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  Hi! I'm Leah, and these are my two horses, Pyro (left) and Missy (right). As a fledgling blogger, I plan to share our adventures, mish...

Monday, July 22, 2024

A Walk Down Memory Lane: When life gives you TBIs, make baby horses (aka Missy's pregnancy and Pyro's birth)

 June of 2018, I was about 4 months into recovering from my Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). I could finally drive again, but my cognitive stamina was still severely limited. Missy had been helping me with some of my vestibular therapy, allowing me to first sit on her while standing still to do my exercises, then progressing to doing them at the walk. 

Lots of target tracking exercises

The previous season, we had been very competitive together. We won money in team sorting with my two best friends, Sam and Stef.

Playing cowgirl, note the lack of helmet 

We also won our first full horse trial, Leg Up at the Hoosier Horse Park, competing in Beginner Novice (BN). 
Miss absolutely attacked every XC course I took her on

The ribbon and trophy are still proudly displayed in my living room.

Suddenly not having the balance to do more than walk was a bit of a shock, but I was grateful for every moment I got to spend with Missy. It gave me a sense of normalcy when I was dealing with the loss of independence and social life that came with the long road of TBI recovery. Since we were going to be taking it easy for the foreseeable future, I decided a good use of Missy's time and energy would be to have a foal, my next sport horse. I wanted something smart, hardy, and capable of enjoying both western and english sports with me. Ideally, it would be no taller than Miss, as I have a pretty short leg. Enter Peanut, a small, dark chestnut morgan stallion, owned by friends of mine whose herd I trimmed. 

Mr. Short, Dark, and Handsome

Since I trimmed him and knew him personally, I was well acquainted with his fun, curious personality, floaty gaits, and extremely good feet. He was turned out with his gelding sons with no issues and loved playing with toys. Since Miss has a tendency to be a bit stiff  from how muscle bound she is and has abscess prone feet, I figured Peanut might improve upon some of her "flaws", while keeping the personality and brains I appreciated about them both. (A bay filly would check all the boxes.)

Young Peanut

So, I gave my friends two trims for free (the equivalent of $70), and Missy got a week of debauchery with Peanut. We got very lucky with pasture breeding, and I don't think I'd attempt it again, knowing what I know now. But, ignorance is bliss!

Missy's idea of paradise

Two weeks later, her ultrasound included a happy black dot, and two weeks after that, we confirmed a healthy heartbeat. 

Baby Peanut!

In hindsight, that breeding was incredibly easy. Like, the mystic bullshit of the universe seems to have WANTED me to have that baby horse. 

My future dragonmare baby

Missy's pregnancy went by without incident. I continued to very lightly work with her through my TBI recovery, and not much else changed. 

Little moments with her did my mental health so much good.

When it came time to pull Missy off of fescue and get her settled where she would eventually foal out, I brought her to my uncle's stable where she could be dry lotted/turned out in the arena. By the start of May, Missy was very hot, VERY round, and we only did a little liberty work to keep her mind engaged. Most of my time with her was spent grooming and just trying to make her comfortable. 

A very pregnant dragonmare

On May 14th, I had just shot my uncle a text saying I was having a "bad brain day" plagued with Post Concussion Syndrome (PCS) symptoms, and that I didn't think I'd be able to drive down to the stable that day. His response was something along the lines of, "okay, Missy's got him up and nursing". WHAT?! 

My first view of Missy and her baby

Apparently, Missy had waited until my uncle turned her out in the round pen and went to town to run errands so she could have some peace and quiet to have her baby. The foal was indeed up, dry, and nursing when he returned. 

Look at those spots!

My uncle finally got a good enough look to tell me I had a new colt (not the filly I had hoped for), and when the vet made it out to check on momma and foal, all was well. My now husband picked me up and drove me down to the stable to meet my new horse and congratulate Missy, who turned out to be the perfect mother. 

He was so darling and tiny.

Missy knew exactly what to do, and she never had any issue with me approaching her and her baby. 

My favorite picture of Miss as a new mother

Even at a young age, it was clear this colt was a spunky little firecracker. After tossing around a few name options, Momma's Lil' Pyromaniac, barn name Pyro, stuck. Since Miss is my "dragonmare", raising this feisty baby of hers was going to be like playing with fire. 

Dragonmare and Baby dragon

In spite of everything I was dealing with post-TBI, the opportunity to breed Missy and later train her son was such a gift that I likely wouldn't have received if I hadn't been forced to take a step back from training and competing. As the saying goes, when life gives you TBIs, make baby horses... or something like that.

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