As a card-carrying member of Team Be Anxious About Everything and Assume the Worst I don’t love getting texts from J that start out that way. Especially when “I’ve been meaning to tell you” ends with “Phoebe is definitely a roarer.”Cool.
Cue the anxiety burps (yeah, they’re real and they’re super fun, I just love uncontrollable belching) and mildly irrational thoughts. Such as: she’s never gonna be an appropriate horse for me to ride and I will need to sell her except who would buy a horse that roars. Or: what if I do the tie-back procedure and Phoebe falls in the small percentage of horses who either show no improvement or have complications and she’ll asphyxiate on her hay and no one will notice and I will come home to a dead horse.I know. I’m not at all jumping headfirst down a slippery slope with things like that running through my head. Since I am fairly well versed in how my brain works I pretty much just let the bad thoughts run their course, take a night or two then make a plan. Currently, Phoebe is physically fine. J is not asking her to work beyond her capabilities and there is no damage to her lungs with what is essentially light flatwork at this point in her training. Right now Phoebe needs consistency in her training. I would be wasting my money to take her home and get her evaluated/potentially surgery, then rehab which would very likely put me back at square one with training. So the plan for now is to keep her where she is, then when she comes home to me I will make an appointment to have her scoped at WSU vet school (recommended to me by a trusted friend who owned a horse that roared). Then I can better make a decision on whether or not surgery is the best course, or a career change, just careful fitness, etc.
On a happier note Phoebe has graduated to being ridden off the lunge line and she continues inching forward in the right direction