Karly - with a "K" That is, Ryan Day Karly Lyn to be exact....R.I.P....

Many of you already know, but for those who don't, much has happened over the last 12 months. I have not blogged much, but did tell you all about my blessed Karly (with a K). Unfortunately, on Saturday, March 13 - just two days before I had surgery to repair a torn rotator cuff - Karly died. She was a young and tender 13.

I got the dreaded call...."R, Karly is down. Hurry up and get here". I ran~ I was there in about 4 minutes...about as long as it took me to throw on my mucking boots and rain coat and speed there. It was POURING rain for the third day in a row and bitter cold. When I got there, there was only the barn owner's 18 year old son, Justin, keeping Karly on her feet. I took over. However, she was throwing me around - literally - like a rag doll. My sister Terri, Raechyl and I did our best to keep her on her feet. She would pull me anywhere she wanted while I desperately tried to keep her on her feet. 2000 pounds versus 140 pounds - you do the math. It was NOT pretty. You can't let a colicking horse go down...you walk them and walk them to prevent them from going down. This went on for over an hour until the owner and help arrived. The vet was not far behind. We had SO much medicine on board that she should have been paralyzed, but the pain was so intense it barely affected her. We had no choice but to race her to the hospital.

In the end, Karly lost the battle at nearly 9 pm that evening. It is something I could never describe to anyone what it is like to see a 2 ton creature that 6 hours ago was lively and fine covered in mud (my white horse) from head to toe, writhing in pain, unable to stand, lose the battle of her life. The 2000 pound nearly 19 hand beautiful white Karly staring me in the eye on the floor of the stall in the hospital begging me to make the pain stop....and I could do NOTHING but watch. I prayed, we medicated her with enough medication to put four horses out of pain and she still writhed in pain until she could finally take no more. And at about 9 pm that evening, she died.

She was my first horse. Yes, I have Buddy, but he is leased and isn't technically mine though we are all he knows...Karly and I took months, hours each and every day to build a friendship...a relationship where she could trust me. One where, in the end, she would come the minute she saw me in the pasture. One where she trusted me, and I trusted her. One where she knew I was hers, and she mine. One that, unfortunately, ended before it began. My Karly...gone.

I had her cremated. She is now in my living room, a small token of the first horse I ever actually owned...the first one I took the time each day with to build a trusting friendship that was give and take. She gave love like no other horse I know. Her giant black eyes. She would put her nostril up to my mouth to smell my breath...she would inhale long and stare right into my eyes as if to say, "Yup, it's you allright. The one I trust". I cut her mane that night. I have the braid on her box of ashes with a frame and three pictures of me and her. Me and my Karly.

Karly never did get to come home. Now, I look out back at my new house and see the barn that Karly should have called home. I see the pasture out side my house that Karly should be in. But the Lord did not see fit for that to be. I have learned these recent days that I must trust in the Lord. His plans are best. So for now, I have only a braid, a box and a frame to look at, but inside I have the love of a giant gently draft horse that changed this girls life forever.

My Karly....She is very sorely missed.

Until next time...

Carly....That's how much I knew about her....

Her name is actually KARLY (not Carly). Her actual name is Ryan Day Karly Lyn. Now, I do not pretend to know why any breeder would put that many names on ANY horse, but they do. They are usually some combination of the sire and the mare. In this case, it is that and then some. In any event, I convinced Eric to take her as a rescue...an "easy keep" as we horse people like to say. That is a horse that requires not much of anything. Karly stays out to pasture and that is it. $200 a month in boarding and that is it. Oh yes, quarterly hoof trimming ($60) and 1 annual vet visit. No big one, right?

Guess again.

Within the first week we owned her, she colicked. That is what happens when horses get sick. They cannot throw up so if they get sick, their intestines and colon get backed up, twisted or something in between and it can cause them to die. Many times, they do. And the process is fast. I got a call from the barn owner that Karly was "down" (not a good thing). When horses are down, they are sick. Not that they never lay down, but she was clearly in pain. When this happens, you call the vet and try to get the horse up and walking. I got there as soon as I could and spent the next hour, while waiting for the vet, walking her around to try to keep her on her feet. This is protocol with colick. As soon as I would stop walking her, she would go down. We would get her up and repeat the process. Finally, I knew she was just going to collapse so I brought her into a stall, let her go down and prayed for the vet to get there.

She did. She examined Karly and made a determination that she had a blockage. We got some meds on board and "tubed" her. This is sticking a hose down the nose into the stomach and flushing with an oil/water combo to determine if there was a twist in her gut. If the water comes flushing out her other nose, she has one and we would have to put her down. She did not have a twist so we sedated her and spend the next 24 hours walking her every 2 hours and keeping her well sedated. The long and short of it is she made it. It took three days but she is back to her old gentle self.

However, our "easy keep" that would only cost us $200 a month ended up costing us nearly a thousand dollars the first week we owned her. She is still my gentle giant. I love her and I love my husband who works so hard for me to keep her.

Until next time...

Carly....

Carly. My new horse. She is a Percheron. That meant nothing to me, either...until I saw one for myself. They are a draft horse. What's that, right! Well, let's call her a work horse. A carriage horse. Not quite a Clydsdale, but not far from it. She is dappled, white and grey...a real beauty. She stands about 18+ hands at her withers (shoulders) which makes her about 6 feet tall at her shoulder and according to Eric, add another two feet on for her head and she stands at her tallest point, about 8 feet tall. Her feet are the size of luncheon plates - literally. To put it all into perspective, a normal horses foot is the size of a tea cup saucer. So, with her proportion described, I will tell my story.

I have spent the better part of the last couple weeks trying to befriend Carly. At first I would just go out to the field and stand there with my hands behind my back (always with treats in my pockets) and wait for her to come to me. Let her smell me, size me up and then I would offer her a treat. If I reached to pet her she would back up...very timid. But as the days passed, she stayed a little longer each time, came a little quicker and spent more time looking at my eyes and resting her head on my head (it is quite a heavy head, but if she was willing to use me for a head rest, I was willing to let her). A few days ago when I reached out to pet her, she let me. As a matter of fact, she let me for more than 15 minutes before she began to back away. When I returned the next day, again after some time, I reached out to pet her and she again allowed me to. Now mind you, if you want to befriend a horse, you need three things...1) love 2) patience and 3) treats and lots of them. I reward her for coming to me. I reward her for looking when I call her name. I reward her for allowing me to pet her...and if she goes away and I call her AND she returns, she gets treats for that. Essentially she is associating me with kindness and treats. Both of which she needs.

Tonight, I went there and took her halter, which is the thing you put over their head to lead them around, and went out to the pasture. She came right to me....reward. I tried to get the halter on her and she turned away...no reward. She came back to me...reward. I tried again and she backed away...no reward. The third time I tried she allowed me to do it, but a problem that I hadn't considered arose. Her head is taller than I can reach at a full arm stretch so I couldn't get the thing OVER her big head. I pushed and shoved it back over her ears until it slipped into place....BIG rewards for her for that one! Then I led her out of the pasture for the first time (she has been out of the pasture, but never with me). We tied her on cross ties in the barn which was pretty funny in itself. She took up the entire barn...front to back and darn near side to side! More rewards. Now Buddy is in the stall in the barn so now, simply by virtue of my being there and having treats, each time Carly earned one, Buddy got one. Which made him so happy! I was grooming her. She has fungus on her right back leg which was bleeding so I treated that. I groomed her and honest to Betsy, I could not groom her mane or back so I had to get a step stool and stand on that to groom her. But the whole point of this blog was to describe what happened when we gave her treats...which apparently I hadn't noticed out at pasture ever before. She dreuls....BAD. I went out to my car to get a mane comb and when I got back to the barn it looked like someone threw up. I said to Raechyl, "Did Carly throw up?" (for any horse lover out there you see the idiotic question here!). Rae says "Mom, horses can't throw up". So I said, "Did someone else throw up?" Rae says, "No, it is Carly dreuling!"....NO WAY! It was like three PUDDLES of I swear, throw up! Yellowish, slimy, puddled and splattered like throw up. Carly did it! The owners son was there and Justin says, "Carly is girgitating"... I said, "Don't you mean, regirgitating?" He laughs and says, "No, I mean girgitating!"...I finally got it and laughed. Carly is like a Newfoundland dog. The bigger the breed of dog, the bigger the jowel and the bigger the jowel, the more they dreul. I guess the same holds true with horses. Man, Carly is a complete slob! It was unbelievable. So, now Raechyl and her friends will not give Carly treats. "No, thank you, Mrs. Thieringer" they say. As for me, ah, what's a little spit between horse and owner!

Until next time...