Ali - My Teacher, My Friend (Part Two)

By Samantha - Leah Tobias

If you missed Part One, click here.

We had a repeat of the performance of Ali kicking out, but this time he collapsed. The vet was brought out yet again, “Colic”. I disagreed with him. The horse was trembling, almost as if his limbs were in spasm. Ali was a very sick horse. By this time I was at the end of my tether with him. I had spent a fortune on his veterinary treatment and had endless sleepless nights sitting with him. I had to get to the bottom of this. After making inquiries, I took him to a clinic in Yorkshire where they treated horses only using Alternative therapies.

Blood tests had shown Ali had eaten something that didn't agree with him. On top of the lethargy, we had the stumbling; Ali always wanted to walk on grass, not on hard ground. As I took him off the trailer and removed his blanket I was asked, 'How long has your horse had Chronic Hepatitis?' Reeling from that, I was informed he had kidney damage, liver damage, no immune system, all his body was stiff, his off hind leg would require a great deal of physiotherapy, his shoulders were stiff, and he had been poisoned. I was shocked and upset.

Ali had apparently ingested Ragwort, Yew and holly berries over a long period of time and was only the third horse they had ever seen in such a sorry state. I left Ali, came home and hunted the field. Ragwort was rife. I hadn't known what it was, or that it was dangerous. I assumed a farmer would not have risked putting animals in a field with poisonous plants and who were sometimes prone to eating the weeds if the grazing was poor, which ours was. We even found dead Ragwort in the hay.

After three weeks, I went back to collect Ali. He was quite thin, but the lumps on his side were completely gone. His eyes were slowly becoming less cloudy, but there was a slight doubt that he might have impaired vision in his left eye. They gave me a diet sheet and strict instructions on how to keep him, which was basically as near natural as possible. His whole body was full of toxins, his immune system couldn't cope any more with injections, and indeed the last one given to him by the vet had caused his entire neck and shoulders to swell to almost double their normal size. The list was endless. I made a vow from that point forward that I would treat Ali only with Homoeopathic medicines.

Once home, he settled down into a nice routine. I was ultra careful of everything. I was frightened of putting him in the field in case he ate Ragwort, so he was stabled, and just ridden out a lot, or we had a team of helpers who sat with him when he was in to keep him company. This went on for about a week, and then I was told I could use the Stallion paddock for a few hours whilst the Stallion was in.

I was delighted and led Ali out. He threw himself about, like he used to, and galloped off to roll. It was a lovely sight. I walked back to the stable, and within a minute heard Ali whinnying. The only times he did this were if he was on his own and it was near feed time, or if he was hurt. We all ran back to the field where we saw Ali completely wrapped up in wire, barbed and plain. He had been frightened by the calves that were in his field, and had run through the entire fence line of two fields. He was dripping blood from everywhere. Not a part of his body was clean. I kept as calm as I could, hit him with Rescue Remedy and Aconite, gently syringed his wounds, first with luke warm water, then with salt water. I did nothing else.

In the evening when I went to check on Ali, the two very big cuts on his upper thigh, which measured approximately eight inches long by about two inches wide each, were beginning to 'fill up' naturally. He was reasonably happy under the circumstances, and I re-dosed him with Rescue Remedy, Aconite and added Hypericum.

In the morning I was relatively pleased with the way the wounds appeared to be healing. Everyone was telling me he needed stitches but I stood firm. Twice a day I would salt water cleanse the smaller cuts and just use Hypercal, but on the two big ones on his off hind, I had a lotion made up (white lotion). I treated those wounds as described in the Homeopath’s notes.

Ali eventually healed up completely with scars that were barely visible. In fact, all his cuts healed up well. The only troublesome one was in the heel of his near hind. I hadn't noticed this originally, there was so much blood, and the ones on his leg seemed to be the trouble, so in actual fact, I missed this. It did heal eventually, after many months, but it did leave some very nasty scars. We tried using vitamin E oil, which did reduce the scarring a little, but not enough to let him continue to be shown. Despite all Ali had been through, he always came home with a few ribbons bless him.

The cut on his face and around his eye had healed and showed no scar, and I carried on then with his treatment for Kidney/Urinary complaints, no immune system etc. as described in the notes on Ali. You name it. This horse had it!! Through all of the pain and discomfort and despite the obvious lethargy, he worked so hard for me. I knew Ali was ill, but I still didn't know what it was.

I rode him regularly, but I treated him with kid gloves, in return, he tried his best for me in Dressage, Show jumping, Cross-country, etc. Ali did all of this during the worst three years of his little life.

I continued to keep him on the yard until I got down one morning to find dry Ragwort in his hay. I went berserk. I tacked him up, rode to another yard, explained my problem, and within two hours we had moved. I thought things would improve, but they didn't. Ali was still showing certain signs of discomfort but I was an old hand now and didn't panic. It was hard trying to explain to people why I treated him so carefully. I don't think anyone believed he had been through so much. It got to the stage where I felt I was a crank, and I refused to talk to anybody about Ali or his health. I just did what I had to quietly. People thought he was just idle, lazy etc. but I knew differently and it was hard listening to them passing such remarks about this lovely brave horse.

He continued to get into mischief, though not as often now. Age was on his side; he was past the 'youngster' bit and settled down a bit. Ali still had the occasional mad fling around the field, but injuries were now rare. He was always up and down with odd bouts of mild colic, or indigestion, but we coped without a vet. He never had another injection.

It was about this time; Ali was now around eight years of age that I began to feel I could understand him that he was often trying to tell me things. I cannot explain this in words. It was a feeling. I still get it with people I am close to, and the odd horse I may be schooling. 

When I think back on when his little mare was taken away and sold, Ali was on his own for a while, despite all the attention we gave him, he became sick. This was actually before his last collapse, so the vet did come out and announced Ali was being treated for "stress".

This was probably the first time I understood that a horse had feelings, and reacted as we would. I began to learn a lot just by watching him in the field, in the stable, not so much under saddle. When he is out on a ride with me, he always seemed okay. He trusted me to look after him and vice versa. Ali had always been a good horse in that way. Confident. No vices; a real sweetie. I began to list all the 'odd' things he did, just for the record.

When we moved to another yard opposite where I live, he really did seem to come on in leaps and bounds. It took another year, but we were getting there! I recall one night; I had left Ali, as usual about 4:30 p.m. and would normally check him around 8:30 p.m. Not long after I had been in, I felt something strange. I flew back to the yard and found Ali in the throes of a fully-fledged colic attack. 

The yard owner came out to help me as I drenched him, fed him on homoeopathic pills one after the other, and stayed until he seemed settled. Ali’s breathing was hard, but the colic appeared to be under control. I visited again about midnight, and he was doing okay. In the morning he was happy enough, so out he went.

I wandered into the field and walked all up the edge where the houses were. At one house, where all the horses seemed to get petted, and the owners adored them, I noticed an apple tree. I had had problems with Ali years prior with apples. I fed him some in a feed, and they must have made him feel ill. For days he wouldn't eat, then we decided to leave the apples out, and he ate his feed happily. We decided then that Ali could not eat apples. 

I called the house owners who came out, explained to them Ali's problem and they were really good. They cut off all overhanging branches and pulled off any apples that were left. I only assumed this was the problem, but from that day, he never had an attack like that. In fact, he had only had two major colic bouts in those past three years.

Another thing that had suddenly loomed was the fact that Ali could not have carrots. A few years ago, we had what I called 'stop/start syndrome'. We would be out on a hack and for no known reason Ali would stop. He would not move until he was ready. This could go on for an hour or more, then he may pass some droppings, after which he seemed to be fine. This always happened between October through May, carrot time. 

The next autumn, I stopped his carrots and the problem subsided. On looking into what may have caused the problem I found out carrots, if taken in excess, were toxic, particularly if there were any problems with the liver. This applied to humans, but it was the only explanation I could find which came anywhere near to solving Ali's problem.

His first winter on the new yard brought out a bad case of Mud Rash, which was treated and never returned, even when the other horses were covered in it, Ali seemed immune. His last misadventure was to get a nail in his foot. Despite the fact that I cleaned his feet out thoroughly at least twice a day, I missed it.

The first day Ali was not striding out, his trot felt odd, but I was reliably informed by the BHSI (British Horse Society Instructor) on our yard, Ali was just being lazy because I was making him work harder! The second day, the heat and swelling were very obvious. I hosed his leg from top to bottom, checked everywhere and still never saw the offending nail. By this time, it had been reliably diagnosed that Ali had Lymphangitis.

Well, the third day arrived. I was determined to sort this out. All homoeopathic treatments had failed for sprains, strains, bruising etc. I scrubbed his back foot until it was absolutely spotless. I used a toothbrush to make sure I got into all those little places, and I saw a glint of something just in the cleft of his frog. I couldn't get at it, so very slowly I just worked some of the sole away, and with a pair of fine pliers I pulled this nail out. Ali's leg shot back and then he dropped his head and breathed a huge sigh, as if to say 'about bloody time'. Then we poulticed it as described, using the now famous disposable nappies. At night it was dressed. In the morning, it was cleaned, no dressing, just Stockholm Tar, and an equiboot and out he went.

Ali had a booster Tetanus, Hypericum and Ledum; no vet, no injections, and recovered.  Another lesson I learned, as before when he was distressed, I didn't pick up his signal. For the three days he had the nail in his foot, every time he saw me on the yard, he whinnied from the field, with all his pals around. This was odd, but it didn't click. This behaviour went on for a while, then he would give up and just carry on eating when he realised I wasn't going out to him.  From then on, if I ever heard him whinnying from the field, I always checked, and everyone on the yard knew that if he did, there was something wrong. The only other times he made a noise was at feed time at night when I’d go back, early in the morning, or if he was put out first in the morning and was on his own in the field. Other than that, he was quiet.

If I gave attention to another horse, or any animal within sight of his stable Ali sulked. If I raised my voice, rare though it was, he sulked. It could go on for days. He would turn his backend towards me, ignore any attempt on my part to cuddle him and just throw his head around, it really was quite strange.

Ali was a delightful horse to own, well disciplined, kind, willing, gentle, obliging, fun, and very handsome. I had learned a great deal about horse psychology from him. I backed and schooled him myself, and although at the time, I never realised what he was doing, now I look back and recall all the silly things that happened when I thought he was just being plain awkward, when in fact he was either feeling totally unwell, confused by my attempts to school him, or just downright stubborn rather than scared. 

Ali developed a cough. He would cough a great deal, and I would then rest him for a week.  This little game went on for a while, until one day, after he had coughed I ignored it, and carried on schooling him... he never did cough again. If when being ridden, Ali was asked to do something he couldn’t understand or which hurt him, he stopped and stamped a back leg. If you continued to push him, he kicked out, or stamped a foot in 'temper'. I have got it on tape and it nearly always occurred when he was being asked to do lateral work or a movement that caused him discomfort.

I've been through Anaemia with him, and following treatment, had blood tests done again, with a slight improvement, so I know what I did with him worked.

One of his later problems was his spleen, which apparently was swollen, and causing him pain, as were his kidneys.

I did a lot of massage on him using essential oils, acupuncture, and acupressure. Plenty of stretching exercises and hand massage which he seemed to enjoy. I had so many different people working on him, claiming they knew what his problem was. It took a lot of patience for me to get together a very small team of people to assist me in looking after Ali. He had a McTimoney chiropractor, the people at Furlongs Challenge and Dodson and Horrell, and the last recruit who stunned and amazed me, Nicki Mackay who talked to Ali for about two hours. The result of this little chat is documented. Following her 'treatment', lots of odd things happened, and I found myself being very careful what I said anywhere near Ali or any horse for that matter. If they can actually understand words, as Nicki said they could, horse owners are in trouble. 

In one telephone conversation, Nicki had gathered Ali was not himself and had rung me to find out how he was. She and Ali got on well, and I believe she could sense a problem, which is just what she did. She was firmly convinced that we were so close, something she hadn't seen with any other horse owners, and I was pretty much on Ali's wavelength. She maintained that in time I would be able to understand what he tried to convey. For instance, when my back was bad, she told me to go to Ali and tell him to tone it down, which I did, and within a few hours at most, my backache had gone. Once he’d been a bit miserable so I asked him why, and also told him we were going to spend more time together. Then it clicked, he could smell all the other horses on my coat and me and was upset. If I had no time for him, how come I had time for them?

I told Nicki and she said I was spot on. Ali told her he loved me and worried about losing me. I know I caused some of his problems, but as I explained to her, I can't sort things out overnight, the problem is mine and long term, so Ali would just have to get used to it. I explained to him that as long as he was well and happy then I was okay hoping he would shake himself out of this really weird mood, but talking to Nicki, she felt that Ali couldn’t help himself, this is where the mirroring came in.

Sometimes he made himself ill to draw my attention to something going wrong in my life, and on rare occasions, to get my attention focused onto him. He had recently become quite unaffectionate which was definitely not Ali. He has been refusing to come to the gate to come in and made me walk over eight acres to fetch him, which again was odd. On the day I was late, everyone had tried to get him in, but he wouldn't be caught, and even in the dark, way past feed time, he still made me actually go and get him. It was only since I spoke to Nicki and then literally just stood in front of Ali and asked him what his problem was, that he started, only slightly, to be nice again. It is hard to explain, it sounds weird, but having heard the things I did, I have no doubts that Nicki can talk to horses, she definitely spoke to Ali. Now I know why he used to be nicknamed Mr. Ed.

Published August 2003