Post by helen1983 on Mar 7, 2021 16:44:14 GMT
Hi all! I've wanted to write this story for the longest time but I've struggled with photo editing. Hopefully I've managed to find a way around it! Just a brief warning, this story contains references (not visual) to human injury/illness which some people may find upsetting if they've been in a similar situation. There is also mention of equine illness and loss, just so you can prepare yourself if you need to.
Sally gets some bad news, and it threatens to take the carpet from beneath her feet. Luckily, fate conspires to give not just Sally, but someone else, some good news...
IMG_2468 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally picked up one of Rufus' tug toys and grimaced as a sharp pain seared through her hip as she stood up again. She'd already taken her morning dose of co-codamol, so she'd just have to put up with it until later that evening.
She'd struggled with arthritis the past few years; one didn't get to their sixties without a little iscomfort now and then, but Sally had to concede that the discomfort had been getting worse. Unbeknownst to anyone on the yard (not even Sarah) Sally had seen a specialist a couple of weeks ago about it, who had hummed and hawed, poked and prodded her and sent her for a scan, with the promise of an online follow up appointment.
Screenshot 2021-03-07 at 15.26.25 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"I'm afraid it's osteoarthritis," the specialist had said, gently.
"Okay, so painkillers, maybe an injection, then I can get back to riding," she said, briskly. "Thank you for your time, doctor-"
"Wait a minute, Ms. Rees," said the specialist, and smiled kindly at her.
The specialist explained as gently as she could, that it appeared Sally had some quite severe degeneration in her right hip, but it also looked as though the left hip was starting to deteriorate too. The only long term option would be surgery, with a total replacement of both hips. Riding would have to be on the back burner for a while.
"I'm afraid there will be a considerable backlog for surgery due to the pandemic," said the specialist. "You could be seen privately, but many other patients will be doing the same."
"How long are we talking?" asked Sally, not sure she wanted the answer.
The specialist smiled apologetically at Sally. "Years, rather than months."
Sally had ended the call, jargon and questions whirling around her mind like fairground waltzers. A few years! She was fortunate that her liveries were mostly DIY, but she still had a lot of work planned on the yard. A new office, indoor arena and cross country training course, and regular maintenance in addition to that. But what about her homebred gelding, Jack? He was four years old and about ready to break in. She couldn't leave it any longer. Paprika was being wasted in the paddock and Tigerlilly would need firm handling as a boisterous yearling. She sighed heavily and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. She would have to think of something and fast.
Screenshot 2021-03-07 at 15.43.07 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally was a firm believer in fate, but even she couldn't believe her luck when she saw a Facebook post from her old friend Pam Boardman that morning.
'Any of my horsey friends know of a horse for loan please? Looking around 16hh, preferably within ten miles of Penllyn, something to bring on would be super. PM me.'
Sally picked up her phone and dialled Pam's number.
Sally gets some bad news, and it threatens to take the carpet from beneath her feet. Luckily, fate conspires to give not just Sally, but someone else, some good news...
IMG_2468 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally picked up one of Rufus' tug toys and grimaced as a sharp pain seared through her hip as she stood up again. She'd already taken her morning dose of co-codamol, so she'd just have to put up with it until later that evening.
She'd struggled with arthritis the past few years; one didn't get to their sixties without a little iscomfort now and then, but Sally had to concede that the discomfort had been getting worse. Unbeknownst to anyone on the yard (not even Sarah) Sally had seen a specialist a couple of weeks ago about it, who had hummed and hawed, poked and prodded her and sent her for a scan, with the promise of an online follow up appointment.
Screenshot 2021-03-07 at 15.26.25 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"I'm afraid it's osteoarthritis," the specialist had said, gently.
"Okay, so painkillers, maybe an injection, then I can get back to riding," she said, briskly. "Thank you for your time, doctor-"
"Wait a minute, Ms. Rees," said the specialist, and smiled kindly at her.
The specialist explained as gently as she could, that it appeared Sally had some quite severe degeneration in her right hip, but it also looked as though the left hip was starting to deteriorate too. The only long term option would be surgery, with a total replacement of both hips. Riding would have to be on the back burner for a while.
"I'm afraid there will be a considerable backlog for surgery due to the pandemic," said the specialist. "You could be seen privately, but many other patients will be doing the same."
"How long are we talking?" asked Sally, not sure she wanted the answer.
The specialist smiled apologetically at Sally. "Years, rather than months."
Sally had ended the call, jargon and questions whirling around her mind like fairground waltzers. A few years! She was fortunate that her liveries were mostly DIY, but she still had a lot of work planned on the yard. A new office, indoor arena and cross country training course, and regular maintenance in addition to that. But what about her homebred gelding, Jack? He was four years old and about ready to break in. She couldn't leave it any longer. Paprika was being wasted in the paddock and Tigerlilly would need firm handling as a boisterous yearling. She sighed heavily and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. She would have to think of something and fast.
Screenshot 2021-03-07 at 15.43.07 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally was a firm believer in fate, but even she couldn't believe her luck when she saw a Facebook post from her old friend Pam Boardman that morning.
'Any of my horsey friends know of a horse for loan please? Looking around 16hh, preferably within ten miles of Penllyn, something to bring on would be super. PM me.'
Sally picked up her phone and dialled Pam's number.
*****
IMG_2472 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Pam had been thrilled to hear from her dear old friend Sally. They'd worked together at a veterinary practice in Pembrokeshire many years ago and had been firm friends ever since. Pam was a competent rider in her fifties, with springy auburn hair and a kind face. She'd just lost her old gelding, Prince, to navicular and Sally had messaged and asked if she'd like to come and see Jack.
Pam made her way onto the yard, noting how neat and well-maintained everything was. How very Sally, she thought to herself; she could see the love and care that had been put into this place.
IMG_2473 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally hobbled out to greet Pam, and the two embraced. "Lovely to see you, Pam!"
"Likewise. Lovely yard you've got here, Sally. And you only moved in what, a couple of years ago?"
"Yes, it will be four years in June. It's still a work in progress! Come and have a look, see what you think."
IMG_2475 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Pam followed Sally around, pleased to hear the pride in her friend's voice as she showed her every part of the yard, everything in apple pie order.
IMG_2476 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"This is the new barn we renovated last spring," said Sally, "it's where we keep the ponies. Myrddin is a new one, a friend was selling him and he was too good not to buy. Idris belongs to a little girl called Fizz, she's one of my liveries."
"It's super, it really is," said Pam,, running her fingers over the woodwork, and reaching out to give Myrddin a pat.
IMG_2477 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"And this is Jack, or Jackanory," said Sally, as they drew closer to the main block of stables. A beautiful grey face appeared over the half door and Pam exclaimed a low cry of delight.
"Oh, he's lovely, Sally! What a beautiful boy!"
Pam reached out her hand to the gelding, who whickered softly and lipped at her fingers. Tears sprang to Pam's eyes; losing Prince had been painful. Unbeknownst to Pam, tears were in Sally's eyes too. She was sad that she wouldn't get to break in Jack, bred from her best hunter, Lyra, who she'd lost a couple of years ago to colic. Jack was a connection to a past that had long gone now, and now that she wouldn't be able to ride for a couple of years at best, the last tie was in danger of being severed.
IMG_2479 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"I bred him out of Lyra. Thank goodness I did, because I lost her two years later."
Pam nodded her approval. "He's got his dam's looks, for sure." She stroked his velvety nose. "So he's unbroken?"
"Yes," said Sally with a heavy sigh. "I got some bad news from the doctors the other day. I've got bad arthritis, and I'm going to need a double hip replacement. But they mightn't be able to treat me for years, what with the waiting lists because of Covid. I was hoping to bring him on myself, but I won't be able to really, and I didn't want to let just anyone ride him."
Pam blinked. "Well, I should say I'm honoured that you think I'm capable, Sally, but I'm worried I won't be good enough for him."
"That's nonsense and you know it," said Sally firmly. "We've known each other, what, twenty five years?"
"Twenty-six," whispered Pam.
"-and I've seen you ride. There's nobody I'd trust more with him. It's up to you of course, but I'll not listen to another word about you not being good enough for him."
Pam gave Sally's hand a squeeze. "You're a good friend."
IMG_2480 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally led Jack outside and tied him up so that Pam could see him properly and handle him. Sally was a gentle yet firm natural horsewoman and had brought Jack up to have impeccable manners. He stood as meekly as a lamb as Pam brushed his soft coat vigorously and picked out his feet.
IMG_2482 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"He's lovely," said Pam, rummaging in her pockets for treats and offering them to Jack, who stretched his neck to her palm eagerly. "I'd love to loan him, if you're happy."
"I can't think of anyone I'd rather have," Sally reassured her.
IMG_2472 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Pam had been thrilled to hear from her dear old friend Sally. They'd worked together at a veterinary practice in Pembrokeshire many years ago and had been firm friends ever since. Pam was a competent rider in her fifties, with springy auburn hair and a kind face. She'd just lost her old gelding, Prince, to navicular and Sally had messaged and asked if she'd like to come and see Jack.
Pam made her way onto the yard, noting how neat and well-maintained everything was. How very Sally, she thought to herself; she could see the love and care that had been put into this place.
IMG_2473 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally hobbled out to greet Pam, and the two embraced. "Lovely to see you, Pam!"
"Likewise. Lovely yard you've got here, Sally. And you only moved in what, a couple of years ago?"
"Yes, it will be four years in June. It's still a work in progress! Come and have a look, see what you think."
IMG_2475 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Pam followed Sally around, pleased to hear the pride in her friend's voice as she showed her every part of the yard, everything in apple pie order.
IMG_2476 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"This is the new barn we renovated last spring," said Sally, "it's where we keep the ponies. Myrddin is a new one, a friend was selling him and he was too good not to buy. Idris belongs to a little girl called Fizz, she's one of my liveries."
"It's super, it really is," said Pam,, running her fingers over the woodwork, and reaching out to give Myrddin a pat.
IMG_2477 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"And this is Jack, or Jackanory," said Sally, as they drew closer to the main block of stables. A beautiful grey face appeared over the half door and Pam exclaimed a low cry of delight.
"Oh, he's lovely, Sally! What a beautiful boy!"
Pam reached out her hand to the gelding, who whickered softly and lipped at her fingers. Tears sprang to Pam's eyes; losing Prince had been painful. Unbeknownst to Pam, tears were in Sally's eyes too. She was sad that she wouldn't get to break in Jack, bred from her best hunter, Lyra, who she'd lost a couple of years ago to colic. Jack was a connection to a past that had long gone now, and now that she wouldn't be able to ride for a couple of years at best, the last tie was in danger of being severed.
IMG_2479 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"I bred him out of Lyra. Thank goodness I did, because I lost her two years later."
Pam nodded her approval. "He's got his dam's looks, for sure." She stroked his velvety nose. "So he's unbroken?"
"Yes," said Sally with a heavy sigh. "I got some bad news from the doctors the other day. I've got bad arthritis, and I'm going to need a double hip replacement. But they mightn't be able to treat me for years, what with the waiting lists because of Covid. I was hoping to bring him on myself, but I won't be able to really, and I didn't want to let just anyone ride him."
Pam blinked. "Well, I should say I'm honoured that you think I'm capable, Sally, but I'm worried I won't be good enough for him."
"That's nonsense and you know it," said Sally firmly. "We've known each other, what, twenty five years?"
"Twenty-six," whispered Pam.
"-and I've seen you ride. There's nobody I'd trust more with him. It's up to you of course, but I'll not listen to another word about you not being good enough for him."
Pam gave Sally's hand a squeeze. "You're a good friend."
IMG_2480 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
Sally led Jack outside and tied him up so that Pam could see him properly and handle him. Sally was a gentle yet firm natural horsewoman and had brought Jack up to have impeccable manners. He stood as meekly as a lamb as Pam brushed his soft coat vigorously and picked out his feet.
IMG_2482 by Helen Davies, on Flickr
"He's lovely," said Pam, rummaging in her pockets for treats and offering them to Jack, who stretched his neck to her palm eagerly. "I'd love to loan him, if you're happy."
"I can't think of anyone I'd rather have," Sally reassured her.