Eventing Nation mourned with Laine Ashker last month when her lovely gelding The Big Island passed away due to complications following colic/exploratory surgery. I asked Laine to write a tribute piece to Lyle for her next EN column. She also brings us an update on the USEF High Performance Spring Training Sessions and explains why we won’t be seeing Anthony Patch at Rolex this year (hint — it involves a trip to Pau!). Take it away, Laine!
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By Alexandra Arabak
The problem with horses is that one canʼt ever get too comfortable. For as elegant and sturdy as they appear, horses are actually quite fragile and capricious in nature when it comes to their health, both internal and external. This past month has been somewhat of a whirlwind filled with many moments that I will remember forever and those that I only hope to forget.
As many of you have already heard through the respective online “grapevine,” I lost my horse, The Big Island, on February 13 midday due to a ruptured cecum. Lyle had been dealing with small bouts of “colitis” for about a year and after taking him to over three of the nationʼs top equine hospitals across the country for gastroscopies, ultrasounds and whatever other stomach work-up that can be done, it was determined that his “flora” was off kilter and to immediately put him on Succeed. Everything seemed to have been progressing forward until we arrived in Ocala at the beginning of the year, where his small bouts of colitis re-appeared. More tests were taken — from fecals to blood work-ups, in addition to more ultrasounds and scans — only to find that I had a perfectly healthy 18.1-hand 7-year-old horse who was clearly in great discomfort.
On my birthday, February 10, the decision was made by my mother, myself and the great Dr. Hughes of Peterson and Smith Equine Hospital to open Lyle up for an exploratory/colic surgery to see if we could find some answers to what was ailing my poor boy. Mom and I watched through the early hours of the morning as our brave boy underwent surgery, and we were there to be with him as he came out of the anesthesia. Dr. Hughes found Lyle to have a displaced colon and, although she didnʼt think it to be the overall answer to his past ailments, we were relieved to know that it was a temporary fix and we could be well on our way to having our boy back in the shed row Floridian barn within weeks. He was making great steps the first day out of surgery as I constantly took him on strolls around the premises, allowing him to graze for a while as his massive body soaked up the Vitamin D from the embracing Florida sunshine. His morale was high, as was his appetite, which gave the vets, my mom, and I a small sense of relief.
Forty-eight hours post surgery, Lyle took a turn for the worse, which would eventually lead to his demise. A ruptured cecum, the vets said, something so random and small that proved to be so deadly and final. I laid in the stall, stroking Lyleʼs head, embracing his final breaths of being a living entity, watching his stomach as his pulsating breaths slowly dissipated. How fragile these creatures are and yet how vulnerable we become for them. Lyle, like all of my horses, is my family. Unlike all of my other horses, Lyle was known for his tall stature in addition to his astonishing looks. He was mighty and intimidating in presence, but his attitude was anything but. Always a perfect gentleman, Lyle showed up for work on time and in great spirits on a daily basis. What he may have lacked in floaty, lofty movement he made up for in heart, as he never had a single cross-country jump penalty in his short-lived career, which included four intermediates as a 6-year-old. He gave me confidence that I have only had the honor of finding on a select few horses, and I felt limitless when bounding across the country on the California-bred bay gelding. His loss will haunt me for years to come, but I will find great relief in the memories we shared. I only hope that somewhere in heaven some little girl is now realizing her dream of what itʼs like to ride a real four-star horse … and I bet heʼs loving every minute of it.
Roadstar has stepped in as Lainey's mount for the USEF High Performance Spring Training Sessions.
On a lighter note, my other horses have really stepped up since the loss of Lyle. Roadstar has easily qualified for a one-star, which I hope to compete come mid-April. He has been my stand-in for Al in the USEF High Performance Training Sessions here in Ocala this month, and I have been very proud to show off this young up-and-coming talented Thoroughbred to David and receiving his helpful advice. Raptor Force has skipped over three training-level events and will soon make the big move up to the green-colored numbers. Although heʼs a sale horse, I am blessed to have him in my string, as he too gives me a ton of confidence and brings in a very positive aura around the barn in a time where things could easily turn sour.
Furthermore, I have made the executive decision with the guidance from my vet, my mother, and my coach to bypass Rolex with Al this spring in order to save his legs for Pau CCI4* in the fall. Being that Al is not a “spring chicken,” I need to make the right choices in regards to planning his show schedule toward the ultimate goal (WEG and Olympics). Although the decision to not run Rolex this year is a hard one for me, I need to do right by my horse as I know he (along with any other horse in the world) has a limited number of four-star XC courses left in him, and I want to make every single one count!
As I grow older in this sport, I have learned that horses are as variable in nature as they are humbling to their human counterparts. You must cherish every moment you share with your equine partner, as you never know just how long youʼll have him in your life. You see, the only other problem about horses is that they have your heart and everything else in life becomes secondary, whether you like it or not. Until next time, guys, sit back, take a deep breath, and give your pony a hug that both you and he will never, ever forget.
RIP The Big Island
