03/26/2017
Torrey, the first foal I bred, Shez Zipped In Sugar, Sheza Zippadonna (Nikki) x Sugars Fancy Man. Was foaled in 2002. Everything went wrong in delivery. Red bag, deprived of oxygen, "dummy" foal, could barely hold her head up, 5 cracked ribs. Thank goodness Dr Steve Reiter was ON IT. She was my first so I was rather clueless. Mary Shirley had graciously allowed the crazy cop/cowgirl with the Quarter Horse to board in the chandelier, skylight, video monitored maternity ward at Rocky Mountain Warmbloods, so I was surrounded by people who knew what they were doing. Off to San Luis Rey Equine Hospital we raced.
On intake prognosis was grim. She was put on IV's and put in ICU. Dr Tina Kemper (one of the best neo natal foal specialists in the country) worked her magic and 48 hours later she was nursing. I hadn't left her side. Across the aisle was a woman, Dawn Mellen who talked softly to a large grey racehorse with a prosthetic leg. I'm not sure how much that horse heard... but I heard her every word. I heard her promise a life of love and green pastures and I promised Torrey the same. I knew if my filly didn't make she would run in green pastures with that great grey horse who sadly died that day.
Torrey started having trouble breathing and Dr Norm Rantanen was brought in for diagnostic imaging. I watched as he explained her chest cavity was full of fluid. Several of her cracked ribs had broken and displaced. I looked at a jagged piece, its side serrated and its tip pointed like an evil knife. I asked what the mass alongside the "knife" was. "Her heart." He replied. No other words were spoken.
Then, in one of my most selfish moments I watched them drain her chest and settled in to watch her suffer. Even if she made it through the night as soon as she bucked, laid down or stood up... the weapon her rib had become would puncture her heart and death would by quick.
When I left that night doubted I would see her alive come morning. Through every moment her Mother, my beloved Nikki stood a calm watch. I told Nikki I was sorry. She reached over the barrier and nuzzled her sleeping daughter. I felt the breath from her nostrils on my cheek and whispered, "I love you too."
Early the next morning Dr Joe Cannon ran up the drive to greet me. I was sure Torrey had died and he was there to stop me from going in the barn. Instead he opened his hand to show me small stainless plates. They were oval, with 2 holes each. Sort of figure 8's or infinity symbols the size of a nickel. He clearly hadn't slept and had put much effort into his creations. I listened as he explained that he though he could stabilize Torrey's ribs with the plates. The surgery was risky, the outcome unknown and had never been done in a foal this young. Of one thing he was certain... without them she wouldn't survive.
Nikki and Torrey were led to the surgery suite. I watched on a TV from a nearby room. Torrey was sedated and wheeled away on a table. The whinny that came from Nikki's heart stopped everyone in their tracks. The guys wheeled Torrey to the stock where Nikki was secured. She touched her nose to the now still filly. All I could think was, "she thinks we killed her". I started crying then... it was hours before I stopped.
Dr Cannon wisely chose the worst rib, the Spyderco to start with. The screws wouldn't hold. Torrey's soft ribs more like cartilage than bone. Cannon sewed the plate in place with sutures. Torrey's fragile state couldn't handle the anesthesia. Twice I watched them stop surgery, rush to adjust machines and stabilize her. As she was wheeled into recovery Cannon explained he was only able to secure the one rib. He had relieved the pressure off her heart but she was not strong enough to survive longer in surgery. I misunderstood what he said. I thought she had died. I looked at the TV screen and saw what I thought was her lifeless body on the table. Then I saw her kick and try to get up. Overwhelmed with confusion I collapsed. As they picked me up from the floor I saw her standing on the TV screen. I was numb.
They explained that as she still had 2 broken and 2 cracked ribs she would have to be kept very still with only controlled movement.
I tried to force my daughter, Stephanie Lynn Lassalle to keep going to school. She had been there for every step of the breeding and pregnancy. Nikki was her horse and Torrey her dream too. I was scared this was all too much for a 14 year old. She didn't say much but years later I would hear her tell stories and realize she hadn't missed anything.
Nikki and Torrey were moved to the treatment barn. Later that day my friend, Deena Jackson wanted to "do some work with her". Deena is a psychic of sorts. Very in-tune to life, its energies and a variety of other things I don't understand. I've learned to not question her as her heart is so pure and kind she leaves everyone she meets a better person.
I told the interns and Doctors Deena was coming. I thought they would think I was crazy. All they said was, "no candles in the barn please."
Deena came, placed large crystals in the corners, placed her hands on Torrey and cried. Nikki still standing her quiet guard. I noticed staff standing at the end of the very busy aisle way. It was then I realized they had kept anyone from passing through. What was always a hub of activity was now a peaceful quiet place.
Deena and I hugged and said goodbye. As I walked back to the stall there was a crowd. "What did she say?" They all wanted to know. I told them that Deena felt a very strong spirit but that the filly didn't understand "why" she should fight. Her life til now had been dark, full of tears, needles and pain. Deena said to "surround her in light" and try to show some "joy".
A tall, young Hispanic male intern then said, "I could carry her out into the sun. Lay her in the grass so she can smell." I so wish I knew this man to thank him. For it is this gesture I am certain saved Torrey's life. She never struggled in his arms. Nikki walked peacefully alongside. Torrey's eyes became bright and curious. The grass tickled her sides. Dirt stuck to her nose. She was 10 days old and the sun warmed her ears for the first time.
5 days later she went home to begin recovery. She needed to be confined in a stall for 90 days to give her ribs a chance to heal. The plated rib was holding the others in proper assignment. At Dr Rantanen's discharge ultrasound he exclaimed, "I'll be damned".
My best friend, Jodi Sharp then lived on a horse property in Fallbrook. She and her husband Ed had been visiting and following Torrey's struggles. Ed took 2 weeks off work, Torrey and Nikki went to Fallbrook. Ed is a big bear of a man. His arms wrapped around Torrey he would "let" her walk around the 12x24 stall. With around the clock meds, love, controlled diet and her Mother standing close by Torrey healed fast.
Months later I brought them back to Rocky Mountain Warmbloods. Torrey was strong. Other than a "dent" and her scars you would never know. I held my breath, and slowly opened the gate leading to the pasture from their stall. Nikki had spent 4 months patiently standing... what would she do now? Eat... that's what she did... took 2 steps and ate grass. Torrey ran, bucked, kicked and snorted. I cried. Nikki ate.
I remembered the promises of grass pasture Dawn and I had made. When the time came to leave RMW I called on yet another friend, Sarah Baldwin. Torrey grew strong and gorgeous in Sarah's pastures. Now weaned she looked ridiculous in a field of Warmbloods yearlings. Thanks to Sandy Arledge and the incredible Warner Ranch Torrey's next years were nothing but fields of Quarter Horses and green grass. She was brought to Far West Farms and started by Debbie Rocha. She then went into training with Liz Place and Gail Willis.
I swore I'd never sell her. But, let's be honest... is a "show" home the "best" for a horse?? When approached by Kim Oakes-West I was hesitant. Kim knew all Torrey's history and thought she would be a perfect match for her and her daughter.
I've never told this story before. Why now?? I sold Ranger last week. Not because I wanted to but because it was best for him. I've bred and raised 16 foals since Torrey. Each one has held all my hopes and dreams. I've put them first and am grateful they have living homes. There have been great times but so many heart aches. I've had some really tough days lately. Questioning why have horses at all.
This morning the first photo that came up on my feed was of Torrey, now called "Lacey" and Kim resting on a ride. I've been typing through tears. I guess it's taken 15 years for me to realize she's really ok!!
I'm going out to kiss all my horses now. Heartaches be damned...
