I finally had the VT vets out to re-check her, and the gist is that the bone cyst in her left stifle is actually WORSE, and her joint is showing signs of degeneration. The meniscus (the fibrous pad that cushions the large bones of the knee joint in horses and peoples) is ragged looking, the joint capsule is thickened and there's a lot of fluid accumulation. This was all determined with Xray and ultrasound.
On top of that, the head vet mention bone cysts are often bi-lateral, so they did a quick Xray of her right (good) stifle and found a matching bone cyst there. Why that one hasn't caused her any problems while the left one is so bad, we'll never know, but it certainly paints a dimmer picture. We did discuss possible further treatments for the left painful joint, and the vet explained that her chances of responding to any intervention were slim, especially since the steroid injection failed to help. In addition to that, the only other possibilities would be upwards of $5K. On no planet does it make sense to spend $5K for a treatment that has a slim chance of helping a horse that is valued at less than half that amount.
So Dax is going into retirement until the joint pain decreases her quality of life, and then she'll have to be put down. She is walking around her very hilly pasture just fine right now, but if she trots on her own you can see how lame she is. I need to find her a new home that is smaller and less hilly, and preferably with calmer friends (right now there area couple of young and very active herd members that keep everybody moving around quite a bit).
This typed explanation isn't conveying the emotions tied up in the situation well....the best analogy I can come up with is trying to find a good nursing home for a parent. Think about it: she has no control over how she is treated, I'm looking for good living accommodations as well as attentive care-takers, and money is a significant hurdle. I guess it's also analogous to trying to find good daycare for a child, but the guilt of trying to find a retirement home for Dax can only be like the guilt of putting a family member in nursing care. Yes, I feel guilty about this because if I only had unlimited funds I'd give her every treatment/surgery possible, give her a stall at the nicest barn I could find very close to me and treat her just the same as if she was being ridden, out of respect for the time I've had to ride her. But instead I'm trying to find the cheapest but safe living arrangement for her since she is no longer ride-able.
This is the dichotomy of horse ownership for a lot of us amateur owners. Equines are neither pets nor livestock. They hover between these two categories in some emotionally complex classification that defies rational decision-making. The connection between myself and Dax rests on riding - without riding, our relationship consists of me delivering treats and her enjoying that but otherwise not really interacting. Equines typically (and there are exceptions to every rule) do not "bond" to their owners the way a dog does. Yes, Dax does recognize me compared to a stranger, and responds differently to me than to other people, but she doesn't love me....she understands me, and she trusts me. It is a trust built up over seven years of weird and sometimes risky adventures.
That's the foundation of our relationship: that when ever I would get on her back, she was trusting me with her life, and I was trusting her with mine. There is a profound level of trust build between a horse and rider that many take for granted - take a look at a bucking bronco if you don't remember what horses are capable of and how they should respond to a predator climbing up on their back. The trust they show a rider when they calmly allow that rider on their back goes against thousands of years of evolution.
That trust goes the other way too. I've been thrown and dragged by enough other horses (and pissy little school ponies) to be cautious with any horse I get on. I'm not one of those riders who was in the saddle in utero and is fearless....I started riding in highschool. I'm well aware of how far down it is from a horse's back and how hard that ground really is (and how landing in "soft" sand is actually like having sandpaper rubbed down your skin). But Dax has repeatedly demonstrated her sensible nature and through her trust in me, her willingness to calmly handle unfamiliar situations. I trust her to stop and let me know when she's scared or unsure rather than freak out and take off, or rear, or buck. Not that she hasn't reared before or bucked a couple of times....she's a horse. But she's done those things a total of three times (yes, I can remember and count exactly when those things happened) and I know why they happened. After all this time together, I understand her responses, what she can handle and what she can't. I can trust her to be safe for me to ride bareback in a halter.
With riding, she's like a pet: a healthy emotional and physical outlet. Without riding, Dax becomes livestock....not exactly serving much purpose.
I guess the best description of my relationship with Dax is like those friendships that are based on a shared experience or interest, but are transient. Sometimes those friendships can be very deep and intense, but when the commonality is gone, there's little left to foster further friendship. That's exactly like Dax and I - without riding, we don't have much in common. But the memory of that relationship, the meaning of that relationship, is not diminished by it's ending. I am still responsible for her well being, a commitment I made when I bought her. In the same way I would never abandon a dog b/c I was moving and finding a pet-friendly apt was hard, I will not abandon Dax b/c she can no longer be ridden.
This is not a simple question of selling my beloved horse b/c I can no longer afford her....she can't go on to a loving family that will ride and care for her b/c she's broken. It's become clear she'll never be able to be ridden again. In addition to this she should never be bred, b/c bone cysts have a mysterious but subtle genetic link, so retiring to a broodmare farm isn't an option. She's become the kind of horse that will get handed around if sold/given away, likely end up at an auction and ultimately shipped to Canada or Mexico where horse slaughter is still legal. While I actually do not have a problem with HUMANE slaughter, it is very clear that current shipping, handling and slaughter of horses is FAR from humane in most cases. I refuse to blindly hand her off to some unknown person pretending this scenario couldn't possibly happen to her. If it can happen to a Kentucky Derby winner, it can damn sure happen to my broken little pony.
So I'm looking into options, and there are some good ones out there. They are just few, underfunded and usually have a waiting list b/c there are so many broken horses out there looking for safe and respectful retirement. The control freak in me is loathe to hand over ownership so I can snatch her out of a bad arrangement if necessary, but the married responsible side of me knows I'm not in a financial position to be picky.
I'll keep you posted.
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