We’ve been ticking along through the winter. Lindsay continues to fill my head (and heart) with knowledge about riding in true harmony with Mac. Every new lesson begins on the ground, giving Mac the chance to learn without the added complication of a rider on his back. We focus on building his strength gradually, making sure he’s physically capable of what we’re asking.
We forage – it’s great to see what they pick to eat
Alongside Mac’s progress, we work on me, the bent shoulders, the crookedness through my body, and a whole set of Pilates exercises that really do make a difference. Slowly but surely, some of the old riding habits that don’t serve the horse begin to fall away. (It’s definitely still a work in progress.) Mac seems to approve. He’s brighter, more willing, and just… happier.
We’re still following the supplement regime for PSSM2, and the signs are good. In our lessons, he now powers straight down the long sides. We no longer have to stop halfway through for a snooze (yes, really, that was a regular thing in the early months). We’ve reintroduced canter, first from the ground, and now from the saddle. It’s stronger, more confident. He’s no longer ‘Eeyore’ around the yard, he moves with purpose. We hack for longer. He flies around the Somerford Farm Ride like he owns it.
Rachel Chadfield, Mac’s physio, continues to visit regularly. She assesses Mac’s musculoskeletal health, treats areas of tension with Indiba therapy, and tracks how his body is adapting to the work we’re doing. At her most recent visit, she could feel real improvement, but noted he’s still carrying a lot of tightness through his shoulders. One issue I can’t seem to get on top of is his persistent cough.
We attend a training session across the 80 acres at Somerford. It’s like riding another pony. Mac coughs through the entire session and feels like he’s wading through treacle, heavy, stuck, lacking spark, we have to put him behind another lead horse to encourage him forward. The trainer isn’t impressed and strongly recommends we get him scoped.
So, we do. The scope doesn’t show anything obvious, but when the tube goes down, Mac coughs, hard, and the vet is surprised. She prescribes steroids. I’m sceptical, as always of the route that leads to big pharma. But of course, I follow my instructions…
Mac and Me 