“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.” ~ Abraham Lincoln
Wadi Farm Chipilly. Born in 2009, she is today a 16.1hh strapping grey Waler mare (old bloodline Percheron/Arab/TB mix), registered with the Waler Society of Australia Inc. She is a beautifully proportioned horse who moves like she's floating on air. Her chest is broad enough to make any athlete jealous. To look at her, you would never think she's had to struggle a day in her life.
You'd be wrong.
The first clue is her name. Chipilly. Our Wadi Farm horses are named after either places near which they were rescued, or people involved in their rescue, or for their Waler connection, in memoriam. Chipilly is named after a place in France where Australians won a battle against the odds.
Description from Australian War Memorial website...
On the 9th August 1918, British troops were to attack Chipilly, near the Somme, at 5:50 pm Brigadier General Mackay of the 1st Brigade requested that an Australian patrol from the 1st Battalion be sent across the river, however this was request was refused. However, an Australian patrol of six men rushed the village, making it through unscathed, dispite heavy fire from the ridge north of the village. At this stage, the Australians had attacked three German posts and captured 31 prisoners. Handing the prisoners to the British troops who had arrived, the Australians then captured another nine prisoners and two machine guns. American troops arrived over the backbone of Chipilly Ridge and mistaking the Australians and their prisoners for Germans fired on them with Lewis guns. The Germans finally broke from the ridge above and the Australians took another 30 prisoners, securing the village of Chipilly.
Chipilly reminds us that we must never be quick to judge. Too many people see her - or see early photos of her - and immediately assume she is some sort of genetically rare or dna unique animal. A chimera or a horse with the mosiac gene. Indeed, her photos (taken by me) have been shared without permission on several photo and horse sites, stating she is a fine example of a chimera or mosiac. She is not. Chipilly is none of these things. Claiming that she is, to our mind, actually undervalues her struggle and replaces truth with ego. She's not some rare, magical beast - at least, not in that way. There is far more going on beneath the surface than people see. She's Chipilly and she's all the more awesome because the answer to her looks is both simple and complex.
It's due to trauma. Birth trauma, to be exact. As Les Sellnow notes; "Old-time horsemen called it "roaring." The common scientific term is laryngeal hemiplegia. However you describe it, the condition involving larynx dysfunction can severely compromise a horse’s ability to breathe, especially during exercise."
Chipilly's mum Earaheedy Betsy was a wild born rescued mare, and until two years ago when we lost dear Betsy to complications resulting from an ovarian granuloma tumour, she lived with Chipilly here at Wadi Farm. Betsy was beautiful, and very wise, and much of Chipilly comes from her. Chipilly's sire, Redgum Malachi, was a big, powerful stallion with a loyal and gentle heart, and the rest of Chipilly is his gift.
We bred our rescued horses for a few years only. We stopped for a number of reasons, mainly to do with feeling that there were more animals out there that needed rescuing and really breeding too many in this day and age doesn't help anything. (FYI I don't have children either. We contribute, I think, in other ways.) But opinions aside, we always let our wild born rescued mares foal in the open paddocks. Basically, if you've rescued an adult wild mare, she's already a good foaler, or she wouldn't be alive. It's the first time mums you have to keep an eye on...
Betsy went down to have her foal one clear morning in early December. By sheer good fortune, I spotted her from our bedroom window and was right there with a camera within minutes. In hindsight, Betsy must have been a maiden mare or close to it when she came to us. Because she did have foaling problems. (And yes we stopped breeding from her after trialling a couple of different scenarios, such as possible mineral deficiency, although it took Betsy years to adjust. She grieved. She even fostered an orphan foal at one point for us. She wanted to be a mother.)
But on that fateful morning, Chipilly got stuck in the birth canal, on her near side. We think in this instance (in hindsight) it was due to mineral deficiency in the rescued Betsy, which we didn't identify until later. This caused tendon problems in the foal - Chipilly's front leg tendons were too tight. They flexed over her first few days of life. She was only 'trapped' for a handful of minutes before I realised something was wrong, but this also meant that the bag did not break. As experienced breeders know, those last twenty minutes (actual foaling, after positioning, etc.) are crucial. The actual birth should be quick, and smooth. This was not.
By the time I pulled Chipilly out, breaking the bag in the process, she had stopped breathing. Kevin (my husband) had arrived by that stage and while she was lying half out of Betsy, we got her breathing again. It fortunately did not take much and Betsy, exhausted, knew we were trying to help.
We then had to cut the umbilical cord and after getting Chipilly up and drinking, we called the vet.
Cutting a long foaling story short, Chipilly seemed fine (as you can see from her foal photos), aside from a slightly closed nearside eye and her straight front legs. She also later developed a minor umbilical cord infection but that was dealt with and probably a result of us rushing on the day.
On her second day of life we called our friend, Equine Touch bodywork Practitioner Deb Ryan. Deb drove over and gave us much needed mineral advice, as well as much needed bodywork to both Betsy and her new filly, who we had by then named. This helped both horses enormously. Betsy had been sore and so had Chipilly. Too many people don't think about giving bodywork to foals but really it's a great idea. Like some babies (who experience neck and collar bone problems), foals can be born with birth trauma such as a cricked neck or stuck ribs/shoulders, etc. Loosening them up and identifying any early soreness can stop both growth and behavioural problems later on.
As for Chipilly, Deb's work helped enormously. We continued with regular bodywork as she grew and - even more importantly - the bodywork around her face helped circulation and got her eyelid opening and working properly again, although due to the later diagnosed nerve damage, this took two years. In hindsight, if we had not ensured Chipilly got this bodywork and circulation boosting, she would not have fared as well.
(Click on individual photos to enlarge.)
Chipilly was never an ugly foal. She never even had a 'fugly' teenage stage. She always looked spectacular. Best Waler we ever bred, we congratulated ourselves. Due to her early handling and her innate very large personality, she was friendly, enquiring, forward, brave and a fast learner. She was well socialised within the herd. Kevin loved her. His next riding horse for sure. His next parade horse in fact.
Then, sometime between her second and third year of life, we noticed some changes. We could hear Chipilly breathing, from a distance. She was growing very big, very fast. We thought maybe growing pains? But no. During her third year, she started to grey out. We had been expecting this - you can tell by the deep/darkness of the bay colour when they are born, if bays are going to grey out. Both Chipilly's parents were greys. However, what we were not expecting was the way she began to grey out. One exact half of her entire head - on the nearside - greyed out first, nearly a year before the rest of her started to grey out.
What had happened - as we later found out via vet inspections and two endoscopes (throat scans), when she was four and five years old - was that yes Chipilly was a 'roarer'. In vet terms it's called 'laryngeal paralysis' or 'laryngeal hemiplegia'. In layman's terms that means that the 'getting stuck' while being born had resulted in her entire nearside face and throat being crushed to the point where the hair and throat nerves were killed off.
There are other conditions which apparently cause this, but in Chipilly's case we believe it was birth trauma. Some roarers have only partially paralysed larynx so that it isn't until the demand for oxygen increases with the physical exertion (ie. cantering and galloping), that negative pressure is exerted on the damaged part of the trachea and it's sucked inward, limiting the horse's intake of oxygen. With Chipilly however, it's completely paralysed on her nearside. She's classed as a Grade Four Roarer. Even at a standstill, the scope shows she is only able to suck in about 50% of the oxygen she needs. At speed or under stress it's even less. One side of her trachea is simply completely collapsed and doesn't function. Her voice box is now basically also partially paralysed, so that as an adult, she actually doesn't sound as bad as when she was younger. Actually she's worse, although we've been told that what it is now is what it's always going to be.
We can live with that because Chipilly can.
She has a normal heart and lungs but you can still hear her breathing. We learned early on that you should not be able to hear a horse breathing when it's just walking, it means there's something not quite right there. Of course what this birth trauma also did, was paralyse her hair nerves and they died. So she greyed out on that side of her face and neck early.
We thought about selling her for a time, and then thought about selling her as just a broodmare when she was diagnosed at around four years old. We got several offers. But we decided against it. A couple of potential buyers were lovely and sincerely cared, but others could not 'see' her problem - they all assumed she was this awesome beast who could do anything and that she wasn't as bad as we said she was because her voice box was becoming paralysed and you couldn't hear her 'freight train' breathing as much, or because there is an operation to fix roaring.
We chose not to operate - largely because Chipilly has such a degree of damage, but also because the operation results in a permanently pinned open trachea/larynx, which means that any dust, feed, crap, etc. can go straight down into the horse's lungs. Colds and infections are not uncommon, even though many racehorses with the problem have such operations. For economics? We weren't going to do that.
The memory of the day we went and told Chipilly she would be staying with us and was a 'keeper' still brings tears to my eyes. I swear that mare grew several inches. You could just see her chest expand and her head go up and she went yes!! She was very pleased, and so were we. She went and boasted to the entire herd, who got really annoyed and put her swiftly back in her place.
Chipilly is still a powerful horse. She loves to express herself through movement. She loves galloping with the herd and she loves to jump. She's not so confident on her own - I think these days she feels a bit vulnerable with her particular challenges and she likes the herd for safety - but she is now trained to do all sorts of things online and at liberty. We did put her under saddle, for her own education, but we don't ride her. Collection isn't good for a horse like Chipilly, it restricts her breathing. Chipilly lives a wonderful life here as a non-ridden horse, in with our herd of 14. She gives us much joy and we hope we give back to her by allowing her to express her awesome personality as much as possible.
Chipilly and Darrah are my heart horses. They are my teachers and my friends and I will be eternally grateful for their presence in our lives.
These days, Chipilly is a trained EFL horse (see heading under Equine Facilitated Learning), and as you can see from the myriad of photos below, helps out with clients and workshops on a regular basis. She teaches vet students about large animal handling and equine behaviour, as well as about roarers. And as mentioned earlier, she reminds us not to judge any being by it's outer shell, but rather to 'hold space' and allow that human or animal to grow and express it's gifts in it's own time and it's own way, and show everyone else how it should be done.
Live proud with your individual differences and challenges. Love hard. We are what we are, and that's okay. We are all beautiful and unique in our own way...and we all have something to offer.
(All photos (c) KAW)
