I’ve written a number of posts over the past year or so about EPM and Keil Bay. I admit that as autumn approached this year, which was the one year anniversary of Keil being diagnosed with EPM and PPID, I felt some stress that he might relapse. It wasn’t rational but just the power of the anniversary effect.
In fact, he has not had any new issues this fall going into winter now. We continue to give him the full battery of supplements that I researched and added in with his 90 days of Marquis and 30 days of Rebalance. He continues to get acupuncture, chiropractic, and a Legend injection monthly. We keep a check on his ACTH and other things like vitamin E level via bloodwork. He remains on Prascend and I have Equioxx which I haven’t had to use much this year. I give it if he seems to need it, but generally he does everything he has always done, sometimes more slowly.
Keil Bay sings for his feed tubs, knocks flakes of hay out of the hay barrow as I serve it in the pastures, splashes in the water troughs on hot days, nudges me for peppermints, charms his vets, gives me the stink eye on occasion when I am being silly (like yesterday when I was grooming him and Cody snuck up in the stall behind me and gave me a tender nip on the backside, causing me to scream in surprise), and generally behaves as the benevolent leader he has always been for his little herd.
He drags the hay pillows around, breaks through the stall door now and then when he feels he is not being attended to at the exact right times, touches my arm with his lips very gently to check in, bobs his head until the chiropractor gets to the right place, does his googly eyes during his treatments, and truly enjoys his treats and feed.
He is not the same as before the EPM, but as all the vets remind me, at 32.5 years of age, we cannot know that the slowing down and occasionally cocking a hind leg out when standing are due to the EPM or due to his advancing age. He’s a big horse, and I wish he’d been able to stay remarkably sound and fit and healthy all the way to the end of his life, but he remains happy and he can do what he wants to do. After our recent and much-needed rains, he rolled like he always has and I had to groom his mud-cake self to get his fur clean again.
I remain an overprotective companion to him. If I see a hind leg cocked out, I feel a moment of panic. If he seems the least bit “off” in any way, I get tearful and have to take a few deep breaths. I have told him that I want him to live as long as he can, as long as he is happy and feels good. I also very tearfully told him it’s okay for him to go when he’s ready, and while it will be probably the hardest day of my life, I will help him and I’ll be (eventually) okay with it. I have asked him to do whatever he can to let his passing be quick and easy. If he just fell to the ground with a sudden cardiac event, I would consider that a gift from the universe. But I do hope we have more years to go before that happens. (May it please happen when the time comes though!)
Some may think this is a morbid post, but this is the reality when you live with your horses until the very end of their lives. It is the most difficult thing about loving horses and keeping them with you as they age. But it’s also joyful. I can tell you that every single day I lift Keil’s forelock and see the growing tufts of silver hairs, I revel. They are beautiful and they represent a long and happy life. I see him moving more slowly and I rejoice that he has the kind of life that he feels safe and cared for and loved and knows nothing more will be asked of him but to meander around the farm and enjoy his remaining years.
I am grateful for every day.
This is Keil Bay a few days ago. Something was going on down on the gravel lane and he strode from the bottom of the back pasture to come check it out. This is Keil at 32.5. Oh, how I love him!
