Rescuing Rusty

I need to get this out and it’s easier to do it once here and then never have to say it again than to tell people separately. I owe my mom a telling of it since Coyote was partially hers. I don’t know that I will be reading or answering any comments on this at the moment. Maybe someday. That doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate everyone’s support. Just can’t at the moment.

On Wednesday Morning, Dec. 26th, I went out to give Coyote his Bute. He turned his nose up at the apple with the Bute, then at any apple or treat. Instead he went back and stood in the middle of the corral. Something was definitely wrong.

In between getting the kids breakfast and while my husband finished feeding I watched him. I gave him his dose of Bute the old fashioned way, quickly and without him knowing what was happening. No fuss no muss. I thought it might be the pain from the eye. He was pooping and not kicking at his belly or rolling.

After breakfast I went to look again, thinking he’d be doing better now that the meds had kicked in. He was not.

It was drizzling freezing rain. Even the dirt was coated in ice and slippery to walk on. Getting out with a trailer would not be easy. We check road reports. Some people said roads were awful, others said just wet. My husband left with the kids to take them shopping for their Christmas presents. They could stick to the gravel roads until they were almost to town and take it easy the rest of the way. I had planned to go along too but there was no way I could leave Coyote.

As soon as they left I called the vet. Luckily our usual vet who had worked on Coyotes eye answered. She said usually they would have me bring him in but the roads had been awful over that way. If we had Banamine give it to him. I told her that if we didn’t I would drive over in the pickup on the back roads and pick some up.

I went up and asked my father in law if he had any on hand. He said he had had some and searched for it. The bottle was no longer there. He called a neighbor, they didn’t have any either. I thanked him and said I would just drive over and get a new bottle.

First I check on Coyote again. I had put him and Rusty in the barn so he could be warm and dry instead of standing out in the freezing rain. By now he was showing actual signs of colic. He was rolling violently, pawing, and rubbing his head on everything. He had to get to the vet. If the roads were still covered in ice we would try to make it on the gravel.

By then my husband was well on his was, in the opposite direction, he said the roads had melted and were really just wet. Luckily because the gravel roads were a slippery mess. We slid to a stop at the highway with wheels locked up and gaining speed before we hit pavement and stopped. I went back to check the trailer and make sure everything was in order like I always do before starting out onto the highway. Coyote had not laid down to resume rolling in the trailer like I had left him loose so he would be free to do. Instead he looked alright. I hoped the trailer ride was fixing things like it had a couple of months ago.

The road was just wet with ice off to the sides. We were able to make good time without any trouble. Pulling in at the vet I unloaded him and left Rusty, who came along to keep Coyote company of course! in the trailer to paw and have a fit. We led Coyote into the exam room and into the stocks.

He had his gut sounds thoroughly listened to and pooped again. His gut sounded good. Then she gloved up for a more in depth exam. After a minute she pulled out and went for a second vet. This vet gloved up and reached in. That was when I realized it was not going to be good. She had felt the band to and he flinch terribly when she touched it. He was twisted.

They asked about my budget. I asked for a quote, knowing surgery was out of the question. The quote she gave me assured me of it. Even if I was able to spend that kind of money on him, and the risk of complications was not so high, I would have to be able to haul him, colicing badly, three to four hours, either south into the coming snow storm or north into the hills. Ogallalla, Cheyenne, Rapid City, Denver? There was no way over icy roads with a predicted blizzard coming in. The cars I had met coming in had been covered in snow already.

I didn’t hold up well at that point. I love having female vets. Not only because I just like it better, they don’t get all condescending and know it all like men, but also because it was much easier to sob in front of them.

They said there was one last thing they could try. If they pumped him full of fluids, there was a slim chance it could push through his intestines and straighten things out. I was willing to try anything at that point so they hooked him up to an IV and hit him with the strongest pain killers they could. I brought Rusty in to keep him company.

We stood and waited. I questioned the vet on whether letting him roll could have made things worse? She reassured me, again, it’s something I know but it’s hard not to question at times like this, that rolling doesn’t hurt anything and making horses keep walking while colicing is mostly to give owners something to do. Rusty kept sniffing his nose and roaming the room to check things out. Coyote was mostly out of it from the drugs.

As they wore off he got fidgety and started shaking from the pain. I went for the vet and she gave him more meds. I tied Rusty up to try to paw a hole in the cement after he started giving Coyote little bites. Company is good. Company that keeps bugging you not so much. The vet said we were looking for less pain each time as he the drugs wore off, that would let us know it was working.

In less than an hour the last dose of drugs was already fading. Instead of lasting longer the drugs couldn’t keep the pain at bay. He started shaking and I couldn’t take it any longer. It was time.

I led him out to a patch of grass. The other vet brought Rusty. Coyote nibbled at the grass and then it was done. He already had the IV in his neck and it was a simple job to administer the drugs. He was gone almost immediately.

This was in no way related to the eye surgery. They did a wonderful job at that. As good as they did in helping him at the end. They have a place there in the tree row where they bury horses. It doesn’t matter where his body lies, he is not there.

His time with us was entirely too short. We should have had another ten, if not twenty years with him. Really though, any amount of time would have been too short.

I keep meaning to write about this. It’s been difficult. Not only because of the subject. Also I’ve been fighting Christmas, between everyone being home and trying to get ready there’s not much time to write, and I could not get the pictures to load to my computer from the phone. Yes I took pictures!
I guess I should mention just what I took pictures of.
Yes, the whole thing was incredibly difficult for me. I sat down that afternoon and wrote a deep sentimental sappy post about it. Not sure exactly what I’m going to do with that one. This one I am going to keep light and factual.
My husband stayed home to feed cows and watch kids. I loaded Coyote, Harvey, and our cat up. Might as well take a full load if we’re going. I wanted to get Harvey’s teeth checked out, make sure there wasn’t anything going on in there. The cat has a sore on her hind end that hasn’t healed. Wanted that looked at too.
I put Coyote in the back thinking they’d start on him first. They didn’t. They did let me keep them both together the whole time. He kept a very nervous Harvey calm while the vet decided his teeth looked great. Then they both went to a pen to wait while they looked at the cat. A quick look and it was decided it needed an antibiotic. Then it was time for Coyote.
The vet tech was great. She was calm and easy with him. The vet was also great. She kept trying to get me to go home and leave Coyote there. It’s a gruesome operation. They didn’t think I could take it. There’s no way I was leaving him though. He’s not an easy horse. Although I’ve really liked this vet every time we’ve seen her I wasn’t going to chance rough handling. I told them I was staying.
They gave him a strong dose to nearly knock him out. He would stay standing while she worked. As his head nodded lower and lower she gave him shots in and behind the eyeball of pain killer. I stood arms crossed in front of me, his head resting in my hand.
We talked as she worked. Womanly things, c-sections, in people and cattle, children, husbands. She was competent and gentle. Soon my hands felt wet. I looked down and realized they were covered in blood that dripped down his face as she cut. I moved my treat bag and phone around behind me to keep them clean.
Of course I brought my treat bag! One of the things I like about this vet is that she has been patient with and never mocked my treat bag and clicking.
Soon enough she had the eye out. I asked her to wait and let me get a picture, leaving blood smears across my phone but documenting the moment. The loss. She says she often sends things like that home for children to take to school to study and dissect. Gotta love small town schools. I thought hard about whether of not to share the picture here. In the end I decided it was too much.
She sewed the skin tightly shut over the hole before I was willing to look. I would stay for the surgery that doesn’t mean I had to look. The change was startling and hard to look at. He will feel so much better though, without the pain of the growth bothering him.
He went back out with Harvey, who had woken enough to start calling for his buddy, to finish waking up. I had an errand to run and was given permission to take him home as soon as I was done. He had come through even better than usual and she didn’t see the need to watch him for the usual length of time.
Coyote is adjusting well to the complete loss of sight on that side. Loosing sight slowly must have helped a little. He is taking his pain med well, after a few hiccups on my end. I am looking forward to writing about our cure for the Bute problem.

Rusty had another chance to show what a big boy he is becoming. Before the cows went out on corn stalks we went through and picked out any that were getting some age to them or limping at all. Those will be kept up close to the buildings where they wont have to walk as far and can be given extra feed.
This one looks pretty healthy and energetic here but there must have been some reason I pulled her out. Rusty seems to be enjoying his job. He let out an enthusiastic little buck as we ran over the top of the dirt pile. The dog getting in the way the whole time could use a little clicker training herself I think.

Sometimes I worry about how far behind we are. Of all the things Rusty should be doing by now. Of all the things he would be doing if I rode once in awhile instead of messing around with those silly tricks. I hear people say things about trick training, they don’t say them kindly either. They have real training to do and don’t have time to mess around with silly things like tricks. I sometimes think we should work on real world skills. I’ve been meaning to introduce Rusty to a rope. A good cow horse needs to be able to have a rope thrown off his back, to be able to hold and drag a calf. It’s so hard to find time for these things though.
Today after church the weather was perfect. Warm and calm. The kids played outside then decided they wanted someone to pull their wagon for them. I said I could do it, on Coyote. Then I remembered how I am trying to go really easy on Coyote until his eye is taken care of. Then I thought about Rusty. He’s never drug anything in his life. So why not start him out pulling the wagon loaded with children?
He took it like a pro. Never spooked. Never hesitated to put his full weight into it. The work wasn’t easy through the deep sucking mud. With the time put in and trust learned working on learning tricks rusty waited calmly for his next cue. He’s used to me asking things of him that would seem weird to a normal horse. He was happy to be playing at this latest fun trick we were learning together.
We’ve been wanting to learn to drive Harvey who may or may not know how. It has somehow never occurred to me to just teach Rusty to drive. I may be buying myself some harness for Christmas

My very wonderful sister in law said today that I will try to clicker train anything that breaths. She may be right. But when something works why fight it? I’ve trained the horses, our dog, a cow. I could work with the cat or the goats but there’s only so much time in a day.
Instead I’ve been concentrating on children. I don’t know that we’re allowed to clicker train children. It might not be PC. Instead I’ve been doing some TAG teaching and positive reinforcement.
I volunteered for an after school program my daughter is in. It must have been a moment of insanity and I soon realized just how much I didn’t want to do it. It’s right after school and the children, especially the boys, needed to be out using up all that energy that had been contained throughout the day. They cold not sit still, instead rough housing and bouncing about the room. Not that I blame them but it did make life difficult. After a few weeks of yelling and ordering around I decided there must be a better way.
Enter the clicker. And a bag of candy.
I wasn’t sure exactly how I wanted to go about it at first, whether I would click them individually or as a group. We rotate through four groups each person taking a different group each week. This would allow me to test the training on all the different children and not mean that it had only worked because of the certain children it was applied to. Also that I had to train different ones every week.
I sat down with the first group, the first time, and asked if they remembered when I brought my horse to the talent show last year. Rather gratifyingly, most of them did. This is a rural school, most if the kids have horses of their own. Seeing a horse isn’t a big deal to them. Our tricks had excited them though, some remembered that he could bow, others that he danced. I then told them that I was going to train them the same way I trained him, by telling them what good jobs they were doing. Then I loaded the clicker. One click, one little piece of candy each, a few times over. Soon every time I clicked all their little hands were stuck out waiting.
I clicked them for sitting down, for listening, then as they got the idea every time one asked if they could help, invited another child to join their group, was polite, or helpful. The whole group got a candy so I tried to be sure no one was doing anything particularly rotten. All those little hands would stick out, then they always asked why? I explained that someone had helped or been nice.
I got a few, Wait, all I have to do is say thank you to get candy?! Soon everyone of them was offering help, inviting another child to work with them, apologizing exuberantly if they bumped into each other.
It worked the same through every group. Even the most difficult were tolerable with a few clicks. The adults stood around after the last class telling horror stories of their evening. One fight. Three children in one group banging around the room, climbing over and under desks. Nobody paying attention. I sat quietly and listened. Mine had been wonderful.
This week the lady in charge brought a few bags of candy of her own.

At church we are getting a handful of small children ready for the Christmas program. Ages three up to early teens. The smallest have to walk up the aisle and say a few words into the microphone. They started out shy and quiet. We added a small reward after each repetition of their lines. First with a click, this is all experimental, then without. It worked much better without. Instead of a click and every child getting a candy every time, the one who finished their lines quietly gets a candy reward.
They march enthusiastically up the aisle and shout into the microphone. This may be working too well 😉
The older kids get their reward too. After their patience in waiting for the littles to finish and reading their lines we make the trip down the line giving each one a candy.

Then my children started doing this the other night. He was playing the dog and she his owner. She was doing quite the job training him too.
This may be getting out of hand.

Coyotes eye is getting worse quite steadily. It is going to have to come out soon. There are some benefits to the slow progression of his cancer. He is becoming accustomed to not being able to see out that side bit by bit instead of all at once. The tumor covers more than half of it now and is starting to make the eye difficult to close.
I don’t know what the surgery and care afterwards will entail but we are doing all that we can to prepare in advance. Instead of waiting until he needs medicine put on it then trying to convince him to accept it, I am getting him used to assuming position and letting me mess with the eye lid. Hopefully this will make it easier for the vets to look at it and for me to doctor after the eye is removed.
It’s a hard thing to know is coming. As long as we can still have Coyote, what is one eye anyway? He will be just the same wonderful horse with only one eye that he is with two. Now I just need to get the vet called, and to keep telling myself that.

I stopped in town today to drop something off. There on the front step, a native man stood, talking, waiting while the women folk did their shopping. He was very friendly and said hi as I walked past. On my way out we struck up a conversation. He introduced himself. His name was wonderful and in the native tongue, Tatanka something that meant two. Of course I can’t remember it, I can barely remember my own children’s names. I told him that of course I knew what Tatanka meant! I’ve seen Dances With Wolves.
He said he would tell me how to say anything I wanted to know. I want to know all of it! How often do we get a chance like that? My mind doesn’t absorb knowledge as quickly as my thirst for it would desire. I froze, I couldn’t think of anything to ask. Finally I said hi. I want to know how to say hello. He told me. He told me quickly and fluently.
I tried. I stumbled through repeating it, poorly and with terrible pronunciation I’m sure. He knew what he was doing though and kept going. More words. Paragraphs of things I was unable to grasp. No way my mind, already lagging behind, could remember.
As I drove home repeating the one phrase I could almost grasp over and over to myself, trying desperately to force the knowledge into my brain, it occurred to me that we often do the same thing with our horses. We know what it is we are trying to teach. We know what the outcome should look like. In our excitement and enthusiasm we keep pushing more and more of our knowledge to our horses.
Our horses are usually willing, they do try so hard to get along. They do their best to grasp all the things we keep throwing at them. Perhaps if we slowed down a little. If we worked on one thing at a time. Gave them a chance to catch up, to learn that one thing before we moved on to the next. Perhaps we would speed up the training by slowing it down a little.

The phrase I was trying so hard to grasp? It was along these lines. Not quite this, instead it was we will meet again, I think, but this was the closest I could find.: Ah kay wan chee keyn ktay = It was good to see you again!