possible. I rode, took lessons, practiced what I’d learned, and took yet more lessons. Poor, young Valiant took a back seat, getting much less of my time and attention.

The Challenges Begin

When Valiant was two years old, I invited a well-respected German dres- sage trainer to our California farm to evaluate his potential and suitability as a dressage horse. There we were, standing in the pasture at the bottom of “the mountain,” look- ing up at five horses standing at the top. They all perked their ears when I whistled and began their descent. Four of the five came down the usual way, following a long traversing path. Valiant, however, shot straight down the mountain, using the bushes and boulders as if they were the flagged gates in a giant slalom ski course. Skidding to an abrupt stop in a huge cloud of dust right in front of me, the trainer dove for cover. To my dismay, his evaluation was that Valiant was unsuitable for dressage, pronouncing him both crazy and too small.

Being impressionable as I was, I reluctantly put him up for sale and soon found a potential buyer. Valiant did not pass the vet check, however. The vet was concerned that he snapped his hind legs and dragged his toes slightly. While she couldn’t identify the so-called problem, she felt this was potentially a degenerative disease.

So at that point I had a trainer telling me Valiant was unsuit- able and a veterinarian telling me he might have a neurologi- cal disease. That did it for me – I decided I was destined to be “challenged” as I didn’t believe either of these experts, so I decided to simply do it my way and prove them wrong. What surfaced was the obstinate, hard-headed part of me.

Tragedy Strikes

Soon after Valiant’s dressage evaluation and pre-purchase diagnosis, we moved from California to our new facility, Centaur Farm, in Florida. One day while walking out to the arena, Valiant stepped on a horseshoe nail. The veterinarian came out and thoroughly cleaned and medicated the sole of Valiant’s foot to prevent infection. Penicillin was prescribed to administer for five days. I always personally administered

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shots to my horses, and I told the groom to leave that procedure to me. The next morning she had given Valiant the shots disobeying my order. Needless to say I was quite angry but there was not much I could do to revisit that incident. The following day, abscesses developed where the injections were given on both sides of his neck. I also noticed his eyes were cloudy at the center near the pupil. To this day, it is a mystery as to what caused this infection. It could have been a reaction to the penicillin, a problem with the drug itself, the manner with which the shots were given, a con- taminated needle, or the bacteria from the horseshoe nail. We’ll never know.

This was the start of a raging infection inside of Valiant that nearly killed him. Valiant had the worst form of uveitis, also known as moon blindness. The bacteria traveled to his eyes from the abscesses on his neck and Valiant’s eyes clouded over within days. He was extremely ill with very high temper- atures for many weeks, and he had extremely painful, hot, weeping eyes for many, many months.

The promising newborn foal “Valiant”

Valiant’s care was around the clock. We had to religiously administer his many medications precisely on time, record his temperature, and give comments about his condition. For the first three months, IV medications, eye drops, and ointments were administered hourly. This schedule contin- ued for more than nine months, then we gradually increased the time between meds to every two, four, six, eight, and twelve hours, finally moving to once a day. I provided most of his treatments myself because there was no room for error, and I wanted to make absolutely sure it was done correctly. It was critical Valiant received these meds exactly on time to help control the pain in his eyes. My sleep patterns became quite bizarre, but eventually we got through it.

Life Without Sight

Now we were faced with the next challenge – how could Valiant live his life without sight? I still remember that day at the University of Florida after his eye examination. The spe- cialists told me Valiant would never see again and my options were to turn him out in a pasture without trees for the rest of his life or to put him down. I felt lost and helpless.

As I thought this through, I felt for the first time in my life that the universe was pre- senting me with a very serious decision and a very serious opportunity. I

Valiant’s sire Valant, a Dutch Warmblood owned by Jeanette Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64  |  Page 65  |  Page 66  |  Page 67  |  Page 68  |  Page 69  |  Page 70  |  Page 71  |  Page 72  |  Page 73