bit of energy. She still waits stock still while I change her rugs, and then walks quickly down to the field or menage snorting, wanting to be out and to stretch her legs. Once loose though, she barely moves; two rolls is the most active I've seen her since the snow.

I worry about the ice. Our yard has been gritted, but everywhere is slippery at the moment, and that along with the dark evenings, make me question turning Hills out. Tonight, I turned her out in the field whilst doing her jobs. When the light began to fade, I decided to bring her in. As I turned to close the gate, her back leg slipped on some ice, and she almost sat down. Luckily, she righted herself immediately, but then proceeded to walk quickly back to her stable, expecting her tea. I don't know how much she can see, and so the fact that there is ice on the ground worries me. She doesn't seem to think twice about it, and ploughs on regardless. I wish that I could stop thinking about her eyes; I wish that I didn't know in a way, because then it wouldn't make me think about and analyse everything I  do all the time. I want to look forward and hope again.

I can't wait for the snow to go. I want to get out her saddle and bridle, and ride again. I aim to ride as much as I can for as long as I can, and every day this snow continues is a day less for my aim. I have stopped being angry now, and have become more accepting, more comfortable with her condition and my lack of options. It seems that other things too, have decided to play on my mind, and at the moment, I am a whirlwind of worry.  But in her ignorance, Hills at least is happy, and if I'm honest, that alone makes life worth living.

Each New Day.

It has been approximately three weeks now since I found out about Hillary's eyes, and there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about it. I have lots of questions about her future that seem to hang over my head, and I feel incapable of helping her.

I am not angry so much (although sometimes I can be), rather I feel a sense of gratefulness that we have these moments together, and although I wish that I had never had my problems, and therefore missed out on so much time with her, I am very aware I can do nothing but try to make it right.

During the week, I went out on a hack with a few friends. This was my first hack on Hillary since finding out about the cataracts. Halina takes her out on hacks a lot and this balances the amount of work in the school that I do. At the moment, I am so grateful Hills can still hack out; to be restricted to just the menage seems very dull and boring. She may be able to hack out for many more years, but these issues are the things I think about every day at present, and they sometimes drive me mad.

I squashed myself into my body protector (a must now for hacking), and got on with some much needed help from Gaynor, as I couldn't move properly in it. We then set off up the track into the hills. Naturally, I was trying to see everything that could bring on a spook so that I could prepare for it, but the worst we came past was a large plastic sheet replacing a missing garage door. It made noises in a wind, and I could feel her tense up, but I rubbed her neck, and she walked on. She felt fresh and sprightly, and proceeded to overtake every other horse we were with, but I did not feel worried by her quick step and the fact I had to hold her back. Instead, I felt as though she was enjoying the ride; she seemed to be having fun.

When we arrived back at the yard, I felt so proud of her. I do not know what she can see, or how far, but I know that she tries her best to please. If I say 'go' she will do her best to trust me and follow as I say. I can't express in words the way that makes me feel, to have a relationship with this animal based upon trust and a desire to please.

Every day, I tell myself that my horse has cataracts; that she is medically incurable, and that she will never be the same again. I tell myself that her vision is lessened, and that the best we can hope for is that progression is slow. I am a person who needs something to look forward to and strive towards, and before this, it was growing a super relationship with Hills that allowed us to do new and exciting things. That vision, once clear and inviting, is now blurred and dark, and I cannot see through it. I have noting concrete to hold onto, and the only thing I have now is now; these moments, these memories, this feeling of adoration and admiration and the desire to do right by her, no matter what. Sometimes, it seems,no matter what we aim for and how hard we try, the best we can hope for is the grace to accept the unchangeable that comes our way.

Looking ahead

So, we are up to date now, and so my writing on here will change slightly in that rather than looking back in  way that is well reflected upon over weeks and months, it will be much more immediate and fresh.

Hillary's cataracts look the same; her pupils are a hazy, dazzling blue. The only thing I have noticed in terms of changes, is that she seems to be more snappy and less liking of a fuss. Whilst she has never been one for lots of fuss, and just kind of gets on with things, tough as old boots (I have never had to worry about her in the field), she has never, ever tried to bite me, and in the past few weeks, she has become more short-tempered in the stable. Some people have suggested that it may be due to her feeling more vulnerable because of her loss of sight. I don't really know what I think about that.

Because I can't do anything else, I adopted a 'look forward' approach to start with. It began with feeling glad obviously that she is still here, and that I can still ride at all. I felt grateful for her just being her, and felt that despite her ongoing problems, she still gave her all when we rode. However, this forward thinking, positive approach was short lived.

I have gotten so much more positive and grown so much more confident, that I want to do something with it. I don't want to spend the rest of Hillary's working life going in the menage, and round the same route on the hills, but at the moment there seems nothing else I can do. This has led to moments of real grief and sadness. I wanted to spend many more years with this fantastic bond growing as it has been, but if I'm brutally honest, it feels as though everything I wanted has stopped.

As it's now late January, I am aware that Hillary will have her first cataracts check up in about 6-8 weeks. I feel that if her condition hasn't deteriorated, I will still try to sit a dressage test with her. If it has deteriorated, then I won't, and it's as simple as that.

I feel as though I am running alongside a time limit; as though I need to keep riding as much as I can. This obviously means that when the weather isn't appropriate for riding, (windy conditions) I get extremely frustrated. I feel as though what I want to do has been taken away from me. I don't want to get another horse, because I wanted to move forward with Hillary. In all, at present, it is fair to say that I feel very mixed up.

Whilst I am grateful for everything I have, and in particular, every single time I ride, I am also harboured with a deep feeling of sadness. Hillary is everything to me, and I can't believe what has happened. I wanted so much; even to start jumping again, because I know she loves jumping. But I can't, and there is nothing I can do. I feel empty; whereas before, even just two months ago, I had visions in my mind of what we would do in our future. Now I feel there is nothing; what we do have is so limited, I feel she will get bored.

Today I rode in the wind. I didn't want the weather to stop me riding. I feel as though I have achieved something by doing this for me, but it does seem rather pointless. I am angry, not with anyone, but my bizarre dreams suggest that somewhere, deep down, I blame myself. Not for her condition, but for me being so weak as to allow myself to suffer this anxiety. This makes me feel angry and frustrated.

I will continue to ride when I can, but I know that the things I wanted to share with Hillary, I now can't. Generally I am a positive person, and I feel as though I will be more positive again in a few weeks. I think that for now though, I probably am feeling quite a lot of grief as I try to come to terms with it all. I know and accept that it might seem meaningless to other people, but to me it isn't. It means everything. I just hope that the coming weeks brings lighter nights, and more settled weekend weather. More riding time, so I can spend as much time with Hillary as possible.

Baby Blue Eyes.

I don't know when I first noticed it exactly, but it must be some 2-3 months ago from the date of this post. I had noticed a slight blue tinge to Hillary's eyes, but looking in other horse's eyes, I realised that there were some horses who also had blue tinges. So I put it to the back of my mind.

By this time, I had done so well that I had even had a couple of lessons going over some jumps. An aspiration of mine was for Hills and me to go to Somerford to do the cross country there when I got confident and competent enough. So I wanted (with a really large degree of nerves) to have a little practice. Hills is from Ireland so I believe, and has a wicked jump. She leaps everything with a huge enthusiasm, and even after a lunging session and a lesson, her ears still prick up when she sees a jump being set up. In truth, I really wanted to start jumping again.

One evening, I was talking to Olivia, who was showing me a 'likit' that her horse Ryan was enjoying. They are full of nutrients, and so I was keen to find out whether they would be suitable for Hillary as she remains on a strict diet. Olivia gave the treat to me to show Hills, and she found it so tasty, she nearly pushed me over licking it. I put the treat (in a large bright orange box) on the floor. Hillary put her head down, but didn't seem to be able to locate the box, despite it smelling of treacle. It was only when she put her hoof in it, that she realised where it was; she continued licking it. Both Olivia and I thought it was weird. I showed Olivia the blue in her eyes, and at that point it was decided to get the vet up. Luckily, one of the others was due their jabs soon, and so I asked if it would be possible to tag along to them to share the call out fee.

The problem was though, that it was niggling away at me, and so the next time I saw Gaynor, I got her to have a look. Between the three of us (Olivia, Gaynor and I), we guessed it would most likely be cataracts. However, we didn't really have a clue, and so, impatiently, I pushed for the vet to come sooner.

Cataracts was ruled out straight away. The vet shone the light in her eyes and decided that although there was a definite blue looking opacity, there were no cataracts. He gave me some drops, suggesting an inflammation of the eye ball. They were to be administered three times a day, and I was to call in two days to let him know if the cloudiness had subsided. It didn't.

Again, he recommended some drops, this time a steroid medication with the same dosage instructions. This made a little difference, but nothing major, and a blue line had began to line the edge of her eye. The drops made the cloudiness move away from the iris and more into the pupil. She looked as if someone had blown cigarette smoke into her eye. It was a sort of blue cloud. I rang the vet again, and he recommended that he'd better visit again.

I brought my mum up to this visit for support, as I'd been told that the likely problem was equine recurrent uveitis, which is a regular flare up of the eye. It is painful and requires medication. I felt sick thinking that this terrible condition had befallen my horse. The vet was there when I arrived and had brought an eye specialist.

"It's cataracts." The specialist said. "Medically, they're incurable."

I felt floored to be honest. I was relieved she wouldn't have to have medication, and that she wasn't in pain, but I felt absolutely floored. She has cataracts.

The vet, after a long examination, explained that Hills already has a degree of loss quite significant to the lower peripheral vision, which was the reason she couldn't see the bright orange box. We can no longer do any jumping or even pole work, and hacking out is only safe if every precaution is taken. I can still school, but whatever I do, I have to be aware that she can't see well, and that her sight is deteriorating.

Hillary has to be checked every three months; the first check up will be March 2012. She will never be better, but we can't say as yet how long the cataracts will develop. Many horses develop cataracts in one eye, and still live normal lives, some even eventing. However Hillary has them in both, her left eye being less affected than the right.

I felt like a huge blow had been delivered.

I had heard that my friend's horse had gone into the animal hospital for tests. She was a beautiful animal; a picture of health, and the most loving, kind personality you could ever imagine. I text her owner to see how she was getting on. The reply was swift; she had an incurable brain tumour, and was about to be put to sleep. I sat in my car in tears.

I don't know why things seem to happen to the nicest kindest people and animals. I will miss her, Georgie, and will always remember her with a sense of peace remembering what a beautiful creature she was. There is an old saying that 'heaven is seen in the space between the ears of a horse.' I'm absolutely certain her owners knew this with Georgie.

I have to look forward with Hillary, and know that although she has cataracts, and is going blind, she is still here, with me. I cannot possibly ask for more. She is my Blue-Eyed Disco Dancer, and I am grateful for every second.

RIP Georgie. Missed and loved, always, Sarah and Hillary x x

Days for smiling.

Hillary and I were definitely building a great relationship. Things were looking up. I even started hacking out, mostly thanks to Halina who when I felt nervous, just kept talking to me, about anything . I even went on a few hacks with some of the other riders on the farm, who whilst being aware of my problems, had no idea really how bad I had felt. I still got pangs of fear, but I managed slightly better to hide them.

I decided I wanted to 'show the world' how great Hillary and I were, so I decided to go to Mottram show. Mottram show is a county show held twice a year in our local area. I always, always went to it, even travelling down from Lancaster on a 70plus-mile journey just to go and look round it. I had always dreamed of entering in it, but up until now, had only entered the dog show part in 1993 with the beloved and much missed Candy. I still have the rosette. The last show I had entered with a horse had been a Pony Club show held at the farm I  rode at as a child, where I broke my thumb in the absolute beginners class riding another of the ponies owned by the wonderful family that had owned Sugar. I cleared the round and did the jump off, before doing the jobs and going home for tea. It was sometime later that I went to hospital. I don't know how I managed to break my thumb.

I deliberated again and again over taking Hills to Mottram. I hadn't done a show for over ten years, I didn't know whether she had done any, my family were away, and so the only 'groom' I had was Ric, who even now, knows nothing about horses. Eventually, I remembered Gaynor saying to me that sometimes you have to  "live by the seat of your pants." I sent the form off, and this became the centre of my thoughts for the next few weeks.

Olivia helped me sort out Hillary's mane and tail, which were long and rather scruffy, and lots of people lent me different things. One person even give me a bit, as I had given her a couple of head collars some time before, for her foal. Some people even went as far as setting up mock show rings in the menage for me, and gave me advice on how to do the class. I felt so excited. The day before, my friend spent an hour plaiting Hillary's mane, and by the end of the long day, she looked amazing.

The day was a blur. It was a brilliant experience although we didn't come anywhere, and Hillary was impeccably behaved. I don't think I have ever slept so well though, as I was exhausted. It was a super day. Ric even managed to look after things well, carrying everything he could physically lift.

The lessons were going well too, and Olivia started mentioning doing a dressage test. I never thought I would be capable of sitting a dressage test at any level, and so the idea was a huge confidence boost. I felt as though I was on top of the world once again, and even felt as though I was a fairly competent rider. I felt amazing, beyond anything I could possibly write in words.

I began riding in the menage on my own, which was something that I never thought I could do. In the menage, I would work on whatever Olivia had set for me as a target, and I would work and work on it, each time being more confident and able than the next. These truly were days for smiling.

Friends.

My mother always told me that if I didn't understand something, or couldn't do something, I must ask for help.  So when my confidence dropped, I did just that.

Once I started riding again, I began joining the weekly farm lessons, run by Gaynor's daughter Olivia. The lessons were (and still are) brilliant, because Olivia knew my weaknesses, and just how far she could push me in my confidence loss. Originally, there were a few of us on these lessons, all with our own horses. I went along to every lesson, getting there an hour early to lunge Hillary, and mentally prepare myself. Although I was riding now, I would still feel physically sick, and found that if I had to rush anything, I would end up feeling stressed, which made the whole thing much worse.

Along with taking everything very slowly when preparing for a lesson, I also took to whispering to Hillary, something that I still do now. When I tack her up, or when I get on her, I whisper to her. For some reason, this makes me feel better, as I feel, in a strange way, that she is listening to me.

These group lessons did not last long. There was a man joining in the lessons who was a very novice rider, riding a very sprightly Welsh Section D. Although I get on well with this person, and absolutely adore the pony, I have to be honest in admitting that when he joined us in lessons, I found it harder to cope. The man had no sense of control over the pony, and it got to a point where, even knowing he was in the lesson, made me feel worse.

This maybe selfish of me, and I completely understand, but I have to be completely honest and admit that the only thing that mattered to me was getting back on my horse, and getting over my own fears. I decided that I would stop these lessons, as they didn't seem to be helping.

I had a few private lessons, but again, this didn't work for me. The only feeling Hills had to go off was me, and because I was a bag of nerves, she became so too. The worst lesson I had, Hills had a bad spook, and I couldn't calm myself down. I ended up riding round so rigidly, that my back seemed to be screaming out in pain. I had tears rolling down my cheeks, and kept brushing them away. When I got off, my partner Ric, who had come to watch me tried to console me, but I felt beyond help. Even if I physically could get on, how could I ride? I couldn't hack out (the thought physically terrified me), I couldn't join in group lessons, and I couldn't have private ones either. I felt terrible. It was as though I had got through something major, to find that what was on the other side was purely another set of problems. I was exhausted.

At the time, Guinness, a lovely black cob, was stabled next to Hillary. I had taken him out on a hack right at the start of my problems because it was thought he'd be quieter than Hills. Even then I'd felt afraid, but I'd taken him out with a group of others, and had come back having achieved something, even if it wasn't with Hillary. Guinness is the horse on the right in the picture at the top of this post. He is a real gem.

At the time, Guinness needed exercising, and a lady came to see him. Because I am the kind of person who loves to chat, I got talking to this person. When she next visited, the same happened. She made me feel at ease somehow, and I got talking to her about my problems. Between us, we decided to see if we could have a lesson together. That way, I wouldn't be on my own, and I would also know the temperament of the other horse. It sounded perfect.

The lady's name was Emma, and we have ridden together ever since. Emma makes me feel as though I am teaching her something. This in turn, makes me feel competent, and thus boosts my confidence. Our lessons are great. There is an atmosphere of calm and focus, but with a lightness that means we can laugh when things don't go to plan. These lessons are undoubtedly the highlight of my week, and I know that if the weather is not good on the day of the lesson, I find it very hard to give up and not ride. I think that I perhaps find it harder than most now; I will always try to ride if I can and if it's safe, and I know that if I can't ride, the frustration I feel is not only difficult for me, but also difficult for Ric, who has, rather graciously, always had to bear the brunt of it.

Emma (pictured at the top of this post) I hope will be a friend and riding partner for a long time to come, along with the other people who have helped me move forward. From Gaynor and Olivia who have been my teachers and advisors, to Halina who is always there for a good natter, and who is a constant support, I have a network of friends who I am grateful for, and whom I know that without which, I would not have got my relationship back with Hillary. When something means as much to you as she does to me, there is are no words that can describe the way support makes you feel. So for everyone that has been involved with us, in any shape or form, thank you.

The Problem of Poise.

The way you sit when riding plays a large part in how you ride. This is obvious, and the seat is one of the most important aspects of riding. I was riding with a rubbish seat, due to my fear. Instead of being aligned through the head, shoulders, hip and heel, I was tipped forward above my hips. I held the reins tight, desperate to maintain control, and I was afraid to use any proper leg, in case she shot forwards, and unseated me.

When I rode in this manner, my spine, still fragile, would lock and I would be plagued with a searing pain in my lower back. Riding was painful and in some cases, felt unbearable, but my determination meant that after a minute of rest, I would try to continue. The first few weeks were painful, and I found myself submerging into a deep bath to try to loosen the knots that had set into my back. I even developed lumps in my back, where the muscles became inflamed, leaving me with an intense, creaking pain.

Hillary has always tried her best to look after me, and to make sure that I was safe. I firmly, truly believe that I could not have ever found myself a better horse to be with than her, and I am sure that no matter how many horses I ever own in my future, there will be none like her, and no other that I love anyway near as much.

Olivia, through her regular teaching, began to make me straighten up; to find the centre of gravity, from which to ride. I felt as though she was asking me to lean backwards, and I felt very unsettled, but looking at photographs of me riding proved to me that I began to look more relaxed and 'proper'. I began to come interested in dressage, and was kindly given a test to practice. Olivia picked up on this interest and started to build it into lessons. Before long, I was thinking about this way of riding every second- I even decided to buy my lovely dressage saddle when my old one came up for a change. As previously mentioned, my parents came up with the money for my beautiful saddle, and it was worth every penny.

I also began working towards having light hands. My hands and arms were so tense that every time Hills even tripped, I pulled on her mouth harshly by tensing up. One of the most successful things I have learned (although it took a lot to actually do) is to keep my hands light in such a way that if I see something that might make Hills spook, I push my hands forward, making my reins slack. I talk to Hills, and rub her neck, but my hands are light and loose giving no tension in the bit. This relaxes her and she very rarely spooks now.

Those first months, when I was battling to continue to get on and ride were truly Hell, and there were so many times when I felt like giving up. But slowly, with time, patience, determination, and a lot of tears, I began to feel that passion come back. It took a lot to get it back, but now it's here, I hope it will never, ever leave again.

And.... breathe

So...Hillary and me. Back on track. I had hugely high hopes, but the tension and anxiety was horrible. One of my favourite horse films is "The Horse Whisperer," based on the book by Nicholas Evans. In it, Grace, who has suffered a terrible accident with her horse Pilgrim, overcomes all her personal difficulties by finally being able to get on his back once again. Then come the credits. And, usually, a couple of tears from me (yes, I'm that sad).

But in truth, confidence isn't like that at all. Yes I'd got on Hillary's back again. Yes, I'd managed to ride again, but I was far from better. Every time I thought about getting on, I still suffered the nausea; I still shook with fear, and cried. I still tortured myself and made myself consider selling her to somewhere where she would be better looked after. This was the start of our journey, not the end, and it was exhausting.

Anxiety makes your body uncontrollably tense. You become hyper sensitive to your surroundings. This constant awareness makes you very tired; the body cannot cope with constant over stimulation and adrenaline. I was exhausted. I couldn't believe how tired feeling this way made me. For me, it was facing your fear again and again every day. Going through that  terror every day. If you've never experienced it, it must be hard to imagine. But it is very real. Mental health issues are something that I never gave enough consideration too. I feel different now.

As I mentioned before, I went to see a psychologist on the NHS to be assessed for some help. This was in April. I'm still waiting, but I told myself that whether I had help or not, the main person who had to work was me, and so I made myself put in the effort anyway.

But it wasn't always easy. One strategy for improvement, was for me to have lessons, and I had these off Gaynor's daughter, Olivia, who has now become a most trusted friend. Every Sunday morning (even now) I can be found at the yard having my lesson. The first lesson, my family came to see. I gave them my mobile to take pictures on- i have a few, plus one of my dad's welly for some reason. Olivia has had a hard job teaching me, as everything about the way I was riding was in order to self preserve due to my fear. She had to start from scratch, and although at times I must have been the most annoying pupil, she has always shown the greatest amount of patience.

Because of my fear-induced riding style, Hillary was able to feel the exact tension I felt. This made her spook. It was entirely my fault, but I didn't see it- you can't when everything in your body is telling you that you are in the safest part of a bad situation. But although my body didn't want to change the way I rode, and felt as though it was completely and entirely wrong, I tried to trust Olivia, and believe in what she was saying. It took me a hell of a long time, but eventually, I began to relax. And when I relaxed, Hillary did the same.

New Beginnings.

I was determined after the cushings news that things had to change. I couldn't yet sit on Hillary, but I wanted to make sure that I could exercise her in other ways. The first thing I had to do was learn to lunge her. Through lunging, I would be able to exercise her from the ground, and this, backed up with Halina's regular hacks up the hills, would enable us to work on Hillary's fitness. However, Hillary was incredibly fresh and sprightly, and so I had to learn how to control her, and my nerves. 

One person who was instrumental in this was the farm owner, Gaynor, who knew how I was feeling. She showed me how to lunge Hillary, what equipment to use, and how to make sure I stayed safe. At first, Hillary would tear round the menage, and I would feel afraid, but after a while, I learned how to watch her movements to try and predict what she would do, and I also learned how to use my voice to help direct her in what I wanted her to do. Over time, lunging became one of the most fundamental parts of my confidence growth. Lunging took the pressure off me to ride, and so I didn't feel as guilty as I had done. Also, when I eventually started to ride again, lunging allowed me to gauge how Hillary was feeling. I could watch her on the ground and decide what sort of mood she was in and how much 'fizz' she had. Lunging is fab, and I'd recommend it to anyone with issues like mine.

Despite how even the thought of riding made me feel, I was sure I still wanted to do it. I knew that I was suffering with a mental 'blip,' and knew that I wanted to get over it. I wanted to ride so much, and yet it was like being faced with a brick wall. I often cried about it, and got incredibly angry with myself. It's hard for people to understand what you're going through unless they've been through it, and added to all the pressure and frustration you feel, is the nagging feeling that other people think you are making it up too. My family were a strong support, especially my younger sister, Jess, who has not only taken my mind off my feelings by being a chatterbox, but who also modelled all my behaviours when she began riding, allowing me to see how my behaviour affected Hillary. My mum always told me to keep trying, and to think positive, but my dad was a little less sympathetic. In his mind, I'd spent all this money on a horse I couldn't ride. Though he frustrated me, I think that actually, his matter of fact way of seeing things helped me to think more positively and helped to give me a sense of determination.

My parents did, however, help immensely by making sure that if I needed something to help me, they'd make sure I got it. They took me to get a top of the range body protector, and even lent me the money for a dressage saddle- riding with a longer leg makes me feel more secure. I am lucky to have parents who ensure that I have what I need, and who have never questioned me about it.

I remember the first time I managed to sit on Hillary again; five seconds of not breathing and sheer terror. I slid off and my legs nearly buckled. I couldn't help but repeatedly hug and kiss Hills, and I even cried as I rang my mum to tell her about it. This getting on and sliding off continued for days until i managed to take a few steps forward. Hillary was very accommodating about it,and behaved impeccably.

One day, whilst lunging in the menage, Gaynor joined me riding her lovely horse Olly. She worked round me while I lunged, and eventually stopped and said: "Right, get on." I was terrified, but I didn't want to look stupid, especially as it seemed she was about to give some of her time up for me. I scrambled onto Hillary's back, and, heart beating wildly, began to follow Gaynor round in little twisting lines. She didn't stop moving, and kept talking to me all the time. We weaved round the menage again and again, and eventually I began to relax. Then we moved into trot. By the time I got off, I was a whirlwind of excitement and emotion. It was this excitement that over ruled the fear and what kept me going in the first stages, although we were a huge way off. 

Cushings warning

One of the most significant factors in getting me back in the saddle was indeed a warning from the vet. Google if you will: equine cushings syndrome.

Hills has always been a chunky character; a farrier once told me (only days after I'd got her) that if I carried on feeding her the way she was being fed, I wouldn't get a girth to fit her. I felt worried about this, although I didn't even legally own her at this point. I followed his advice about a feeding regime, but Hillary began to realise that outside in the field there was more food than in her stable; she began not to be caught. It is so frustrating to literally be run circles round by a horse, and I began to think at that point, I didn't want to buy her, but luckily things have changed.

So Hills has always been rather large; she even pulls faces when she doesn't have food available straight away after finishing her last lot. It was suggested by the farm owner that Hills could have hay instead of haylege. The  difference is in the way that it is packed. Both start out as hay. Haylege is packed in plastic wrapping in which it sweats, and hay isn't. The result is that hay (the more expensive of the two) is less calorific, and therefore better, for horses like Hills, than haylege. Hills switched straight away.

Then something rather peculiar happened. A friend of mine, with a lovely mare, found that her horse was laminitic. Laminitis is very painful, and is characterised by a 'leaning back' look, where a horse seems to be resting on it's heels. My friend had the vet out to her horse, and the reason it was laminitic was due to 'equine metabolic syndrome' which is apparently similar to type two diabetes in humans. It is extremely important to note that I am in no way experienced with equine conditions, and so my rather simplistic explanation of them comes from my simplistic view, rather than scientific understanding. If I'd understood science then maybe I'd have done better at A-level biology.

The rather peculiar thing is that, for some reason, this got into my head. I wasn't riding at that point, and my relationship with Hills was at an all time low (being nervous around a flight animal isn't helpful). Hills was putting on weight, and although I was aware of it, and wanted to change it, I found it hard. I work full time as a primary school teacher, and it was hard to come home and want to go through the stress of riding where my anxiety levels rocketed. For some reason (unbeknownst to even me,) I decided that Hills had to have this metabolic syndrome too. Despite being on hay, and being exercised at least twice a week by my excellent friend Halina who loans her three times a week so I can work, Hills wasn't losing weight. It couldn't purely be down to me not riding.

I admit that I felt a little stupid about having blood tests done for a horse that seemingly had nothing wrong with it. Hills was never lame (she wasn't even lame when she fell through a fence in the field and had seventeen  different cuts on her legs), and never seemed to be sick or sorry. I did feel that maybe I was looking for something to be wrong, and that people wouldn't take me seriously. But I did it anyway, and kept it to myself so that if there was nothing wrong, I wouldn't feel stupid.

Despite the obvious amount of money that it could cost, I rang the vet to do a blood test. I can't remember now how I put it to them, but it must have sounded odd. I suppose that I felt that if I didn't have the test done, I'd worry about it. It was just a gut feeling I had.

The bloods were taken, and I felt nervous waiting for the call back. Finally, it came earlier than expected. Hills  didn't have EMS luckily, but there was something not quite right. One of her blood levels was quite a bit higher than it should have been. This was due to Hillary's weight, and what it meant was that Hillary was borderline Cushings. If it continued to develop, with Hills not losing any weight, she would end up with the condition.

That was all the vet said, and I didn't know anything about cushings. He gave me some advice about what to do with her hay to further reduce calories, and then he went. Luckily, there happened to be a vet from a different practice up at the yard. I told my friend the news about the blood test, and she asked the vet. His reply was simple. "It's a swelling on the brain."

I felt as though my legs turned to jelly. My friend gave me a hug, and I admit that with that blow, I just had to get my jobs done and leave the yard as quickly as possible. At home, I slumped against the radiator (where I am sat now writing this) and looked up cushings on google. That was the worst thing I could have done. Its awful. I sobbed until I could sob no more, with an intensity that made me ache the next day. I knew that it was my fault. I knew that because my brain was messed up; because I was a failure who couldn't ride, I was going to do this to my horse. It was a really difficult time, and sadness turned very quickly to anger. But looking back, it was that pain and guilt that made me want to get back on. I couldn't let myself do this to Hillary.

Problems arise

When I first bought Hillary I had no idea what was about to happen. I was a mix of dread, having not ever experienced responsibility like it, and enjoyment, buying new things and setting up my stockpile of everything I needed for a new horse. I suppose some people want children, and would go through similar emotions, fears and hopes. Although one day I may have children, I feel that Hills is the accumulation of everything I wanted. I've no desire to rush into anything that may take this away from me.

At first, I loved riding, and rode as much as possible, just like I'd told myself I would do. But then, as work took up time and energy, I became more and more reluctant to ride. At first I told myself  'tomorrow'. It was always riding another day. After all, Hillary was mine now, I had all the time in the world.

It never occurred to me that I was losing my confidence. I felt so whimsical about the whole thing. One day I simply didn't fancy riding; the next I couldn't.

The symptoms were obvious; it would occur whenever I imagined riding, but particularly when I thought I was going to attempt to ride. I would feel incredibly sick, suffer shakes, and have (for want of a better expression) an upset stomach. Palpitations and a tight chest would also happen. For a total of three heart wrenching months, my feet stayed firmly on the ground. I could not even sit on my horse.

The mental torture was horrific. The best way to explain it would be for a person suffering arachnophobia having to hold a spider all the time. I know that I was short tempered with my family and loved ones for this period. Standing in front of Hillary, and considering getting on her back was like considering to jump off a cliff.

Luckily, my family tried to understand. I think looking back it was a combination of things; I had left a long-term relationship, moved house, changed job, and lost my grandfather. I think that the pressure of my new job, and the fact I was a 'teacher' meant that I felt more responsibility. I also continued to feel responsibility for Hills. All this meant that in my mind getting on that horse was insane.

At this point, I have to reiterate, I was suffering extreme anxiety. Eventually, I went to the doctors, broke down, and was referred to the mental health service. When I was finally seen, I was labelled (after a further breakdown) as being a 'severe 9' out of ten for anxiety.  I was told that I needed cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) but as yet this has not been given.

I felt like a bad owner. I felt that I encompassed everything wrong with human kind. It sounds a total over reaction, but if you have experienced it, then you will know that it's not. To tell how bad it was, I put Hillary (everything I had ever wanted) up for sale. Realising I couldn't sell, I opted to have someone loan her long term. It got to the day before she was due to go, and again, my fantastic parents stepped in, and I didn't let her go.

By this time, my confidence was so low, I couldn't even handle her. It took a few lunging sessions off the farm owner (who is a wonderful person and very good friend) to get Hillary to behave in a way that wasn't going to make me think she was about to kill me, and eventually I began to be able to handle her again.

It was to be the start of a long journey.

Hillary.

Hillary was born in 1997. So she was twelve when I bought her. She spent eight years on a riding school; three years of which, I believe, she was living out. She is a 16hh warmblood X cob type, although I don't actually know anything of her breeding. She is a dark bay with three white socks, often covered in mud, and a lovely wide blaze. Her tail is thick and wavy, and her mane grows quickly with big kinks. She is not very fine, and yet not too heavy; she is perfect.

When I bought Hillary, I remember the specific feeling: dread. Not happiness, or excitement like I'd always imagined, but dread. Suddenly, this magnificent animal was my responsibility. If she was ill, it would be my responsibility. If something happened, it was down to me. I was terrified. I often felt awkward about not feeling excited or happy. I know that my parents went through a lot to lend me the money, and for a long time, I felt as though I was ungrateful. But when I look at Hills now, I feel a sense of achievement, a pride and love that I have never felt. I think that in the early stages, I had built up so much expectation of what it would be like, that I was overwhelmed. I knew that I had to repay my parents, and look after a horse all by myself. I was entering the unknown and didn't know what to expect. I was simply being cautious, and I'd rather be that than end up losing her by throwing caution to the wind.

I originally kept Hillary at the riding school while she was on a trial with me. The facilities there are great: indoor and outdoor schools, a horse walker, a cross country course, solarium etc etc. Super. However, I soon realised that whenever I rode her, or did anything with her, everyone knew her and had something to say about it. Since owning Hills (which is not long at all really), I have come to accept that owning horses is something of an ambiguous thing- different people look after their horses differently. There are, and always will be, people that think their way is best. I have never been one of those people. I always want to help people, and make their lives easier, but I never imagine myself to be someone who knows more than anyone else.

Needless to say, the day the money for Hillary exchanged hands, I emptied her stable, and moved somewhere else. A place where people would look at me and Hillary as we are, rather than judging us. This place, Thorncliffe, on the outskirts of Manchester, is a place I have come to love, and a place where hopefully Hillary and I will always be. It is here that I have laughed and cried, made and lost contact with friends. But more importantly, it is a place that Hillary feels comfortable, and where the routine suits her down to the ground. I work full time as I always have done, and at the end of a difficult day, this is the place I long to be. We are both happy here, and hope that we will continue to be for many years to come.

The Fall.

On the 5.4.2009, I had an accident which, although I didn't own Hillary at the time, had what was to be a profound impact on our relationship.

In November 2008, I began riding again, after the eight year gap mentioned in my previous post. I was living in Lancaster at the time, where I was studying to be a teacher on a PGCE course. I was a smoker and wanted to quit. I decided that for every week I didn't smoke, the money I saved, I would spend on a riding lesson. I wanted to get back into riding so much- my PGCE would last eighteen months; after that, I would get a teaching post and be able to buy a horse!

It took ages to find a place to ride, and eventually I happened upon a little place in the hills above Lancaster. It was a forty minute journey each way, but once I'd been once, I didn't mind the journey- if anything, it was a  great time to think, and the scenery is second to none.

I had high hopes. In my mind, everything I now did was in preparation for the moment I would own my own horse. The moment I excitedly arrived at the farm for my first lesson however, I became instantly disappointed (although it was short-lived), because I was immediately faced with a 13.2hh woolly fell pony called Minnie. I had envisaged myself riding a 16hh warmblood rather ignorantly, and this fell pony, with her long mane, and chunky little legs, was not what I was expecting. The riding instructor was wonderful, and really helped me re-learn the ropes after the long break. She also allowed me to do things such as groom and tack up Minnie (who I ended up adoring) before the lessons, and also muck her out afterwards. To anyone not horsey, this probably doesn't seem like a valuable thing, but to me, it was like reuniting my adult self with my childhood dreams, and I loved it.

Minnie was a little star, and I enjoyed riding her, however, I longed to ride something bigger. I have always been an admirer of bigger horses and so I knew that when I bought my own, it would be around 15-16hh. There is an argument about the power of ponies, and about how bigger isn't necessarily better, but I did, and still do, admire larger, taller horses.

I persuaded my instructor to change horses and I began to ride another one. Eric was a 15.3hh arab X thoroughbred. I also got my other wish which was to begin jumping. This was my childhood passion, and I had actually broken my thumb jumping at a show; continuing to do another round with a black and swelling thumb, before deciding it probably needed seeing to.

One day, whilst riding Eric, who was quickly becoming something of a favourite, my instructor set out some canter poles. These were going well. About two minutes before the end of the lesson, we went down the line again, and Eric put in cheeky buck. Although this unseated me a little, and I lost a stirrup, I wasn't really worried. I continued down the line of poles with one foot loose, when, just at the corner, Eric tripped, and shot sideways. I remember seeing the ground come to meet me. Occasionally, I still dream about this too.

I hit the ground, and for a moment, took in the idea that I had fallen off. This had not happened in a long time. Then the pain began; a pain that I can still remember now. I was lay out flat on my front, and I wanted desperately to bend my spine; the pain was entirely there, and it made me feel sick instantly. I remember wanting to know if Eric was OK. He was, and strangely people wanted to know about me. Although it hurt, and hurt a lot, I felt as though I'd be OK.

I tried to get to my knees, but my left leg gave way. I ended up being helped to the fence at the side of the menage; a ten metre journey that felt like hours with the pain. I had no feeling except a strong pain in my left leg. A chair was brought for me to sit on (I couldn't drive home) and I waited to be picked up by my partner at the time.

I was taken straight to the Royal Lancaster Infirmary in a state of shock. Luckily I had my partner at the time who was a great support beside me, and after several x-rays, I was told I had fractured my hip. Since then, due to continuing pain in the area, I have been informed it was my spine that was fractured and not my hip, but to be fair it's irrelevant now. All I know is that I am left with reduced movement in my right leg, and pain that happens most days, particularly when it's cold. I cannot sit in one place or stand for a long period of time. But the biggest way my accident affected me was with my riding.

Not long after my fall, I returned home to Manchester, where my mum was recovering from an operation. She was instructed that walking in flat places would help her recovery, and so I tried to help by taking her to different places for short walks. One of those places turned out to be the riding school where I had ridden as a child (suggested by my youngest sister). Whilst there we took a relief break to the toilets next to the office. On the window of the office was an advert: "For Sale: Hillary." Regardless of the extra information, I knew it was her. Hillary, that mare from years ago. Mum persuaded me to call, and the next thing I knew, I was riding her with a view to buy.

My job was coming to an end of a contract, and so I didn't say anything about her purchase. I applied for some jobs, and eventually got an interview. The job was mine, and thanks to my wonderful parents, so was the horse.

Hillary and Me - A Background.

I have owned Hillary (Little Miss Sunshine) since 15.08.2009. As will most likely become apparent if you were to read this, she is my absolute everything, and so as a result, this blog is written as a means of sharing my experiences with her, and both our trials and joys as we face them. 

I first sat on a horse before I learned to walk. My mum jokes that, as it was my dad's choice to sit me on this pony, it's his fault that I then became absolutely obsessed with horses. I don't obviously remember sitting on this pony, but I do remember seeing the picture that captured the moment. Whether that particular moment was the spark that ignited my obsession or not, I don't know, but I do know that ever since, I've been hooked. 

My parents could never afford a pony for me, and definitely didn't have the time or experience for me to have one. But they did however, know someone who had a pony available for loan. She was an elderly welsh pony standing at 12.2hh. Her name was Sugar, and I learned so much from my time with her. I am eternally grateful for the family that owned her, as they probably saw more of me in that time than my own family did, and treated me no different from their own children. People like that are a rare special thing, and I owe them a huge amount. Unfortunately, when I was ten, after around eighteen months of looking after Sugar, she became ill, and had to be put to sleep. I remember the last time I saw her; my mum let me wear my best clothes to the yard to go and spend time with her. I just brushed her for about an hour. I didn't want to go. 

I continued to ride for probably another five years, before I became engrossed with my GCSEs. I suppose that because I didn't have a pony of my own, I didn't need to ride. I had decided by that point anyway, that if I wanted a horse of my own (which I definitely did), I would have to earn the money to keep it myself, and so for the next eight years, I threw all my efforts into becoming a teacher, in the hope that in that career, I would have both the time and money to reach my goal. 

Hillary was a horse I first met when I was around fifteen. She came over from Ireland as I remember as a four year old, and became a riding school horse on the yard where I rode with Sugar's family. I always found her stunning (just look at her picture!) and even got to have a ride on a lesson. I don't remember much about the ride, except for that she was a fresh, sparky thing, but I was besotted. To now get to see her every day is a blessing, and how I actually came about owning her makes me a pretty firm believer in fate.