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Duncan profile Duncan's Story line art

Duncan is a horse of such importance in my life that he has always seemed ever-present despite the accident that separated us for several years. He came to me greenbroke at the age of four, a Lipizzan gelding by the registered name of Pluto Gladys. I immediately christened him with the barn name of Duncan. (In truth, he chose it from a long list of possibilities, but that's another kind of story.) Duncan is classic Lipizzan who bonds closely and sweetly with those who respond to him on the level he demands, doesn't bother to notice people who offer him inadvertent equine rudenesses, and refuses to suffer fools at any level. He's a complex and talented character any way you look at him. This is our story together so far.



Duncan Arrives, late '95-96

Duncan arrived a freshly gelded young fellow determined to carry on with life as a stallion regardless of all physical evidence. He installed himself as a Person of Presence, and displayed an awesome temper (and a large vocabulary). I first realized just how unusually self-aware he was when we were practicing canter departs and after he persisted in picking up the incorrect lead, I fooled him into departing on the correct lead by leg yielding slightly toward the long wall and picking up the canter going into the short end of the ring. He took three strides, realized what I'd done, and pitched a giant fit of Mad with audible grunting curses and a huge burst of speed. Duncan not only had opinions, he had many of them, and at this stage was pretty much analogous to a teenager bumping his head against the rules of life.


Duncan's Summer '97

Duncan has spent his time more quietly than last year, which may as well be called the Summer of His Restless Youth.  This year, he's learning to be a gentleman.  He's discovered lateral work, forgotten how to do canter departs, learned that he might just live even if he does go through that mud puddle (well, maybe not), rediscovered canter departs, and even had an Outing at a Sally O'Connor Clinic.  Since we don't interrupt our lives with horse shows, Duncan's outings are rare--that makes them each a Big Deal.


And into Fall '97

Duncan heads into fall already thickly furry, defying forecasts of a mild winter here by Lake Ontario.  Hunting season is about to start, so our rides in the fallow fields next to the barn are almost at an end.  We've made good use of our time and now he's learned he can blast along the side of a field and still come down into a nice calm trot.  He's improved tremendously in his lateral work--now that he's decided it won't kill him--and is starting shoulder-in at the trot.  Meanwhile, there's been a...


Pasture Coup!

Duncan is no longer the Studliest of Them All!  A new gelding in the herd has taken over that weighty responsibility, and Duncan seems to be glad for the break.  As long as someone's doing the job, he says, and ignores the girls completely.  Whoa!  Check his temp!


The Cheez-Its Moment

Lately Duncan has taken to doing things that make me go Ooh!  Three steps in a row of perfect shoulder-in...a floating trot across the pasture...finding and sticking to a balanced frame and managing to keep his shoulders level through corner after corner...

But he quickly manages to put things in perspective for me.  The important things in life, he tells me, are the Cheez-Its.  And now that he's discovered they exist, he seems totally focused on maintaining the correct level of cheese on his breath.


Spring Excitements '98

Duncan's had an interesting winter growing up. He spent some time in another barn and learned that it's okay for life to change sometimes, and drove the lesson home for himself by responding to spring shots with a huge abcess that required stall rest and lots of hands-on treatment. Meanwhile he decided that he was a real schmoozle-bunny and perfected his arched-neck, big-eyed "don't I deserve a treat?" expression.

Upon returning to his usual barn, he turned into a bully magnet and sustained a bad kicking injury to a tendon on his off hind. He's a pro, now, and stands in the aisle untied while the humans fuss around him and handle his owies. He's on very light work to keep the leg limber while not stressing it.

Between injuries, Duncan has put his time to good use. He's learned how to free up his shoulders and stifles, and how to balance himself so he can use the power in his haunches and hind legs. He's still figuring it all out and sometimes gets too much energy stuck in his haunches without knowing what to do with it, in which case we get levades.

Owning a Lipizzan is never dull!


Summer Ends with a Bang '98

Duncan spent the summer reveling in the new things he could do. He learned to truly come through to the bit, and took on the habit of carrying himself in a lovely balance. He started learning collection, and astonished both of us sometimes with what he was able to do. Riding a collected Lippizan and then asking for forward is like riding rocket thrusters...

It was not to last, of course. In the first week of October, he sustained another pasture injury. The same bully? Only he can tell us, and he's not talking. He's on stall rest while we cross our fingers and hope for his badly sprained stifle to heal. I've moved him to a barn closer to home so I can give him the daily care he needs right now, which includes hand-walking, bran mash treats, and extra kisses for his nose. He is unbearably sweet and patient about it all.


Thanksgiving, and Duncan in Trouble

Well, it's time to roll out the good thoughts, prayers, spells, or however you choose to try to affect the universe. Duncan's stall rest did nothing to heal his injury, and he's slated for surgery during Thanksgiving week. He'll be trailered to Cornell University, where veterinary surgeons will use an arthroscopic procedure to determine the exact nature of his stifle injury. Stifles, because of their location and complexity (think human knee), are the hardest of equine leg joints to treat, and an injury this severe is inevitably career-ending. At this point we're simply doing our best to make sure it doesn't leave him completely lame, and hoping that careful management will mean he can go back, at least on some level, to the dressage he loves.

And he does love it. I hadn't realized how much until I was instructed to cease hand-walking him. His morale immediately plummeted. He became difficult for others to handle, and in desperation--knowing I could not send him to Cornell to be handled by complete strangers in that condition--I put his bridle on and started walking him twice around the ring, slowly, doing jaw relaxation exercises and minor body positioning. Within days he was almost his old self again. Apparently he's as addicted to dressage as I am.

The surgery is on Tuesday the 24th. If you have a good thought to spare, please send it Duncan's way.


An Uncertain Future

Surgery is over; Duncan came through it well and was a lovely gentleman for his entire stay at Cornell, where his attending student Keith kept him spotless and in good spirits. Diagnosis and prognosis are not nearly so upbeat. He's destroyed a ligament in his leg which cannot be repaired. Surgical placement of temporary sutures to stablize the joint while scar tissue forms was successful, and our hope is that, after many months of complete stall rest, enough scarring will form to keep the joint in correct alignment and prevent the development of painful arthritis.

Other than that, his future--compared to the outlook just a few months ago--is bleak. He has some chance of being used for light riding--perhaps for trails. In the past, he hasn't thought much of them, but if the joint is sturdy enough to support a rider, I'll spend the summer trying to change his mind.

Meanwhile, he's living with a friend who is much closer to Cornell than I, so he can avoid trailering on that leg to return home. His temporary home is a nicely busy barn, where people stop to talk to him and there's always something interesting to watch in the aisle. He has many toys in his stall and more to come. Our job now is to keep him happy through his long confinement.



Duncan Emerges, spring '99

After a long, long winter of confinement, Duncan received an outstanding report from Cornell and moved up to hand-walking. He quickly regained some of the muscle he'd lost, and has tried to convince us he's ready for jogging in hand, but we'll wait for Cornell's report.

I've made the difficult decision to keep him with his trainer and my friend, who has the expertise to rehabilitate him properly and to give him the best chance for a thoroughly happy life. I receive constant reports on his progress. It's not the same as having him with me, but as ever, I must do what is best for Duncan.

Soon he'll see the vets at Cornell again, and we hope he'll get the okay for restricted turn-out. There's a brand-new, recovery-sized paddock waiting just for him. He'll be so delighted at that new freedom! Until then he's living in a double-size box stall, waiting for the silly humans to let him be a fun-loving horse again.

Duncan in the Sunshine, summer '99

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Thanks to the dedicated care of the folks at Whisper Hill Equestrian Center, Duncan continues to recover beyond all expectations. While he can never overcome his missing stifle ligament, careful rehabilitation--both mental and physical--have left him sound at liberty.

Recently, Duncan progressed to the point where he could be turned out--his first taste of real freedom in 10 months, and he's done wonderfully--so well that he now has a mild-mannered pasture pal, a little American Saddlebred, to keep him company. They already play like old friends.

Next for Duncan...more slow and careful conditioning. Some long-rein work, to start him in training without stressing that leg. At one point we only expected that he'd ever manage light trails, but at this point we're hoping he still has dressage in his future. Certainly not what he used to be able to do...but enough with which to play.

And if you click on that teeny image of him up there, you can see Duncan on his first day of turn-out. I think we'll call this one a victory lap.


Heartbreakers, Fall 2000

The thing about owning a horse is that you always do what's best for him, no matter what it does to you. Duncan has recovered far beyond what Cornell predicted, and although his stifle is wobbly, restricting what can be asked of him, he shows no signs of actual lameness. That he could have done upper level movements before the accident was never in doubt (I rode enough unintended courbettes to know!), but he doesn't know that; he only knows that he's active and happy.

However, as I prepare to move across the country, it's clear that he's better off where he is. He's close to Cornell and he's with expert caretakers. He has the best kind of life I could have hoped for him once I learned the severity of his injury, even if I'd always planned for that life to be with me. So while I'm moving west...Duncan will stay east. For him, it's a story with the happiest possible ending. For me it's like cutting off a piece of myself and leaving it behind.

But as I said...it's always about what's best for the horse.


And time passes... Winter, 2002

It's interesting the way life changes sometimes. I've been in Arizona a year, and apart from Duncan for several. In truth, I never expected to see him again. But suddenly there's a grey horse in the paddock and it's Duncan. He's doing very well in all respects, and is about to divide his time between dressage tune-ups for his weak leg (with me in the saddle) and trail riding to keep fit (with a new co-owner aboard). Even though suddenly things are much different than they seemed when I wrote the previous update, I've decided to leave it in...just to show you, you never know. I don't question my original decision--it was the best one at the time. But things do change...and they have. So here he is!


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Friday January 21 2005