Carmen

We've all got a horse story, haven't we. Personally I've had several, and Carmen is no exception. Here's mine and her story.

In September 2014, I was neither looking for, or needed, another horse. I had the perfect life/horse/work balance with Murf and Cookie, but then I met Carmen, a very pretty 7-yr old TB mare, standing isolated in a small field and looking a bit lonely.

Carmen had started her life as a prospective racer, beautifully bred to fly and win. But - she was born with an inward-twisting front left hoof and pastern, so discarded to a life as a brood mare. By the age of 6 she'd been passed from home to home, and was found by her previous owner abandoned in a field when they were looking at another horse for their daughter. They didn't buy said horse, but saw the whip scars on Carmen's rump and how she hobbled, and took her home with them there and then.

The vet pronounced her effectively 2/10 lame with a permanent script of pain-relief and annual steroid jabs. She was turned out and loved, but meanwhile her barrel was expanding rapidly, more so than a summer on grass. Several months later Carmen produced a perfect foal, apparently the result of an illicit night with a big coloured WB chap.

A couple of years later, enter me. A sucker for a sob story, on hearing about her sad background, of course I went and cuddled her, and sure enough there was her pronounced wonky hoof, and in a pretty ropey state to boot. In fact, all her hooves hadn't seen a rasp for months - they were all overgrown and dished, poor quality with underrun heels and lami event lines on every one.

She also didn't look fabulous - not scrawny or thin so much, but a bit under-nourished with a dull scurfy coat, just generally not as good as you'd expect, especially for a chestnut TB. I casually asked what feed she was on and shuddered at the response - apart from solitary 24-hr grass turnout, she was on ginormous twice-a-day feeds of high-molassed, 17% sugar chaff and crappy nuts with all the ingredients I avoid like the plague.

Trying not to look condemning, I asked why she was on so much hard feed for summer when she was clearly an unridden. "It's what our others get so she's on the same," came the reply. Ah. She obviously hadn't had any decent nutrition for months.

I'm not implying for one minute that the then-owners weren't caring - totally the opposite, in fact. The parents were lovely, very caring, but cattle farmers with no equine experience or knowledge. It was a classic case that we've all no doubt seen; very well-off parents but with a horribly overindulged teenage daughter, who always had an expensive classy horse on standby for when she wanted to fill her socials with glossy photos.

Once the novelty wore off, said horse was no more than an accessory, just like her latest handbag or personalised number-plate car, and this unbearable spoilt child went through horse after horse after horse.  She was happy enough to flash the posed photos for the first few weeks but in not too long a time she gradually lost interest, managing to completely avoid any work involved with looking after them.

Eventually each horse was sold on, a shadow of their former expensive selves, undernourished, overweight and abandoned; on two occasions that I know of, the horse in question died. This girl was the bain of my life; utterly clueless despite talking the talk, but she didn't know even the simple basics about any kind of equine nutrition or management, nor did she want to - the parents would always dig her out of trouble, then after an unbearable sulk, they'd trot off and buy her another expensive competition horse for her to completely ruin.

It was the mother who acquired Carmen, after seeing her alone and sad looking when they were looking for the brat's next horse. Carms had been with them for a year or so when I showed up, by which time she was already abandoned by the daughter, hence why the mother was keen to shift her on for a pittance. There was also a particularly nasty looking wound on her RH fetlock, which looked very gammy and in need of a good clean-up. I mentioned it, and was told she'd caught it on barbed wire months back after a hoon in the field. Months?! They told me their vet had looked at it but apparently had said it would heal on its own, which it plainly hadn't.

With her story ringing in my ears, I mentioned it to my ever-patient husband. "Are you sure you want another horse?" he asked, looking a bit worried. "Um ..." I replied. I couldn't get her out of my head. She deserved so much better than being permanently dumped in a small paddock, isolated from other equine company, with pretty much zero attention other than a naff feedbowl chucked at her. Apart from anything, her hooves needed serious attention, and that wound definitely needed looking at.

I figured she could buddy up with our Cookie who adored the company of mares; poor Cookie had been very much stuck with Murf for years. I convinced husband that I already had 2 horses so one more wouldn't be too much extra work, plus remember, we'd originally had 5! I could manage, no bother, I tried to convince him. Husband shrugged in acceptance, and even gave me the cash to go get her there and then.

The deal was done and Carmen was mine. I now had a beautiful 7-yr old chestnut TB mare in my care, to shower with TLC, get her used to human contact again, and get her healthy again. She joined up with Murf and Cookie in the field and settled perfectly.

First off I switched her feed straight away to ours, with our EquiVita minerals and JSTTonic. She looked at me as if I was some kind of mad, and refused it all. Took a second for me to realise that of course, she'd been blissed out on a high-sugar crap-in-a-bag diet, so naturally she was a bit peeved. Against every fibre in my body, I gritted my teeth and bought a bag of her former crappy feed to wean her slowly off it, and within 2-weeks she was converted, licking her bowl cleaner than the other two. Needless to say her crap feedbag feed went off to the muck heap pronto.

I also set to on the fetlock wound and cleaned it up. Our trimmer came over within days and spent hours taking photos of Carmen's hooves and giving her her first proper trim. She was impeccable throughout, and by the end of the day her hooves looked remarkably improved. Trimmer also commented on the fetlock wound, and I gave her the story, assuring her I was on the case.

Two weeks later, Carmen suddenly couldn't walk. She was fine that same morning when I turned her out; now she was stock still in her field. It soon became apparent that she was beyond hopping lame on her right hind and in significant pain. Somehow I got her in - she was very brave and stoic, but each step was a military manoevre in itself. We finally got her to her stable where I was able to have a good look at her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, other than a bit of heat around her fetlock wound.

I called the vet who immediately spotted her fetlock. I gave her the story - a several-month' old wound I'd inherited when I bought her, but I'd cleaned it up and it wasn't getting any worse. The vet looked concerned, got out a very nasty looking needle and drew fluid from the joint, twice. With a grave face she then gave me the bad news. Our beautiful 7-yr old girl had joint sepsis in her fetlock. She advised me that the internal infection had probably been there for weeks, and had only presented itself that day as the infection got into the bloodstream. You could have knocked me over.

The vet immediately prescribed bute and antibiotics, although also gravely told me that the antibiotics only had a 5% chance of working. Then she hit me with it - if there was no improvement within 48-hours, Carmen's prognosis was PTS.

I went home in shock. Tears were shed. I barely slept until the next morning when I could drench all her drugs into her, which she took without batting an eyelid. 24-hours came and went. She was still in agony and couldn't weightbear on her leg at all. Very aware that I only had one more day, I diligently gave her her drugs and prayed hard to all the gods and goddesses out there. I'd barely got to know this beautiful girl for 5-minutes and now I was counting down the clock to end her young life.

The following morning she was no better. I called the vet that morning in floods, accepting the prognosis, not wanting to prolong her suffering. We agreed to speak the following morning and make the dreaded appointment.

That night something in me changed. I drenched her as usual, hugged her like crazy and cried my eyes out. I knew I had to do the right thing by her but oh boy what a horrible position to be in. Then the red mist came through. What the heck was I doing, about to let a beautiful young mare die? How come the vet's anti-b's only had a pathetic 5% chance of working? What on earth was the point of just 5%, as in next-to-zero chance? Was I really prepared to rely on a mere 'chance' for her recovery? Not to mention all the damage the drugs were doing to her gut and immunity, just when she needed the strongest immunity she could muster.

It was a Kelso deja-vu all over again. Vet meds not working - hang on, worse than that - didn't have a ***** hope of working as far as the vet was concerned. Suddenly my brain kicked in. I had to turn to herbs. Just like I'd done all those years ago with Kelso.

All I could think of was that I somehow had to give her the biggest blast of natural antibiotic, antiviral, anti-everything, detoxing and immune support that herbs could muster, to draw out/ kill off that infection as best I could. That night I put together a blend, and the following morning I gave her a double dose and crossed everything. I didn't make that call to the vet. Same again the next day, double dose, morning and evening.

The 3rd morning when I peered over her stable door, Carmen's hoof was flat on the floor. I couldn't believe my eyes! Then I noticed a flipping great hole on her coronet band right below her wound. She'd abscessed beautifully - I've never been so happy to see an abscess in my life! She walked out of her stable that same morning after her breakfast, a bit gimpy but with a flat foot, determined to get on with her day. We never looked back.

That was October 2014, and that blend became our BioCARE. These days her coat glows and she looks amazing. Her hooves and underrun heels will always be a work in progress, but at least she grows the hooves she needs to support herself. She gets daily joint support, magnets on both front pasterns, and she's comfortable and happy. She does not get an annual steroid jab.

It's barely worth thinking about, but imagine if I'd gone with the vet (which in my emotional state I so nearly did) - I'd have ended the life of a beautiful 7-year old mare who'd already been through enough of a horrible life ...

Recovered, happy, and thriving, as we got to know her we soon found out that Carms was a field-hooner, and with her racehorse breeding she flies like a bullet with sheer joy. However, that inward-twisted LF means she’s prone to landing wonky mid-hoon and ending up lame – often ... 🙄. She simply doesn’t recognise her foot’s wonky and loves tearing around like a loony, fly bucking as she goes.

So now cut to 2017 and one day I could see she was proper lame again, as in completely immobile - I literally couldn’t walk her back to her stable. With fairly impressive inflammation going on I had a pretty good idea that there was major soft-tissue damage so I got her straight onto our TriBute pain relief for that early-stage acute pain and inflammation, as early alleviation of the pain/stress is key - if they're not focused on the pain the body's more receptive to the healing process.

Thankfully, her injury happened during the summer, so as she couldn't move I was happy enough to leave her turned out so she was with her buddies and still able to graze in keeping with her natural behaviour, shuffling within her very limited comfort zone. For what it's worth I’m not a great believer in box rest (at all, actually), especially during those early days of significant peripheral injury, because the only movement a horse can do in a confined stable are sharp pivot turns, which risks further damage. Gentle and 'correct' (as in straight line) movement to encourage a nutrient-rich blood supply is so important to get healing underway; for Carms I was happy enough for her to shuffle as best she could, which in that early stage wasn’t very much at all.

I had mains water in the field so I was able to cold-soak her foot in a bucket in the field to ease the inflammation, which she diligently put up with. I also put together an easily-absorbed aloe gel with healing comfrey alongside frankincense (which I swear by for aches and pains) and cooling camphor oils. She obviously found it incredibly soothing as each day she started holding her leg out for me to rub it in! I found it so effective for her that I added it into our Topical Gel range, giving it the name JSTGel (Joint & Soft Tissue).

(Have to say I've since used the JSTGel myself on numerous occasions, the first time after Carms whomped me and broke 2 ribs (not intentionally, it was a wrong place/wrong time moment), then I fell and chipped my coccyx which was agony, then in 2019 I badly shattered my ankle which dislocated my foot. Not pleasant, that one, with a lot of metal to put it all back together and a long recovery, but the JSTGel really soothed it and I'm quite sure helped speed things up. We've since had many people buying it for themselves, and my ancient mum uses it regularly following an ankle fusion 😀.)

Carms stayed on the TriBute for around 2-weeks as her lameness remained fairly profound during this time, although thankfully the swelling and heat were considerably reduced within a week or so. By Week-3 I was able to walk her in straight lines v-e-r-y slowly, and always completely within her own comfort levels, loosening up nicely within 20-30 yards or so. This meant we could get her to the yard where we were able to get her x-rayed which confirmed my thoughts; one torn DDFT.

Within a few days, the gentle, daily, straight-line walking improved her overall lameness immensely, which allowed the tendon fibrils to start reknitting together correctly. By now I’d switched her down to our DuoBute as she seemed more comfortable. She stayed on the Duo for a couple of weeks or so, and from around Week 4-5 she needed no support other than me keeping her on our JSTTonic and JointReflexa. Within 2-months she was walking with barely a nod, seemingly remarkably sound considering the injury.

I am so lucky to have her in my life and we adore her, especially my husband who of late has taken her on as his. She's one of the most sensible, grounded and intelligent mares I've met, although will let you know her opinion when you're not necessarily asking for it. Carmen is entirely responsible for our BioCARE and our JSTGel.

Image below - Carms 10-months after she joined our family, taken Jul'15