Bowen, Bowen, Bowen, keep dem dogies Bowen

Bowen Therapy. Ever hear of it? Me neither. Apparently it's a "gentle, non-invasive therapy that helps the whole body naturally rebalance, repair, and heal itself". A friend of mine on Facebook was also a friend at the Arabian show barn where I used to board, and is a practitioner of this new holistic therapy. A friend at the barn (current barn) asked her to take a look at her daughter's horse, because apparently he'd been bolting and bucking and generally endangering the girl's life.

I made a point of stopping by the barn at the time of their appointment, as I was curious, and wanted to see my old friend again. She worked with the horse, it looked like massage with a little chiropractic involved. So I went on out and rounded up Quzqo to bring back in for spa day.

When their session was done, the Bowen therapist came over to visit, and admire the horse (of course). Immediately she was struck by his "energy"....it was apparently radiating off of him like heat waves from blacktop pavement. She held her hands out and just "felt" all that "energy". I was a little amused because right then Quz had his head hanging down, his ears sort of at half-staff, and a hind foot cocked, probably just waiting to be escorted to his dinner.

She ooed and aahed, and put her hand to her face and exclaimed how HOT they were, just HOT from all that hot Arabian Energy...she touched my arm and yes, her hands were hot, but it was summer after all. But hey, I've witnessed some pretty unexplained things with horses over the years, to who am I to say yeah or nay (or neigh).

She tried to touch Himself on the neck, UP went the head, out bulged the eyes, No Touchee!!! She backed off and massaged the air above his back for a few seconds, keeping an eye on his head, looking for some signs of relaxation like licking and chewing or a big yawn. He obliged with a huge jaw-cracker of a yawn, which she celebrated as a "release" of tension and anger. Well, he was yawning when I brought him in from the pasture... maybe that was a tense situation he needed release from, I don't know.

Well, we caught up a bit, and she left, and I threw the horse back in his stall.

Couple of days later I came back to the barn, and as I was leading Quz back to his stall, just for shits and giggles, I stopped him, and put my palms against my face...okay, they were warmish. Got that. Then I held them about six inches away from Quzqo's side about where his heart would be... No B.S. now, I SWEAR I felt hot heat just pouring off of him. Like a radiator! It tingled! I put my hands on my face again, they were hot!! I touched the horse himself, his fur was cool, since we were in the shade. None of that blast furnace heat I felt seconds ago.

As I said, I've witnessed stranger things in the equine world, so...there might be something.

I didn't think Quzqo was in any particular pain, he's certainly not arthritic, hasn't sustained any injury other than his leg cut (which is still healing nicely, it was deeper than I originally thought, but the joint isn't involved). Maybe he torqued himself bucking me off, other than that, he hadn't exhibited anything out of the ordinary.

But when my friend at the barn scheduled another session with the therapist, she (the therapist) emailed me to see if I'd be interested in having Quzqo done. She thought maybe she could help with his hyper sensitivity (No Touchee!!!) and spooking behavior. I know what benefits massage, TTouch therapy and chiropractic helped my old horse, Tezlu, and Quz won't let me massage him, so maybe this might help out. Why the heck not?

So yesterday we had our appointment. She worked first with the show horse, lightly massaging him here and there, stretching this and that. The horse seemed to enjoy it thoroughly...VERY much, if you get my drift (he's a boy... hint hint), and at the end his head and ears were drooping, his tail was swishing slowly, and he looked like the most contented horse on the planet. I thought to myself 'if she can get Quz into that state, I'm sold!'

I brought Quzqo out of his stall where he'd been busy pitching a hissy because there was NO FOOD in there! He marched amicably down the aisle, and into the arena, probably wondering what his Monkey was up to now.

Uh oh, there was another Monkey in the arena. In his experience, that usually means an injection in some part of his body, and I could see he was tensed up, not trusting this new Monkey one bit.

She did some long-distance massage, again remarking on the amount of energy radiating out of him (he does crackle some days, for sure!), and showed me how to calm him by repetitively pulling my hand down the lead rope without touching the actual rope...somehow pulling the energy out of the horse and communicating like another horse. I refrained from making a remark about incense and aromatherapy, maybe some Yanni on the radio. But the horse seemed to enjoy it, and curled his neck around to snuffle at her, at which she pleaded "don't let him bite me!" I guess that's a common reaction she's gotten in the past.

He tolerated that for a few more seconds before backing away, like "Nuh uh, that's enough of that!". She repeated it, he enjoyed it for a bit, then backed away. At this she got kind of misty eyed and emotional, and proclaimed "he's saying it's nice you want to be my friend, but why would anybody want to be MY friend? I don't deserve it."

Course I teared up as well, my poor horsie! He doesn't have any horse friends, hanging out by himself in the field, and avoids the others in the pasture (especially that blue roan that pins his ears at him). My poor, poor boy!

So we kept reassuring him with the rope-stroke (oo, naughty!), and when he backed away, she'd go on to something else. His withers were tight, his poll was tight, his back was tight, he dragged his hind legs (he's always done that, I chalked it up to laziness...too much effort to lift those feet). So for the duration she massaged when he allowed it, massaged long-distance when he didn't, let him take breaks where I walked him around, back to rope-stroking and massage and forehead-tapping (he's supposed to like that she said, and he didn't draw away, so maybe he does). We lost count of the "releases" through huge gaping yawns, at least 20, maybe more. Plenty of licking and chewing, plenty of nibbling and nuzzling (and I didn't even have any treats).

At least three times I heard the bones in his neck and spine "adjust" with loud pops, though she was barely touching him (unlike the chiropractor with his mallet and rubber chisel). Things were progressing very well, until the inevitable happened.

The barn owner started wheeling the hay cart around. Game Over, man! It's DINNER!!! No, he wasn't agitated because he was stressed, he was stressing because all the other horses were getting hay and he'd starve to death trapped in the arena with the funny rope-stroking monkeys!!

I walked him and tried to find a spot in the arena where he couldn't see the delectable second cutting hay being handed out to all and sundry. The therapist worked a bit more, and once dinner service was over, Quzqo focused back on the task at hand, namely lipping at anything he could reach.

Put a gun to my head, I still couldn't say exactly what-all she did, but a few things she pointed out afterwards were different. His back looked flatter, he didn't quite have that deep a dip behind the withers that he had been developing. His butt was looser and flobbier, he had actual floppy man-boobs, being all relaxed on a muscular level. And his right fore hoof now looked at a longer angle than the left, because his shoulder was more relaxed.

I'm not supposed to ride him for 48 hours, so I'm looking forward to seeing what's different. Heck, the Rx is I'm not even supposed to TOUCH him for 48 hours, just the barest minimum such as putting on a halter, or putting Swat on his cut. No petting, no patting, no brushing, no full-body hugs. That will be harder on ME than him. But we don't want to disrupt the healing of the nerves and muscles. Of course he's going to flop himself on the ground and roll and roll, that won't mess up his fascia, but if I were to pat him on the neck...

So we shall see what happens, and if there's marked improvement in his behavior. Apparently the other horse had been dramatically changed from a bolting, fearful menace to a proudly cantering, on-the-bit paragon of equine performance. Don't quite color me skeptical just yet.

For more information on Bowen therapy, there's plenty online information!

First Hurdle Crossed

Finally my back/legs/ribs were at a state that I figured I might be able to at least sit on Quzqo, more to jump the mental hurdle than the physical one. It helped that it was 89 degrees out, and the horse was a limp dishrag energy-wise, ha ha!

There was a family of boarders riding horses in the indoor arena, which would also be good; he'd have company and maybe not feel tense. He wasn't happy when I put the pad on his back (but he never is), I tried some of that hands-off massage and he dropped his head and started licking and chewing!

*I* needed some hands-off massage to calm ME down. But he stood still for me to get on instead of his usual antics (too hot to be naughty), and took off walking before I got my right foot in the stirrup (we need to work on THAT next).

He was pretty much normal (why wouldn't he be?), only once his head shot down and I was afraid he was going to buck (lol), but he was just trying to snarf up some hay on the ground next to a hay wagon in the arena. We walked around, dodging the other horses (dang people who can't steer a QH, lol!). After a few minutes we jog trotted, and only issue was the tweaking of my lower back. And the horse was breaking into a sweat, so we called it quits, I didn't want to torque my spine or something. It was kinda sore, but at least I Did It! And wearing jeans and boots in 89 degree weather isn't that great either, lol!

Next step will be to ride him in the outdoor ring, then maybe go around the fenceline. But not 'til my back is 100% good (or at lest 90%)

His knee wound is slowly healing, it's oozing clear red stuff, but long as it's not pus I guess. It was worse than I first estimated apparently, but at least it IS healing.

2010 Speckle Update

It's that time of year again!!!!

Remember 2009:

And now, the 2010 version:

Not a whole lot of change. I guess now that the legs are pretty much white, that's it for anything dramatic until one day those speckles on the shoulders fill into a nice bloody shoulder.


The right side, 2009:


And the right side in 2010:
The right side seems more speckly overall. And his Redneck Trail Horse bridle path is growing out so nice, I think by Christmas it'll be as long as the rest of his mane (1" a month seems to be his hair growth rate)

Until next year!

Bucked Off Back Into Love

It's been 11 days or so since I got bucked off, and I can ALMOST walk without pain, the bruises and scabs are fading, the rope burn on my finger is scabbed over nicely, why, there's almost no limp, almost!

Managed to get out to check on the horse only a couple of times because, well, it hurt like bloody hell to walk or bend over to pick up a curry comb or brush, and let's just say Quzqo hasn't been my most favorite horse in the world recently.

Yesterday I stopped by after work, and enjoyed a 3/4 mile hike out into the pasture to catch him and bring him back to the barn, my sciatica was singing "Ave Maria" in a not-nice way by the time we returned, but I was able to ignore the pain by fixating on the amazing 3-4" long bloody scrape/cut Quzqo now sports on his left fore knee!!

Can't say when that happened, probably that morning, judging from the cleanliness of the wound, and the amount of dried blood encrusted on the front of his cannon. But it didn't look deep, it was dry, no swelling, no limp (lucky horse), so I washed off the dried stuff while he bent down and mashed his goobery wet horse lips into the top of my head.

Today I stopped out, feeling much better sciatica-wise, and happily he was close in by the gate, so no hike up and down the hilltops. The leg was pretty much unchanged, and while I bent down to poke and prod, I felt those big, warm, goobery wet horse lips nibbling on my good work shirt on my back..

He's been acting like a sad puppy these past two days, maybe he is in pain (welcome to the club, buddy), but he's back to being that Quzqo I fell in love with on Day One. Mr. Pocket Pony, all sweet and cute and nibbly (I know, nibbling is bad horse manners), arching his neck and peering at me through his forelock with those big chocolate brown eyes...I melted like a starlite mint on a hot summer day.

He's back to being my Big Ole' Guy, my Cutey-kins, my Mr. Cute-iful. He didn't mean to throw me into the hard packed gravel driveway from a height of 6 feet, causing me 11 days of constant pain, no, and I gave him a big hug, careful to keep my feet away from his hooves, and making sure nothing was around to make him spook and throw me into the wall. He's my horse, and though others may think I'm insane for not selling him and taking up a safer pasttime, like hang gliding, I don't care. He's my boy!

I Kill You!!!

Haven't ridden Quzqo very much these past few weeks, it's been too frickin' HOT, and one thing I've found as I get older; discomfort isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Sweating to death in blue jeans and leather boots while sitting astride some 102 degree furry beast in 90 degree weather no longer appeals to me, neither does the resulting blisters in tender bits of my anatomy, and other accompanying rashes and discomforts.

So we've pretty much just pottered around the barn property, but only on cooler days (say, low 80's), riding the property line, which is a nice 20 minute ride or so, with opportunity to canter, trot, spook at sparrows, and confront scary Belgians.

I've driven Quzqo a few times, but that's not the same as riding.

So this weekend the weather was perfect, I actually had time, and even rested all morning so I'd have the energy to actually take Himself for a real life bona-fide Trail Ride off the property for the first time in a month or more!!

Quz was unusually mellow, temps were in the mid-70's, I thought he'd be more energetic with the cooler weather, but no, he was happy to just plod along as I led him in from the pasture. Since we were going off the property, I pulled out all the stops: trail saddle, breast collar, bear bells, and since they'd mown the hay next door, I used his bitless bridle (otherwise he'd be diving for the grass and I couldn't do a thing about it with that bridle).

Our ride started out slowly, he was just dragging along, doing all he could to avoid leaving. I tried to tell him that the longer he took to walk away from the barn, the longer he'd BE away from the barn, so it'd be to his benefit to actually walk FASTER!

The neighbor behind the property now has an antique hay mower parked right by the edge where we ride, I don't know if that was deliberate, or just a coincidence. Of course Quz wanted no part of it, but we took a 20 yard detour around the thing and once past he was back to dragging along like he was 21 instead of 12.

We didn't go anywhere too exciting, just our usual route down Fewins Road, up Reynolds, across Bronson Lake into the State Forest where they'd done logging last year. There were still massive piles of logs along the two-track, but it was nice to see the green shoots emerging from the stumps. Nature will find a way!

We did a fair bit of cantering, trotting, met a couple of dirt bikers puttering up the trail, made it to the little stream I love, turned around, cantered and trotted back, Quzqo was near golden perfection, such a wonderful sweet lope, why he couldn't ever manage that in a show ring, I'll never know. We cut through the woods that had been logged this Spring, and thankfully the local rednecks had cleared the cutting debris for their ATVs, so we could ride that trail once again.

Saw a deer skull picked clean by Nature, made a mental note to come back for it another day when I have saddlebags.

Contentedly we made our way back towards the barn, stopping to feast on some alfalfa, or for the horse to take a pee, just admiring the scenery and fresh air and lovely day, and congratulating myself on having such a wonderful time, despite my earlier reservations.

We were walking up the hard dirt and gravel driveway to the barn, I was thinking about where to stop to dismount.

Quzqo EXPLODED into a spectacular BUCK and I flew out of the saddle like a jack-in-the box!

I had time to think "this is going to hurt!" and SLAMMED into the concrete-hard dirt of the driveway, knocking every bit of wind from my lungs. The pain was indescribable, not that I could have described it, as I was trying very very hard to breathe, but couldn't. It might have been 15 seconds before I was able to inhale at last, and was too busy concentrating on how freaking much PAIN I was in to more than glance up at the horse, and saw him standing by the open barn door, looking at me.

I managed to roll over onto my stomach, as my left hip was aflame with pain, and tried to breathe. Within seconds I heard gravel crunching behind me and an SUV pulled up. An older couple got out and came to my assitance, apparently grandparents of one of the boarders (this day was Fair day, and everyone was at the fairgrounds with the horses, and that girl had forgotten her western bridle). They helped me up once I determined nothing was broken (believe me, I know what THAT feels like), and we watched Quzqo wander into the barn, down the aisleway, and into his stall, where the man reported he was eating his grain.

Gee, thanks Quz.

I managed to shake off the shock I was in, found I could walk as long as there was a wall to lean against, we got the horse untacked and the tack put away, I shuffled slowly to my car, and as I drove home could feel my butt swelling by the minute.

Let's just say I now have a deep purple bruise the size of a Medium Pizza on my left butt cheek, and very sore everything else from hip to neck. Nice deep abrasians on my left elbow where I landed, and a huge rein-burn on my right hand. Oh yes, and new and exquisite forms of pain whenever I move.

Don't know WHY he exploded like that, my guess is maybe a fly bit him someplace ultra-tender. I've owned that horse for over 6 years now, and NEVER EVER had he done that. Needless to say MY confidence is shaken to the core, it'll be a while before I can physically ride, never mind the mental obstacle now in front of me.

And why do I keep falling off onto hard painful surfaces. Just once I'd like to fall in a deep fluffy snowbank!

I'll see if I can't hobble out to the barn tonight to check on Quz, he was a filthy sweaty mess when I left him, but I didn't really care, he could rot in his own filth as far as I was concerned at that point.

It's important to trust your horse, and him trust you. Let's hope I can overcome this.

p.s. And yes, I was wearing my helmet. This is the PERFECT example of why you should ALWAYS wear a helmet when you ride, because, well, you never know what will happen!!!

Take That, You Maggot!

Back when I first got Quzqo (back in 2004!), I was delighted to find out he was easier than anything to paste worm. Ole Tezlu, my previous horse, was nigh impossible, he'd literally hide his head in the corner of the stall (I can't see you, you don't exist), I'd have to haul his head around, then he'd clamp his lips tight, so I'd have to force the end of the worming syringe in between his iron lips and get it towards the back of his tongue. Then once I squirted the worming paste in, he'd refuse to swallow it, and stand there, lips clamped together, melting wormer oozing from the corners, giving me the stink-eye and sulking.

But with Quzqo, who was young and ignorant, he took the syringe like a dream, swallowed the paste, then had an attitude of "well, now what shall we do?"

But then the barn owner decided they'd take over worming all the boarders' horses, so the horses would be on the same schedule, and that would eliminate the possibility of one irresponsible boarder neglecting their horse, and then spreading worms throughout the pasture. Well, okay, I guess, it's not my barn after all. A couple of times a year an extra $9 or $10 charge would show up on my board bill, which meant Quz got wormed. Okay.

Well, hate to say it, but it's been years since I saw that charge, and I can't imagine (the way things are in this economy) that he'd been being wormed for free. I know that these days people no longer worm every 8 weeks, instead maybe in the spring and the fall, or only after a fecal test. But Quz is getting ribby, and the top of his tail is all frazzled, like they get when they've been rubbing their butts on things to scratch an itch...a classic sign of worms!

So tonight I stopped at TSC and splurged on a tube of no-brand Ivermectin (hey, it was $5 cheaper than Zimecterin, and had the exact same stuff in it, just no ad campaign), and headed to the barn.

I don't know how they'd wormed him in the past. I know how they deal with horses for vaccinations or Coggins tests, and I know the barn owner's impatience with fussy little horses, so I could only imagine Quz being cornered in his stall, having his ear pulled to subdue him, having nasty wormer shoved in his mouth... so I expected a full blown Drama Queen performance this evening!

Surprise is a good technique, so I went into the pasture and brought him to the gate, with the wormer in my jacket pocket. Before we left the pasture, I brought out the syringe, he sniffed it curiously (it did smell good...apple flavored!), but as soon as I raised it towards him, UP went the head, high as he could go, and he started backing away. But hey, we had the entire pasture (maybe 20 acres or so), lots of room, and he's not that tall, so I was able to squidge the end of the syringe into his mouth, and squirt the goo onto the back of his tongue. He made faces and smacked his lips, and allowed me to rub his forehead and pat his neck and heap further praise upon his wonderful Self for being so good!!

I was surprised myself, I was expecting all sorts of theatrics! Maybe Bob hadn't misused him for previous wormings, or maybe it'd been so long he forgot, or maybe he trusted me. But I feel better now that he's full of poison, hopefully killing any uninvited interlopers.

He got a reward of grazing on the two-foot tall grass by the barn while I played with the barn corgis. I probably won't put him on an 8 week rotation of worming, but at least this should clean him out for now.

Law and Order

Looks like it's going to be quite a deal this weekend, the "West Shore Academy" for "Michigan Association of Mounted Police Patrols". All the empty stalls had been cleaned and bedded with fresh sawdust, with little name cards on the stall doors (at least 4 different Mounted Units from 4 different counties so far, I didn't go into the new section of the barn).

There were two gooseneck rigs parked in the side pasture when I drove up, and half a dozen horses running loose in the outdoor arena. I'd tacked up Quz and took him for a little trail ride around the property (his canter is sooooo sweet!) (he had a major spook-fit over two scary ROBINS in the grass). By the time we got back there were two smaller rigs parked in the pasture. I imagine by tomorrow afternoon it'll really be hoppin'!

I heard one of the folks mention "flares" as I rode by...uh-oh.

When I was getting Quz, I noted his pasture is pretty far away from them, with plenty of hills to muffle any noise/explosions/helicopters, so he should have a pretty okay time of it.

Fun to see what-all's going on by tomorrow!

I padlocked my tack cupboards just in case....barn full of strangers you know. Of course they're supposedly law enforcement, but still...