Farewell Sweet Vulcan

Jose and Vulcan

Our dear, sweet horse, Vulcan, died Saturday morning, August 4, 2012.   We all mourned and grieved deeply for our beloved ‘potro’, Vulcan; he was our youngest horse and yet he was also the sweetest and gentlest.  Sweet-tempered Vulcan carried many of my friends over the years, and we could trust him to carry even a small child.  Our other three horses are not nearly so nice!  Vulcan will be much missed.  We have buried so many animals over the years!  Forest living is textured with many wonders but also with so many perils.

Vulcan and Morgane

 But I never thought we would lose Vulcan.  We bought him several years ago from our then horse trainer, who’d relocated his colt from a farm up near Arenal Volcano (thus the name, Vulcan) and was looking to place him in a good home here in El Rodeo.  Thus, we gave Vulcan a wonderful life with our other three horses here on the farm – he grazed out in the pastures with the others during the day and returned to the stables at night.  And sometimes we would go out riding.  Our other horses were born and bred locally, and so were already adapted to this environment.  But Vulcan came from a much higher altitude and, therefore, had to adapt to his new living conditions.  And oh, how he suffered. Poor Vulcan would get sores and inflammations, especially during the horrible month of July, whereas the other horses did perfectly fine.  Lucero and Solo won’t let the flies bite them, and have adapted even during the worst of ‘biting-fly season’.  Matchi gets some bites but heals quickly.  But Vulcan always suffered the most.

I tried my very best over the years to help him – using mixtures of repellants and assorted remedies to give him relief – and this year has been the absolute worst!  Of course, Jose tells me that I say that every year.

July is always a difficult month.  Don’t ride past El Tigre and down the mountain to the river Jaris until after August 15^th, when the fly season recedes.  Actually, it’s a dangerous ride in the best of cases – we recommend that you ride up the mountain not down it, when you risk a greater chance of falling or having an accident.  Do your route in reverse:  go first down the Piedras Negras road and then back up the steep mountain past our place.  But not in July! 

Jose and I decided to go for an adventurous ride down the mountain a few weeks ago, riding Solo and Matchi, to test a new fly repellant that I’d bought from Donatella.  As always, the ride down was pure adrenaline with a few scary moments, but our horses know the trail well.  The flies were everywhere but did not land on the horses – the repellant worked beautifully!

That’s the good news.

This past Thursday, I went down to the pasture with an herbal repellant, just in case the horses needed a bit of extra help, and all of them were fine except Vulcan.  His head was drooping and he was bleeding profusely all over from various insect bites.  Usually after a bite, the horse shows a spot or two of blood and then it coagulates.  But, this time, the blood was just flowing all over poor Vulcan.  And he is not a hemophiliac!  It was as if he had ingested something that caused acute bleeding.  However, as I looked more closely, I could see that he was bleeding profusely from numerous tiny points – definitely fly bites, not snake bites or bat bites – and that the blood was not clotting like normal, as if he had eaten some type of anti-coagulant (a Coumadin-type compound for example).  Shocked and distressed, I rushed and grabbed some nearby Tuete leaves – known to have coagulant properties – and crushed them into as many of the bleeding spots as I could, and then I called for help.  Jose arrived soon afterwards and we took Vulcan back to the stables.

The vet came over three times during the next few days to help us try to stabilize and treat Vulcan, but nobody had any idea what was causing the problem.  The vet thought it was snake bite because Vulcan had an inflamed back ankle so we treated presumptively using Snake Antivenom Sera (we assumed Terciopelo).   We also treated him supportively with Vitamin K, dexamethasone, antibiotics, and fortified IV fluids for rehydration, while trying to staunch the blood flow. We spent most of the day with him, providing what relief and comfort we could, while getting covered in blood.  However, by the end of it, Vulcan looked more stabilized.  The bleeding appeared to be slowing and some of the bites had coagulated.  We were very hopeful when we went to bed Thursday night that the worst was over. 

Then, Thursday night, Vulcan fell down in his stall and gashed his forehead open.  I discovered him at dawn the next morning bleeding profusely from the gash, and he was very weak.  Everybody shot into action to help in some way.  I spent the entire time with him, applying cool compresses to his forehead, trying to stem the flow of blood and reduce the swelling that had already started.  I used soft absorbent cotton cloths that had been soaking in ice-water (Gerry had no ice for his gin & tonics for a few days!).  As soon as I applied a clean, cold cloth to his head, Vulcan would groan with relief, but the cloth would quickly soak in blood and warm up and I had to swap it out for another.  And on it went for hours, until the vet returned and stitched up the gash.  However, the wound kept bleeding right through the stitches, due to the original problem. 

All Friday we continued trying to help Vulcan and not just with injectable meds.  Armando brought Tuete (Vernonia patens) leaves crushed in a bucket, which we applied to the bleeding points.  Hugo helped keep a steady supply of clean, soft cloths available, and Jose was always nearby, helping in a thousand ways.  He also continued caring for the other animals and doing normal finca tasks, but returned often to see Vulcan.  By Friday night, the bleeding from the bite points had stopped and begun clotting and we went to bed hopeful.  If not for the gash on his forehead, he would have been on the mend.  But it was such bad luck for poor Vulcan to fall and gash his forehead just when he least needed another bleeding episode. 

Saturday morning, I arrived at the stables at dawn and found Vulcan still bleeding from the forehead and now swelling around his eyes; he was also very weak.  He could drink water but no longer could swallow his food though is airways were open.  So, I spent the morning hours with him, applying cold compresses to his head, soothing his wounds, and giving him what comfort I could.  He seemed exhausted and very droopy, and he had lost a lot of blood.  Still, he had survived the night, and I really felt that the worst was past us!  I returned to the house for a quick coffee, thinking – and telling everyone – that Vulcan will survive this!
I told Danny as I left the stable, “Vulcan will be okay!  We’re in the clear”!  I told Jose, “The worst is behind us; he just needs rest and time”.  I told our neighbors, Ursula and Fredy, who had seen me with bloody clothes and hands over recent days, sometimes shuddering with distress and worry, “Vulcan survived last night and we are very hopeful now”.  And the last thing I said about Vulcan was to Gerry, “Vulcan will survive this”.     

So, after my quick cup of coffee, I was leaving the house with kitchen scraps for the chickens, heading back to Vulcan, when Yaneth suddenly stops me, gives me a huge hug and whispers, “You must be brave”.
Well I wasn’t brave.  I cried like a baby.  I think we all did.   

The guys later told me that, soon after I had left, they saw Vulcan suddenly fall over onto his side, and that he expired a few seconds later – my cold compress still on his head.  His suffering had ended, at least.  We surmise, after reviewing everything again, that Vulcan likely experienced extensive internal bleeding and died of heart failure, probably secondary to snake bite.
 
He lived a good life and was much loved.  And we bury our special animals.  He rests now in El Tigre Animal Cemetery with our dogs, cats, a calf, a turkey and a few cherished hens and roosters.  How does a hen end up in the pet cemetery rather than the soup pot?  If we give an animal a name, then he or she becomes special.  Normally, we all grab a shovel and pitch in to help dig the grave but, on this sad day, we enlisted the help of a back-hoe to assist us with this unhappy but necessary task.  Everybody was there:  the children soon playing and teasing each other over captured insects; the adults just standing there and watching the back-hoe dig Vulcan’s grave, mostly silent and lost in our own thoughts.  We shall plant a tree soon at the burial spot, as we have done for all of the others.

 We grieve the loss of all of our animals – though for me, Vulcan’s came as a total shock.  That’s why I am writing about this today.  It’s the best way I can remember and honor Vulcan.  All horse lovers understand the special relationship they have with their horses.  Somebody once said that dogs look up to us, cats look down on us, and horses look at us eye-to-eye.  The relationship between human and horse is one of sensitivity and compassion.  If you feel nervous, your horse feels it in you, thus causing you to relax and to transmit that back to your horse. The relationship is mutually beneficial in multiple ways.  The bond grows deep over time.