The odds...

Last weekend was one of those experiences that punched a marker in my timeline…  You know, those experiences where everything in your life either happened before or after that moment?  It was a weekend that had a lot of preparation leading up to it, a lot of anticipation and excitement and a weekend that both Pinto and I were excited to finally be living.

Almost a year ago, a good friend passed away and left me the two most important things to her in this world: her two Arabian horses.  Prince, an older gelding and young Django, a 6 year old who we’ve had the pleasure and privilege of looking after since he was 3.  Django was meant to be the horse Susan grew old with and I have been preparing him for becoming her riding partner for the past few seasons.  THIS was to be their year but when she passed away before they were able to live their dream, it devastated us all.

As my older gelding Manny has been slowing down and my younger Kiger Smoke injured himself in spring, Django was asked to step up and help out around the ranch, gathering cattle, demoing in workshops and generally taking over for both my horses.  I can’t help but imagine just how proud of her young Django Susan would have been if she could have seen just how handy he’s become and how many tasks he not only took on but ACED!  It was her wish that we train him with the thought in mind that if anything should ever happen to her, Django would never find himself homeless, that he would become useful, reliable and versatile. I have been so pleased to see that at least we can say we accomplished that.

As the summer progressed and Django proved himself over and over again Pinto and I decided that we would enter him in Art of the Bridlehorse’s Green Horse Division and this would be his grand finale for his first summer as a full time working horse.  It was a way to celebrate a job well done for Django but also a way to celebrate Susan and hopefully make her spirit proud as she had always envisioned Django one day ridden in the Old Californio Bridlehorse traditions and working cattle like a boss.

As the date approached and a summer of rest and rehab for Smoke continued, Smoke was getting stronger and stronger.  At the beginning of April he had strained his Deep Digital Flexor Tendon and his Check ligament on his left front.  Now, as the Art of the Bridlehorse approached, he was more than 5 months into his healing and we were finally given the green light to ride at the show!  Although I had imagined that we would have been getting tuned up all summer so we could compete, I could not have been more excited to at least be able to bring Smoke to Art of the Bridlehorse as Django’s support system if nothing else.  Smoke had spent his whole summer in a small pen and he had earned the right to play a little and as a reward for a summer of being a good sport about his confinement, we were looking forward to turning both Django and Smoke out with the herd after the event.

We arrived on Thursday, ensuring that we would be settled in and ready to go early on Friday morning for the Intro to the Art workshop. Although Django wasn’t thrilled about the idea of staying in a barn, he was relaxed and happy bunking outside in the cow pens with Smoke.  Both horses were eating and drinking well and although a little wide-eyed about the big stadium style rodeo arena, the shiny clean sheep and the busy atmosphere, Django was taking everything in stride and well on his way to finding his rhythm.  The workshop was going smoothly and as soon as Django started moving the cows he realized that he knew exactly what to do and really started to relax.

At lunchtime both horses were sharing hay, relaxing and resting.  We were looking up at the sky as it clouded over and thinking about the forecast that was calling for a chance of stormy weather.  I put Smoke’s bosalita on and waited for Pinto to do the same with Django and as we waited we heard a low rumble…  I guess we might get a little stormy weather after all, I thought.  I glanced over at Pinto.  He had his halter off Django but done up around his neck as he sorted out his mecate and his bosalita.  Just then there was a sizzle, a crack and an intensely bright white flash.  Our eyes met, both communicating shock and concern just as an ear splitting KABOOM exploded! 

You know how they say that time seems to slow down in an emergency??  Well it’s true, but it also doesn’t..  Just because you can see and process everything at such a high speed that things seem to be happening in slow motion doesn’t make it any easier to move faster than time itself, no matter how hard you try.  As I looked at Pinto and could see that his halter was done up around Django’s neck and his hands were occupied by rawhide and horsehair and we both KNEW Django would run. In the 1.5 seconds that followed 7 things happened all at once:

1. Pinto and I looked at each other and we both realized what was happening and felt the helplessness of knowing there was nothing we could do to stop it.

2. Django came straight at me while I fought to hang onto Smoke.

3. Limited by the small space between the trailers we were in, Django managed to avoid running me over by heading for the gap between Smoke and I.

4. I came to the realization that if I couldn’t stop Django I would lose them both.

5. As Django brushed past me and I grasped for his lead rope, there was a brief moment when I had both Smoke’s get-down and Django’s lead rope in my hands. I had them!  They were in my hands!!

6. I realized I couldn’t hold Django… his halter had slipped down his neck and he was running full throttle with Smoke’s get-down across his chest. I was going to lose hold of Django and when I did I would lose Smoke as well. 

7. Then they were gone and the slide show began… 

Smoke running harder than I’ve ever seen him run and within only two or three strides I saw him hit the next to invisible smooth-wire fence that wraps around the cattle pens full tilt. As if it wasn't enough that he was running like a champion race horse out of a starting gate at the Kentucky Derby on a freshly healed tendon, now he was in the fence!

The post snapping in half. Smoke’s legs tangled in the wire. The sound of the wire ringing out. The sound of the wood splintering. Smoke tumbling to the ground and Django gone. I went to cover my eyes, turning away.  I didn’t want to see the bones that I was sure would be protruding from Smokes flesh and as I turned I saw the gates.. 

I realized then that Smoke was getting up (thank goodness!) and was now bronking.  Unless he found the hole he'd just made, he was contained inside the cattle pen for now but I had to get to the gates before he did and close them!  Swearing while I ran I started towards the gates and that’s when I heard Smoke hitting the fence AGAIN on the other side of the pen.  It wasn’t over, they were both running blind now, hell bent for leather, directly into the tightly packed Ag Expo’s main fairgrounds, past children on bikes, dogs tied to campers, wheel barrels, children leading sheep, food trucks and all kinds of farm equipment.

They were gone…  And then the screaming began.  It sounded surreal..  Like the sounds of an overcrowded amusement park with terrifying roller coasters.  There was crashing, banging, screaming and shouts of “Get out of the way!!!” and I realized just how bad things really were.

Just then A side-by-side full of faces I recognized (my friends and my heros) slowed down enough for me to jump in and then it was like one of those chaotic scenes from a high budget disaster movie complete with fancy camera work as people were jumping out of our way, gates being opened and closed, pointing and shouts of “which way did they go!!!” And return shouts of “through that fence, towards the parking lot!”  

I was only partially processing the words and the sights in front of me while I tried to remember to keep myself breathing, as I confronted the very real possibility that less than two weeks after losing Cisco, my first Kiger mustang, my 26 year old heart horse who meant the world to me, I was going to lose two more very special horses.  I could hear myself saying “I’m going to lose them all…”

My friends in the side-by-side reassured me and held my hand and kept searching through the trail of destruction for signs of either Django or Smoke..  That’s when we rounded the corner from the parking lot to the main entrance to the Fairgrounds and the side-by-side skidded to a stop and I’m held in place. “Stay here!” I’m told and as I scan the scene for why... Then I see it.

There’s a horse up ahead, on the road.  He’s on his left side, legs towards the 6’ chain-link fence he’s just come through and his head is covered.  There are people holding him down and his saddle is being pulled off of him where he lies on the road.  What color is it??  Is it Django or Smoke?  Is he dead???

This has got to be one of the most terrifying and horrible moments of my life.  I honestly believed he was gone, that he’d been hit by a car and was either dead or would be soon.  As I processed the fact that this was Django on the road and for the second time in just minutes looked away (as though looking away could change the facts), I could hear Devanee’s voice through the sound of my own panic.  “He’s ok!  Look!!  He’s up!”

I think I said “How???” as I registered Django’s long, slender legs trotting soundly towards me on the road.  And then “But where is Smoke???”. 

More chaotic high speed, side-by-side movie scene action and then Smoke…. Standing upright, bleeding but upright and on all four legs, his get-down in my friend Jacki’s hands . He was far from ok but he was alive!!! I jumped from the side-by-side, grabbed his get-down rope and pulled him into the closet stall i could find asking (or probably more accurately telling) whoever could hear me to shut us in and get the vet.  We waited (not long) and I stroked his face and held him together as best I could, saying “I’ve got you, I’ve got you” over and over again as he was dancing on the spot, adrenaline and electricity racing through him still, not even wanting to look him over until he was well sedated.  

Someone told me then that the vet was with Django and he was ok. Somehow!!! That’s when things started to slow down…

Apparently after finding the main gate closed, Django had weaved his way between a few campers and RV’s and then went through a 6’ chain link fence, peeling the chain link right out of its frame and getting a foot caught on his way through.  It was this that finally stopped him, his foot caught in the fence knocked him down and some heroic person had the wherewithal to throw a coat over his head and hold him down so they could get his halter back on his head properly. Whoever that was, if you’re reading this, thank you!!! . You saved our horses life.

Django’s injuries were “superficial” but he was a little in shock and obviously quite shook up.  Smoke had lost hide in a few places from his two run ins with the invisible smooth wire fence and he had a good gallop on a questionable tendon and ended up with a few large abrasions and a couple of impressive lacerations, one of which was a “banana peel” style flap of flesh hanging from his front left (and before you ask, yes, that was the tendon he injured).

It was Dr. McGillivray from KLAVC who was the vet on site at the Ag Expo last weekend. He sedated Smoke and once he began to relax his saddle and gear was pulled off of him and Dr McGillivray patched him up, cut off the hide that couldn’t be reattached and gave him some antibiotics.  Django was also sedated and his injuries were assessed.  Miraculously he was almost completely unharmed besides some very minor abrasions and one good cut on his shoulder, probably from the RV slide-out he ran into while running from the lightning. Dr McGillivray believes Django felt a considerable jolt from the lightning as his heart-rate was quite elevated despite the sedation and it stayed elevated for quite some time despite the fairly minor nature of his cuts and scrapes. He appeared to be in a bit of shock so we threw a blanket on him and took them home. 

They will both be ok but the whole ordeal was traumatic enough and their injuries/conditions were serious enough that we loaded them back up and brought them home immediately to make sure they would be able to relax and rest.  It was more than a little disappointing to say the least and not at all how we had hoped the weekend would go but considering the seriousness of very nearly being struck by lightning (and the fact that the generator that was sitting close by was fried by the strike), we are all very lucky!  It could have been a whole lot worse but aside from the luck of a much more of a disaster it could have been, we are lucky to have such an incredibly remarkable community of friends and comrades who were all so willing to help us that day. 

Judy, Devanee, Heather…  Thank you for picking me up, holding me together and helping me track my horses when I couldn’t.  Heather, thank you for pulling off Django’s saddle and keeping me away when you didn’t know what I would see.  Devanee, thank you for keeping me in the side by side and for doing your best to give me hope when I was giving up.  Judy, thank you for being so capable and focused, for knowing what to do and how to do it and for knowing how much they mean to me.  Jacki, thank you for being there for Smoke.  Your familiar face would mean more to him than you know and knowing he was with you calmed my nerves a lot!  Curt, thank you for being willing to come inside the small box with my angry mustang to pull off his gear and for being available while we treated him and Django. Coralie, thank you for being there, sharing your calm energy and for babysitting the boys while we got their trailer ready to roll. Jason McGillivray, thank you for your speedy and experienced medical attention and compassion. To the man who caught Smoke as he ran past.  Thank you for stopping my horse before he could hurt anyone or hurt himself more than he already had.  To whomever had the good sense to throw a jacket over Django’s eyes and hold him down when he tripped on the last fence he went through, thank you.  Your quick thinking and good decision saved his life, I’m quite sure. 

Photo by Coco Michelle Portrait

Pinto and I have had many sleepless nights since last Friday.  The experience was unlike anything I’ve been through before and hopefully anything I’ll ever go through again.  Sitting on Smoke in the hours before what happened, happened, I felt so much pride and love for my little horse and his big heart.  I felt grief for Cisco and Susan.  I felt excitement and hope for Django and what he was gaining through his experince.  I felt confidence and joy for Pinto and how he was going to guide Django through his first Art of the Bridlehorse for Susan, proving for her that an Arabian can be a bridled stockhorse. 

It was an epic adventure that I hope we NEVER experience again and although we are still licking our wounds, we are so grateful to have been able to take both our horse’s home with us, that they will both make a full recovery and that no one else was hurt in the day’s excitement.  I gained a lot of respect for both Smoke and Django that day…  So far as I can tell between the two of them they went through 5 fences, covered close to a klm of fairgrounds, through crowds and all kinds of obstacles and they were the only ones who sustained injuries of which were relatively minor.  These are NOT delicate animals.  They are strong, fast and virtually indestructible, forged by lightning!  I am in awe of their power and resilience and their ability to "shake things off".