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Articles written by Barb Fenwick

Copyright notice: No part of these stories or articles can be used

without permission by the author, Barb Fenwick

Author Barb Fenwick is a horse communicator/trainer and Freedom horsemanship instructor.
Barb and her husband George operate Seasons Equestrian Center, in Spruce Woods Park, MB.
Barb offers lessons and camps teaching, mind, body and soul connection with horses. 

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  He Took Wings
It was quite possibly the saddest day of my life. Still, the sky was blue, the birds sang, poplar tree leaves fluttered in the gentle afternoon breeze on this beautiful July day in 2004. I moved robotically through the morning, doing chores and watching the clock. I walked out to get Cherokee, my 16 yr old appaloosa horse a short distance from the barn. We slowly made our way to his stall. The other horses followed wondering what was up, or they already knew.Why was she feeding us this time of day? Hmmm…something wrong here they might have been thinking. Cherokee didn’t seem to question my motives as I dished him out a huge feed of oats and a double size feeding of sweet alfalfa hay, which were items certainly not on his regular diet.  In the distant pasture I could hear the tractor working. Not a comforting sound. An hour later the sound of a truck engine made my heart climb higher into my throat. It was time.
I led Cherokee and his best friend, my spotted Tennessee Walking Horse, Spirit out to pasture and stopped on the crest of a small hill, a hill well secluded and chosen with care. The truck climbed the hill and parked. Wayne, our local veterinarian stepped out into this beautiful day. Our good friend and neighbor Dave had stopped his tractor a few yards away and now stood beside his pickup truck, his old dog Sam near him. He had finished digging the huge hole. It would fit a horse.My husband George stood with the two other men, as we prepared, all in our own way to deal with and accept what we were there to do.

I would take my last walk with Cherokee, down into the giant hole and say goodbye to the horse that was really too young to die, but had suffered long enough. His foundered feet could no longer carry him happily across the pastures. His lungs, which had been damaged from heaves, a bronchial disease, made each breath labored and painful.

I spoke to him softly through tears as we said our farewell. He stood quietly as Wayne injected the liquid that would swiftly and humanely end his life. Spirit watched from above, my husband by his side holding his lead rope. Spirit’s goodbye to Cherokee was silent to our ears.It was equally a sad day for Dave, who had chosen this day and place to also put to rest his faithful aged dog. They were laid to rest together.

Spirit and I walked toward home. The rest of the herd stood nearby in a meadow in an adjacent pasture, they beckoned to us. I removed Spirit’s halter and lead rope and fully expected him to rush to greet them over the fence. He did not. Step for sad step we trudged home together. When the pain in my heart was too heavy, I would stop and lean on him for emotional support. Our short trip across the field was a journey into each other’s mind and heart. We mirrored our pain and sorrow.

I reflected later on my times with Cherokee. I bought him as a three yr old. We had incredible great times together for nine years. Then, as my horse numbers were getting too high, and a local area resident offered to buy him, I decided to let him go to a new home. He assured me Cherokee would be well cared for and have a good active future. It didn’t happen. For four years I would see Cherokee in pasture as I passed by the farm where he lived. He wasn’t ridden much and as time went on I could see signs of him not receiving much attention or care either. A combination of poor quality feed and not maintaining his health or hoof care took its toll. One spring day in 2002 I stopped along the road and went over to have a good look at him. I cried. He was a mess. His breathing labored and his feet so incredibly long he could hardly walk. I finally persuaded the owner to sell him back to me and so began our last two years together.

He was never going to be sound again, but I wanted to help his life be comfortable, however long it lasted. Special shoeing and pads, medication for pain and to aid his breathing all helped for a while. Then the pain became so unbearable we could no longer shoe him, his breathing very labored, his sides heaving with every breath. Medications no longer took away the pain. This is how we came to this day on “Cherokee Hill”, burying a good pony and an old black dog.

Summer passed into winter. My thoughts returned to my studies. Here at Seasons Ranch, I spend the winters, my less active part of the year, studying different aspects of horse training and animal communication and behavior. It’s a reflective time, a time when my guest ranch and training center are resting under a peaceful blanket of snow.

The pasture becomes my cross-country ski trails. The sun shone stunningly over the hills, this particular quiet mid winter day. I decided to take a break from my studies and strap on my skis for a trip around the property. I had gone only a short distance and was near Cherokee Hill when I heard the urgent twittering of a Chickadee. It buzzed over my head and landed on a branch almost within arms reach. It sat there chattering as I paused, then flew on up ahead on the trail, still in the shadow of Cherokee Hill. There, it seemed to wait for me and again swooped over my head and landed on a branch so close I could have touched it. The woods and hills were otherwise silent, the only life apparent were this persistent bird and I. I was awestruck as it sat there chirping loudly to me as if to convey an urgent message. Finally it flew off. A quarter mile further, there again, a Chickadee, this time almost landing on my shoulder and sweeping past to land on a fencepost nearby, perching again to sing briefly, then disappearing across the field.
It was truly amazing, but I didn’t give it much more thought as I continued to break trail with my skis.

My friend Barb came the following day to snowshoe and we followed this same trail. When we came to this same place on the trail, where the Chickadee appeared for the last time I spotted something in the snow directly on our path ahead. As we approached I recognized it as a birds nest. What was a bird’s nest doing in the middle of a field? No trees were around, where did it come from? Barb said, “ pick it up, maybe its good luck or something”.
I absentmindedly put it in my backpack and we continued. I had forgotten all about it until the next day as I emptied my pack. I pulled out the nest and casually examined it. What I discovered in the nest brought me to an incredible realization and made me gasp! There, artfully interwoven in the fine fibers of the nest were horse hairs. Not just any horse hairs, but Cherokee’s mane or tail hair. You see, of all my horses, only he had the golden tinge to his hair, distinct as the spots on his rump. My other horses all have black or white tail or mane hair.

It suddenly dawned on me that my three visits from the Chickadee had very special meaning. Finding a nest with Cherokee’s hair woven into it in the middle of a field, on my path, was in my mind not a coincidence, it was a message.  A message from a very special horse to tell me he was just fine. It lightened my heart. He wasn’t really gone, he just took wings.

Barb Fenwick

FOUNDER – A LIFE OR DEATH MATTER

When you’re raised with horses and have them around you most of your life, you can expect to have to deal with their health issues over the years. We always learn something from these issues and what’s equally important is to share how you managed them so others can learn from the experience. I never thought I would have to deal with not one but two foundered horses in the last few years, but I did and what I learned by the second founder has saved that horse’s life and what I didn’t learn with the first founder condemned that horse to an early grave. I wanted to share this story in hopes of maybe saving a horse you know.

Cherokee was a horse I owned for years, then sold at age 13 to a local person. He foundered while owned by that person and when I saw him lame, unhealthy and in great pain, I bought him back to try and bring him back to health. For two years I worked to save him with my farrier and also with medications and herbal treatments. The farrier put pads & shoes on him and instead of him getting better he kept getting worse. After several months of trying this, I said no more shoes, he was in too much pain. Despite all efforts, it was with the greatest sadness that I had to have Cherokee put down at a too early age of 16 to end his pain and suffering.

What I didn’t learn from this experience was just how a horse can become laminatic or I would have prevented Spirit my 10 year old Tennessee Walking Horse from foundering in 2006.

As a result of “normal” hoof trimming methods over the years, Spirit had contracted heels by 2005. He was “set up” perfectly for hoof problems. As a result of poor hoof health and his diet he foundered in spring of 2006. I was heartsick. I knew in my despair that one thing was certain. I would do everything in my power to not have him join Cherokee up on the hill in my back 40 pasture. I took over his farrier work after that time and consumed every book and article regarding hoof care and laminitis that I could find. I consulted my local vets, had xrays and blood work done. The only suggestion one vet had regarding his feet was to recommend special shoeing. You can imagine I wasn’t going there again! For a year I worked on his feet and diet as best I could to help him recover. He did recover somewhat and although his feet were still having major problems, he improved to the point where he was comfortable & could be ridden for very short distances. Then in early spring 2007, even with all the precautions and knowledge I had to offer him, he had another bout of laminitis. This was so discouraging and I knew I had to get professional help to my doorstep.

As I came to learn during this whole process, both horses were predisposed to the health issues that can lead to founder. “Easy keepers” they both were living in lush pastures and in winters had rich alfalfa hay and grain. They didn’t have enough need for movement and nor regular exercise from winter to early spring. This is a recipe for founder. In the recipe add farriers that are simply not aware of, nor are correctly taught how to obtain optimum hoof form and mechanism to prevent or treat founder, nor are obliged or mandated to keep abreast of the latest science and technology on healthy hoof care. In all fairness to them, even in veterinarian schools it is apparent that little time is spent on teaching hoof mechanism to obtain optimum health and form.

During my search for knowledge I heard about “barefoot farriers”. They are a group that have continued their studies in horse and hoof mechanisms and physiology to improve the feet and performance of horses without shoeing. They, as individuals or groups of farriers, scientists and veterinarians have studied the mustang or feral horses worldwide as one of their models for natural hoof health. There is now a growing interest and respect for these studies and practices.

I knew I had to find one of these professionals to come and teach me and others here in Manitoba the basics of good hoof health and natural farrier practices. I found James & Yvonne Welz of Litchfield Park, AZ through their website TheHorsesHoof.com. I had ordered some educational books and videos from their online store. After reading about James on the site, I decided to host a clinic here in Manitoba, Canada to bring James & Yvonne here to present a Healthy Hoof clinic. They provided classroom education and James trimmed several horses in order to demonstrate the principles of barefoot trimming horses. It was a life changing event...for the participants and the horses, especially Spirit!

This is the progression of Spirit’s feet from the time James trimmed him during the 2007 June clinic. I trimmed him thereafter using James’s guidelines and consulting. He was trimmed every 2 weeks to a month. At first it was every 2 weeks because of the importance to keep the hooves very consistent to initiate healing from the founder. Then after a couple of months I went to every 3 weeks & now we occasionally can go as long as every 4 weeks for a trim. He has gone from lame on both fronts to sound in this process. By late August, I was riding him 15 miles with his Easy boots on with no recurring lameness.

The first picture is Spirit before his trim by James. At the time of the clinic Spirit was just coming out of the bout of founder and his front feet were very sore.