Recovery

It's easy to acquire a horse, to feel sorry for a horse about to be put to sleep, it's easy to say 'yes' when someone asks. To be honest I didn't give the UBF a huge amount of thought, I was casually looking for another horse - a project for me and my 15 year old daughter. A horse to be loved by the community where he was going to live. I had a lot of support, contacts, experience and time, but the nerves crept in once the operation was over - I now had a 2 year old stallion who'd had zero training, on my hands.

The years have taught me to live in the present as much as you can. Learn from the past and take one day at a time. So instead of worrying how I was going to back this gangly little creature and whether I had the nerves still left to do it, I concentrated on today.

The vet showed me how to inject the 20mls of thick antibiotic liquid into his neck. She showed me how to pinch the skin and draw back the tube to make sure I hadn't hit a vein. She demonstrated how I needed to clean the wound, how to flush the holes of pus so the liquid would come right out of his mouth. She gave me the pain relief in powder form and I worried how he wouldn't eat it.

But one day at a time. He stood patiently while I injected him, my nerves jangling inside hoping not to hurt his poor, malnourished neck. With some apple juice and mash he gobbled his pain relief and with just the smallest amount of twitching, he let me clean his wounds.

I am amazed at the UBF. His stoic ability to accept what has happened over the last few days of his life. I am proud of myself, to face things which scare me, to challenge myself and to stand up for what I believe in. I am honoured that my friend has given me a field and a stable where he can stay. I am incredbly proud of my daughters who day and night, rain or searing heat, help with the animals without complaint.

So it's not just me raising the UBF. It's a community. It not only takes a village to raise a child, but an Ugly Brown Foal as well.