‘N Hives R Us Too! :-0

Now that Miles and I seem to have the hoof-thing down, his feet have been pretty fab most of the year, we seem to be onto a new frontier.  Well, one that has reared its ugly head again, to be more specific.

Three years ago I bought a sheet from a barn buddy whose horse had worn it a couple of times.  It had been washed. Miles came down with a bad case of hives, wherever the lining went.  So I washed the sheet a few hundred times and put it on him again (DUMB). He had hives once more.  So I gave the sheet to the barn owner, whose horses have been happily wearing it ever since.

I then heard about someone called the “Spit Lady” in Texas.  She uses litmus paper and analyses the saliva of person or animal.  She said Miles had a ‘fungus’ that was affecting his hooves and his skin.  I had nothing to lose, as he was having trouble with both!  She put Miles on an 8-week or so detox of different herbs and supplements.  His hooves improved and there were no more hives episodes.  Until now.

So, this summer, I haven’t been able to determine if there is a weed in the pasture that Miles is munching on (I did see him try to eat Goldenrod when I was hand-grazing him the other day) and he may be somewhat indiscriminate because there is not much grass out there any longer, or if he rolled into or onto something.  But we have had two bouts of hives so far this month, to the tune of almost 1K in vet bills (this has only happened on the weekend, that doesn’t help) and after steriods, benadrine and benadryl, now Miles is on daily doses of equine benadryl.  I give him water-only sponge baths at night, or hose him down, to get all the pollen off.  I only use Phyranna spray on his legs and flybands and Espana Topical Spray on his body, as I know these both work.  And, yes, I am about ready to contact the wonderful “Spit Lady” again and put him on another detox…;-0

Why the blog ‘Hooves R Us’?

Well, let me see…perhaps because since April 2013 — thanks to the wild and rainy spring, plus a round-two storm in June)  I have had almost nothing else on my mind when it comes to my horse.

Let me start at the beginning.  I have wanted to own a horse all my life.  I begged  I whined.  I drew horses obsessively.  My mother, in utter frustration, tossed me a book called “Pamela and the Blue Mare,” thinking that would quench my interest.  I only whined more.

I grew up in a NYC “bedroom suburb” called Fairfield, CT.  My parents were South Dakota transplants — my father was a metallurgist, and was transferred to the East Coast by his Midwestern company.  In Fairfield there is an area called “the Hill”.  That is Greenfield Hill, where great estates with stables nestle in the gently rolling countryside.  The Hill is also replete with wonderful riding trails through the woods.  The Hill also borders the Merritt Turnpike, which happens to be, if I remember correctly, perhaps the first superhyway built.  It was certainly the most beautiful, with thick grassy areas and trees framing it.  The Hill was zoned for horses.  But we lived, not at the top, but at the bottom of the Hill, in very ordinary houses in an unpretentious neighborhood.  So owning a horse and keeping it at home was not possible.

My Mother was terrified of horses.  She wanted me to have nothing to do with them.  My earliest memories, however, are of riding horseback behind my Father, who had been a cowboy, holding on for dear life as we took off at a gallop, stopped on a dime on the wonderful quarter horses we were able to ride when we visited South Dakota.

So now I have owned Miles (some additional details in the “About” page) for three years.  Here we are from the neck up, so to speak…

S