Relative Something

It was a beautiful morning yesterday, with a thick line of fog hovering low across the valley. It completely obscured the view of our neighbor’s buildings on the property south of ours.

The horses were quietly eating from their feed buckets, and Cyndie and I were working together to scoop up manure drops out in the paddocks. Cyndie had her back to the horses, and I was facing them toward the overhang.

Suddenly, a ruckus occurred, and I looked up to see Swings struggling to get out from between Light and the wood fence. When she burst free, it was done very awkwardly. In an instant, before Cyndie could even turn around, Swings was moving right for us, stepping oddly sideways, like she didn’t have control of her body.

I’m not sure how she missed us, because we hardly had time to move, but she brushed past us, flailing sideways the whole way out to the middle of the large paddock. It looked like she was having a seizure of some sort. If not that, my only other perception was of her body being possessed by some entity other than her own.

She stopped moving and dropped her head down low. It reminded me of the way Light behaved when she was in pain from a head wound. After a moment or two, Swings regained her composure. She took a few steps and then laid down to do a normal-looking roll. When she got up from that, she had a moment of shakiness before slowly making her way up the slope toward the overhang to where she was before the whole drama unfolded.

It was the strangest thing I have ever seen in all the years we’ve had horses, but for some reason, not as unsettling as I would expect. It was good to have been there to witness it together. We kept our eyes on Swings for a little longer, but saw no indication of anything out of the ordinary in the time following.

Cyndie immediately reported the incident to the folks at This Old Horse. Since Swings had returned to normal, they felt that no action was necessary beyond watching her closely the rest of the day.

We spent some extra time with the horses in the middle of the day, and Cyndie was able to do some grooming on several of them to varying degrees. It was particularly rewarding to see Mia be so receptive to attention. Cyndie was able to completely brush out her mane, which had been a severe tangle of fairy knots.

Swings seemed fine the rest of the day, leaving us a little mystified about what caused her moment of panic, but it serves to keep us cognizant that she is 31 years old, and each day she makes it through without trouble is a blessing to be cherished.

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