- Living in Paradise offers a variety of
sobering experiences. It's like the farmers say: "The land is beautiful,
and the land is hard." Beauty and suffering come hand-in-hand. I make
new discoveries everywhere I turn, whether I want to or not.
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- Last week, I made a discovery I wish
I never had. The good news is that I know something I didn't know before.
The bad news is that what I know ain't good.
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- It's got to do with Elaine the Not-So-Wild
Mustang. She's a rescue we snatched away from a dog food company by outbidding
them at the auction block after she was caught in a roundup.
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- The reason Elaine was caught is that
she's crippled. Her front legs are bowed and knock-kneed and very weak.
It looks like rickets, although I've never met a horse person who would
say, "Yep, horses get rickets."
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- Whatever the cause, the effect is that
Elaine's movements are slow and stumbling. She becomes less awkward when
an expert trims her hooves just right. Luckily, here in Paradise we've
got such an expert, Greg the Farrier, a third-generation blacksmith who
gets along better with horses than Barry Bonds does with a baseball bat.
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- Greg last trimmed Elaine's hooves about
a month ago. But this time it didn't help.
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- She continued stumbling. Since then,
she's gotten slower and slower. One morning, I awoke to find Burl Jr. the
New Caretaker shooing away the dogs because Elaine was lying on the ground,
trapped in the fence, and couldn't get up.
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- All the activity got the mare so riled
that a burst of adrenaline set her free, but now she's so frightened she
never goes more than two steps away from her man, Huck the Spotless Appaloosa.
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- Huck's usually a pretty impatient cuss,
but he waits for her uncomplainingly. As though he knows that without him
Elaine won't survive.
-
- During the last few days, Elaine's gotten
much worse. Her left leg is rigid and can't support any weight.
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- The only way she can walk is to extend
it slowly, then pull her right leg up even with it, and then hop forward
so her rear catches up. It takes about 30 seconds per step. Thirty exhausting
seconds.
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- When I first arrived in Paradise, vets
specializing in horses and cows and other "big animals" were
the rule. Now, they're exceptions. Our dog vet, Sarah Bailey, has recommended
someone new, recently arrived from Texas. He's due over this afternoon.
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- Meanwhile, I've been buying horse pain
meds at the feed store and getting advice from Greg the Farrier and my
neighbors who raise horses. Neighbors who look at Elaine and shake their
heads, mumble a few platitudes about what a good life Gwen the Beautiful
and I have given her up to now and then try to sell me a filly they've
bred.
-
- Me, I'm no doctor of animals or men,
although I've got a few tricks I picked up back around Santa Fe. And Burl
Jr.'s been following his farmer father's instructions faithfully as we
fight for Elaine's life. We're doing our best, and hoping our best as well.
-
- For years, I've tried to be the kind
of person Elaine would want to be around. One of the ways I judge myself
is by her response to me. It's a good day, and I'm a good man - better
than I once was - when Elaine lets me touch her.
-
- At least that's how it was. Now, Elaine
acts like she's tame. She flinches but doesn't shy away when I touch her.
She responds warmly to soft voices and kind words, and especially to carrots
and apples.
-
- But that's not really her choice. It's
just that she no longer is able to pull off her escapes.
-
- This morning, when I went outside to
feed the horses, I watched Elaine inch painfully to the hay, and I patted
her neck and untangled her mane. She stood quietly as I did it, and all
I could think of at a moment I once would've considered a triumph was,
"Please, sweetheart! Run! Run away!"
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- Postscript: The New Vet From Texas just
left. Elaine had an abscess in her hoof caused by a stone lodged there.
He scraped it out, applied heavy duty disinfectant and a stronger painkiller,
and she's already putting her weight on that leg.
-
- Ah, Burl Jr. just hollered, "She's
running into the trees!
-
- All's right with the world.
-
- *******
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- Copyright C 2006 by Larry Brody. For
permission to reprint this column, please write to LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org.
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- ******
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- Author Larry Brody's weekly column, LIVE!
FROM PARADISE! appears on his website, www.larrybrody.com. He has written
thousands of hours of network television, and is the author of "Television
Writing from the Inside Out" and "Turning Points in Television."
Brody is Creative Director of The Cloud Creek Institute for the Arts, the
world's first in-residence media colony. More about his activities can
be seen on www.tvwriter.com and www.cloudcreek.org. He welcomes your comments
and feedback at LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org. Brody, his wife and their dogs,
cats, horses and chickens live in Marion County, Arkansas. The other residents
of the mythical town of Paradise reside in his imagination.
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