Ms. Louise

What a difference 60 days can make.

Late August 2010, two "A" minis (under 34"tall) were donated to the rescue. Both were severely emaciated, each with a Henneke body score of 1 (and I'm being generous giving them a 1.) and still bore their winter coats, indicative of a heavy parasite load. One, a yearling colt renamed George upon arrival, succumbed to his previous owner's neglect within a week of being donated in spite of the rescue's efforts to stabilize his condition. The other, a 2 year old filly, renamed Louise upon arrival, lived on with no interest in anything beyond her stall. For the first couple weeks, she had no interest in other horses or the volunteers that wanted nothing more than to feed, love and comfort her. I had seen her pictures on the rescue's website and could see the horrific things neglect had done to her tiny body. I made a trip to Frankfort to see for myself if there was anything I could do.

When I first walked through the barn, I walked right past the stall she was in, only catching a glimpse of the tiny life inside. As I returned to the stall, I could not resist entering. She moved away from me as best she could on 3 legs, half dragging, half peg-legging her walk with her left hind leg. It was painful to watch, and seeing the inappropriate angles of her hips and spine made it that much harder for me to walk away. The most prominent issues I was seeing were malnutrition and musculoskeletal dysfunction, which could be corrected, which meant there was a potential project before me, so I had inquired about what her disposition would be.

"She's on the list." I was informed.

'I understand why she would be. Can we take her off the list for a couple weeks? I would like to see if Pfrimmer can help her. If I can't make some progress with her in a couple weeks, I will support the decision to euthanize her.'

I made arrangements to take her home with me, and returned to her stall to groom and assess little Ms. Louise. Still unsure of those of us walking on 2 legs, she retreated from me when I reentered her stall. I took a knee in the mountain of alfalfa at the front of her stall and slowly she approached me. I could see her neck was far more concave than it should have been, and when I palpated it, I felt every single cervical vertebrae. I proceeded to brush the knots, burrs and twigs from her mane and discovered just how long it would take for this simple task when there's more mane than neck. Then I moved on to her tail, so tangled and soiled, so long at least 6" of it dragged the ground behind her. There was no getting through the mess she dragged along behind her and it was decided she would benefit from a bath. Of course, she saw no need for one and proved to be a handful for a lone me to bathe. So with the help of another volunteer, she was thoroughly washed and examined. All of her parasites were internal, with no rain rot or ringworm, no lice, no ticks, nothing externally wrong with her except what was going wrong inside showing through. After her bath, I walked her around to let her graze. As we walked past a group of weekend volunteers, Ms. Louise set her sights on the barn and found a new gear: she pulled back to the barn with enough force to make me jog with her to save doing a face-plant in front of the barn and a group of volunteers.

'Did y'all see that shit! This little lady wants to live!!'

I returned 4 days later to take her home. Lifting her into the back of my Honda Passport, a thought crossed my mind; when was the last time I literally picked up a horse? I think never was the answer, and while this one falls into the toy size category of equine, I think its wrong that I've lifted heavier bales of hay around. So we drove through Indianapolis during evening rush hour traffic, and Ms. Louise seemed to know she was a spectacle. She would nicker at vehicles that lingered near her door, and if I didn't know better, I'd swear she was batting her eyelashes too. Then there were random moments of "awww", where she would put her nose on my shoulder and just breathe into my ear. When we arrived home, I offloaded her into a waiting crowd of people that had heard her story and seen her pictures and knew that I had intended to use massage to help correct her leg problem. They were in shock at her condition and wondered if something as non-invasive as massage could actually help, and wished me the best with her because she had this personality that just shined. Sure, she was a little horse and she had some mobility issues, but a look into those eyes told each person who'd look just what she was: a horse of unfortunate circumstances being given another chance at a healthy life that she wanted to take.

Not even 2 weeks into her intensive therapy and the first video was made of her progress: she cantered. Not for long, but long enough to be captured on video, her canter indicated forward progress. At roughly 3 weeks of therapy, Louise had 4 leg flexion at rest (all four legs folded at all the joints as they would in a horse with no leg problems) and she began to put her stifle in place when it locked out, much in the same way a person might "pop" their knuckles, neck or other joints that "go out". At one month, I returned to Frankfort with Louise. She did not appear to be the same horse I left Frankfort with, nor did she behave like the horse I left with. When we arrived and I opened the back side door, Louise thought that was her cue to exit and she began to walk out. Not ready to see how that would turn out, I got her back inside the truck, closed the door and popped the hatchback.

"Back here baby girl."

She walked to me at the tailgate and I put my arms around her to lift her out of the truck and to the ground. Unlike the dozen or so other times I picked her up and moved her before, this time Louise decided I could get her to the ground faster if she "helped" me by running toward it. Since dropping her would have not only been potentially painful for her (and me as her landing pad), but quite realistically counterproductive to the month of work that was put into correcting her mobility issues; I held on to Louise with everything I had and placed her on the ground. And with an energetic toss of her head, she trotted off to graze. The following day she was seen by the Chiropractor who speculated, based on where Louise was out of adjustment, that it was very possible someone had placed a child on her back. In addition to the farrier's speculation that little Louise had stood in a painful founder stance long enough for her body to hold that distorted position, it was safe to say this little lady had been through the wringer already with only 2 years invested in this life.

November 3. 58 days of Pfrimmer Deep Muscle Therapy, Accupressure and adequate nutrition. I had taken Ms. Louise out for her regular exercise and added a new challenge for her: landscape timbers. In an effort to have Louise engage her back end more precisely and to help her develop the muscles of her hindquarters, I was using landscape timbers as obstacles. She stepped over the first one then jumped the second, third and fourth timbers. I was pleasantly surprised to see that she had the body and the spirit to carry her well above the 4 inch trip hazard (she was clearing the timbers with about 12-18" to spare).

November 5. At 60 days of therapy and multiple videos documenting Louise's progress over the last 2 months, I was presented a question that was almost as difficult to answer as the question of putting her down was back in September:

"What are we going to do with Louise? Are you going to adopt her or should we make her a permanent resident?"

What seemed like it should have been a no-brainer 'of course I'll take her' answer, that answer didn't come. Naturally, I have bonded with Louise, and I've invested not only my time and effort into making her well, but knowing her story and just what it took to get her to where she is today and knowing where she would have been had I not stepped up to exhaust all other options before euthanasia...I love this little filly so much I cannot keep her for myself. For as much as she does for my heart and mind, my self esteem and my confidence in the therapies I offer, she serves the Rescue and its volunteers far more by being her sassy self. She is a tiny reminder to us all here not only why we do what it is that we do, but as a living example of perseverance, determination and how far a will to live can carry a being out of a dark place into the hearts and arms of the many who care.