It was over twenty years ago. Jeri’s brand new Range Rover pulled into the driveway, dragging a horse float behind that looked more like a 5-star hotel room. Inside was a 3-year-old grey mare, Bonnie. My job was to start Bonnie under saddle for Jeri. Bonnie had come from a long line of winners, and it was Jeri’s most cherished dream that the mare would continue the family tradition. She had bred Bonnie from her favourite mare and had a lot of hope and emotion invested in the horse.
My first look at Bonnie was a bit of a shock. Jeri had already told me on the phone how special Bonnie was and her amazing bloodlines. So I was really surprised to see that the horse standing in front of me was a conformational disaster. She looked like a cartoon character from the Encylopeadia of Bad Conformation. Most notably her back was very long and her back legs showed no sign of having hocks – they were almost straight. I guessed that if Bonnie had been born in the wild she would not live past the age of 10.
But I liked Bonnie. I liked her a lot. She was smart and playful. She had more character than a dozen horses with just a little bit of mischief in her. I remember watching her play with my gelding by grabbing his tail and pulling him to follow her. Then there was a time when she grabbed a lead rope that hung from the fence and twirled it around and around in a perfect circle just for the fun of it. We got along great and she was so much fun to work with.
As it came time for Jeri to take Bonnie home I did my best to convey to her that I felt Bonnie was a brilliant horse, but that her body was probably going to stop her from being able to cope with hard work. Jeri’s dream was for Bonnie to be her next endurance star and one day win the Tom Quilty Gold Cup (an important 160km race in Australia). When I told Jeri that this would never happen and pointed out all the reasons why her horse’s mis-shapened body would let her down, Jeri seemed crestfallen – but only for a short while.
I next saw Bonnie about three years later. I got a phone call from a woman who had bought Bonnie for her teenage daughter to ride at Pony Club. It seems Jeri was not happy with my advice to ride Bonnie as a pleasure horse and some low-level dressage to strengthen her back and hindquarters. She got better advice from a person who encouraged her with her dream for Bonnie to one day be in the Hall of Fame of endurance horses. For two years Bonnie was in the champion’s program that all horses destined for greatness must endure. She had early success in a few 40km events, which was enough for her to dismiss my earlier advice. However, at the end of the second year, Jeri finally succumbed to the inevitable truth that Bonnie’s body was falling apart with the work. She was showing early signs of sacroiliac damage and on-again/off-again lameness in the right fore. Jeri’s dream was abandoned for now and the horse was left fallow in a paddock. A year later Sue bought Bonnie for her 14-year-old daughter, Nicole.
Bonnie was Nicole’s second horse and her jumping instructor told Sue that she needed to upgrade from a pony to a real horse with more potential. Bonnie was the right size, the right age, and the right price. Although untested in competition, Bonnie also had the right bloodlines.
Sue sent Bonnie to me because she found the horse a bit too strong for her daughter. Her training as an endurance horse had undone the nice, fun, soft horse I sent home with Jeri. I was sad to see Bonnie in this state, but I hoped the real Bonnie was still inside somewhere.
With some slow, easy work to begin, I started to see the old Bonnie. I felt like I had tapped into a gold seam of fun again. She was no longer a beaten down 6 year old. She was the 3 year old I remembered and loved. After about a month, it was time to get Nicole riding Bonnie before the horse went home.
I guided Nicole in how I wanted her to communicate with Bonnie. We rode together for the next couple of weeks in the arena and out on trails. Nicole was so thrilled to ride a horse that felt so free. Free to go, free to stop, free to turn, free to wait and see what Nicole was going to ask next. The grin on the girl’s face was worth a week’s wages and the okay-ness inside Bonnie was worth a month’s.
I tried to emphasize to Sue and Nicole that Bonnie might be the best horse they will ever own, but she is not destined to be a competitive show jumper. I was sure they got the message and felt good about things when they pulled out of my gateway with Bonnie in tow.
I can’t recall how long it was before the next time I saw Bonnie – it might have been another 4 years. I got a phone call asking me to go to Helen’s place to assess a horse that was bucking. Helen had bought Bonnie from a woman who had bought her from Sue and Nicole but was afraid of the horse. Helen had re-educated horses with bucking problems before and bought Bonnie thinking she could do it again. But Bonnie was an unpredictable bucker and this unpredictability had bested Helen’s skills.
I tried hard to fight back the tears when I saw it was Bonnie. She was a shell of a horse – her eyes, and her expression were totally dead. Her knees were thickened, her back was saggy and hollow and her sacroiliac protruded like the point of an arrow. I found out that Nicole had been jumping her and had reached C grade before Bonnie started to develop lameness in her knees and the pedal bone on her right front foot had sunk to a degree that she needed special shoeing. I suspected she had also begun bucking intermittently, but forgot to tell the new owner, who had to discover it for herself. Then she passed to Helen who was looking for an adult riding club horse to do some low-level dressage competitions and trail riding with friends.
Helen asked if I could fix Bonnie’s bucking problem. I told her considering her many physical problems I wanted to begin with the vet. It took a couple of weeks of investigation before x-rays revealed quite a severe kissing spine syndrome. This is where two or more of the vertical processes of the spine touch and cause considerable pain. It’s common in horses with swaybacks, such a broodmares or very old horses. There is no cure and the best you can do is manage the symptoms.
The vet’s advice was to retire Bonnie and I agreed. Helen was not satisfied and more than a little unhappy that she had bought a horse she wasn’t suppose to ride. She sought out two other vets for opinions and only finally accepted the verdict after she had spent another $3000 for their advice.
My last phone conversation was about Bonnie’s future. I told her that I felt very sad for Bonnie, but the body she was born with always meant she was not going to have a healthy life. I said that I thought Bonnie was a fabulous horse and would make a great companion for her next horse. As Helen and I talked I really felt we were on the same page and Bonnie was finally going to have a peaceful, low-stress existence living out her days as a happy paddock companion. Then Helen shattered by delusion with her final words, “Well, I guess next season I’ll put her in foal.”
Bonnie is not the only horse that I remember with equally sad tales. I come across people whose first thoughts about a horse are of what their horse can do for them. I can get pretty agitated. I believe if they had known Bonnie they would understand.
Old Horse - drawing by Levon from Artmajeur Gallery