"Loving Arms"

Every few weeks, I receive an email from Barnmice member and veterinary equine dentist, Geoff Tucker with stories of his practice and travels. He has kindly allowed me to share this very touching story, as well as others as they come around. Enjoy.

A swing on a summer's day

My mind spun while it tried to assess the damage to my body. I had just vaccinated the horse and drawn blood for his Coggins test with no problem. I had started to float his teeth but he objected to the point of requiring drugs. I injected the sedation with no problem. I was just standing there talking to the trainer. As I turned back to the horse to insert my float into his mouth, the drugged horse opened his teeth and lunged as hard as he could at my chest.

The National Show Horse bit me hard in my chest and I was thrown against the wall. I peeled back the layers of goose down, chamois shirt and T-shirt and I saw the skin of my left breast torn. My mouth gaped open in shock as my wide eyes looked at him and then at the owner. The sedated horse just stood there with his head hanging low, asleep and in another world.

I left the barn hoping that my day could continue without a trip to the hospital. I pulled into a parking lot stopping to do a self assessment. I peeled back the clothing and saw purple, red, green, and yellow, but the bleeding had stopped. I decided to continue with my day, though very sore.

My next farm was a pony boarding barn run by the sweetest “old lady” named Ruth. She was in her mid 60’s and lived alone on the farm. She had been the person who had started every adult in the area when they were children. Now she was teaching their children. Everyone loved Ruth and she loved them and lived for her ponies. She called me the “young, handsome vet” and whenever I arrived on her farm for a visit, her energy was equal to a puppy wagging its’ tail.

I pulled into her barnyard and she met me with worried eyes. She saw something was wrong before I had moved a step. This is how horsemen are. They can sense when something is wrong.

I told her about the attack and her eyes gazed at my chest. She demanded to see it. With a glance, then a touch, she took action. Against my protest that I was OK, she left me in the barn and disappeared inside the tack room. I waited as I listened to doors and drawers respond to her search. Soon she emerged carrying items destined for my healing. She took off my outer layers, then skillfully started a leg wrap around my chest incorporating a large ice pack over my wound.

To pass the wrap around me, I automatically lifted my arms into the air as she stepped close to me. With her body pressed against me, the small woman stretched her loving arms around to pass the wrap from one hand to the other. She lingered, then I felt the hug.

Friends

With silence, she finished the job with two more turns around me then taped the ends securely. I suddenly realized that this woman, loved by so many, was very alone. She smiled and her sense of accomplishment was beaming as she stepped back saying, “That will help you a lot.” I knew her love had helped me that day and maybe I had helped her as well.

Ruth was a tough angel to me and all those who entered her life. I had several calls to her farm over the next year and she always inquired about my chest. We all were in shock the day we heard of her death from an asthma attack. She was alone in her house after a long day with the ponies.

Ruth helped so many with their journey into the world of horses and placed her loving arms around so many. We all know of one person like Ruth who have briefly entered our lives to offer us help. This week, for some reason, I thought of her. Maybe we need to take a moment to thank those who have stopped their lives, even for a moment, and put their loving arms around us.