Boomer's Story

“Something is wrong with my horse, and I don’t know what.”
“Other equine professionals say my horse is fine, but my gut says something is off.”

I met my heart horse, Boomer, back in 2020, when he was four years old. Boomer was an off-track Standardbred who had the silliest, sweetest, most loving personality. Boomer was a well-built horse with a shiny coat and a humble yet eye-catching presence about him. He was retired from the track at age three after a short and unremarkable racing career. “He just didn’t have the heart for racing,” I was told, but that was no problem for me, as I had fallen in love with his inquisitive, gentle, and social nature first and foremost. I saw great potential in him as a steady trail mount, a potential endurance horse, or even becoming an excellent therapy horse, as he loved kids and anyone or anything smaller than him. The future seemed bright, and I was certain that Boomer and I would become an unstoppable team in whatever path we chose to pursue.
Not long after Boomer and I began our journey together, I started noticing things that didn’t sit right with me. Under saddle, it took copious amounts of encouragement for Boomer to walk out. His trot was something out of a nightmare; he would go full speed ahead and lose all sense of balance on his right side to the point where I became concerned he might actually fall over on himself. His ears were always flat back against his head and he would frequently swish his tail in discomfort at the most basic and gentle ask. Many trainers and vets I spoke to told me he would grow out of this behavior, that some of these issues were simply because he was a Standardbred, and that with proper training he would eventually become the riding horse I had hoped he would be. Not knowing who or what else to turn to to validate my notion that something was really wrong with my horse, I took these words to heart and tried my best to ignore what my intuition was trying to tell me.
Everything was one step forward, three steps back with Boomer. I enrolled him in a dressage training program, thinking it would help both of us overcome these hurdles I was assured were simple quirks that could be worked out of. He tried so hard to perform the most basic movements, yet every ride would end with both of us confused and frustrated as to why we weren’t progressing. Every lameness exam came up with no findings. I made sure Boomer’s lifestyle was ideal (freedom, friends, and forage!). I took great measures to ensure that his diet was as correct as it could be. I bought a custom saddle for him that fit perfectly and bought all sorts of “comfort bits”, anatomical and bitless bridles, and so on, with the hopes that something would make Boomer feel more comfortable. We did plenty of groundwork and began implementing positive reinforcement techniques. Yet nothing seemed to be helping my horse.
Around this time, I began studying and practicing equine bodywork to help my mare, Juno, feel more comfortable in her final months, as she had a painful condition that affects the body’s ability to repair soft tissues. An essential part of my training as a bodyworker was learning how to identify areas of musculoskeletal asymmetry, discomfort, and pain. I spent plenty of time palpating Juno and Boomer, along with the other horses I practiced on. I soon realized that Boomer’s body was wildly asymmetrical. What stood out to me most were the asymmetries in his neck. The right side of his neck, shoulder, pectoral, and right front leg were all underdeveloped and undermuscled. I noticed that he would track up ever so slightly short on his right front, and that the heel bulbs and frog of that hoof were much smaller and more contracted than his left front hoof. Upon performing neck stretches to check his range of motion, I realized that he could not bend the base of his neck. Boomer would twist his upper neck in a way to achieve full range of motion, giving the illusion of a healthy and mobile neck, but would avoid engaging his lower neck when asked. However, Boomer gave no blatant indicators of pain upon manual palpation. He did not pin his ears, flinch away from my hands, or give any other reactive cues that he was uncomfortable. His muscles were tight, yes, but I did not feel any scar tissue or stress points. In spite of this, I felt confident I had found evidence that something was going on in my horse’s body that was impacting his performance and well-being.

I completed my bodywork certifications, and Boomer became my “test subject” for every new technique I learned. We made some breakthroughs; I learned which methods he enjoyed and those he did not care for. Others commented on how much his muscle tone and posture improved, and we did see some minor improvements under saddle. In spite of this, I was still concerned about the right side of Boomer’s neck and shoulder, as those muscles continued to stay in an atrophied state. I decided to stop riding Boomer all together until we could solve this puzzle. I believed that there must have been something structurally wrong in Boomer’s lower neck, such as arthritis, a nerve issue, or a deep injury, that was impeding his muscular integrity. After many months of research and deliberation, I found a well-respected specialty vet who was willing to take some radiographs of Boomer’s neck to, at the very least, rule out something like arthritis. The vet did a full lameness exam and agreed that Boomer’s inability to balance himself on his right side was odd. He did note the muscular asymmetries I was concerned about and also felt that it was unusual. However, he cautioned me that he did not think he would find anything on the radiographs, but agreed to go through with them to give me peace of mind.

It’s never good when the vet goes completely silent.

My intuition was right. Boomer’s sixth and seventh cervical vertebrae were severely malformed. C6 was missing an entire section of bone on the right side. Additionally, Boomer’s neck was riddled with arthritis. The vet said he had seen only a handful of cases this intense, and diagnosed Boomer with Equine Complex Cervical Vertebral Malformation (ECVM).He was shocked that Boomer was not expressing blatant pain and discomfort; such was the severity of his case. He suggested that I fully retire Boomer to be a pasture puff, which he already was at that point, and instructed me to continue with my bodywork. He requested that we follow up in a few months’ time.
One week later, things took a sudden and extreme nosedive. Boomer had a farrier appointment that day. When I went to grab my horse from the pasture, I barely recognized him. He had a terrified look on his face and was flinching away from my touch. My farrier took one look at him and said, “That is not the same horse I worked on a month ago.” Boomer had always been great for the farrier with his kind and docile nature. But this was an entirely different creature, panicking in the crossties with flared nostrils, the whites of his eyes clearly visible. I tried desperately to help him calm down to no avail. It was then that I noticed how defensive he was over his right shoulder being touched. His muscles would convulse away from even the most featherlight touch. I immediately called the on-call local vet. I explained the findings from the radiographs taken the week prior. The vet said it was likely that, with the combination of the malformed vertebrae and severe arthritis, a large nerve was being compressed and was not innervating the muscles like it was supposed to. He prescribed a heavy dose of nerve-specific painkiller to Boomer, which helped tremendously, but said that this was something he could not stay on long term due to the potential complex side effects. I knew then that this was it. For his quality of life, Boomer needed to be put to sleep. We set the date for two weeks later, and I did what I could to make my boy comfortable in his final weeks of life.
Though the painkiller helped quite a bit, Boomer was still not his usual self. Though his goofy and gentle personality came back a little bit, he would have days where he didn’t want to be touched or brushed. I noticed him spending more time alone in the pasture, which was not typical for him- he always liked a big group. I would always let him pick what we wanted to do; most of those days were spent grazing on the lush spring grass. On the days where he could tolerate some light touch, I would practice Shiatsu techniques, as Shiatsu is excellent for targeting specific regional groups of not only muscles, but organs and nerves too.

I had never seen my horse release so much tension from his body in my life than in those few days before his death.

Boomer had always enjoyed bodywork, but I had a difficult time getting a real big release out of him. I would often joke with my mentors, “of course my horse is the one horse I cannot get to let go of anything!” He would give the occasional lick and chew or doze off for a few minutes, but up until then I had struggled to encourage a big, full-body release.

This was something else.

Yawning, licking, chewing, stretching, even urinating at one point. In spite of everything Boomer was going through, I was able to help his body release some of the tension and stress it had been holding on to for so long. Though I knew full well that bodywork could not reverse the structural damage in Boomer’s body given the catastrophic congenital stress it was under, I felt peace knowing that I was able to do something to help alleviate his discomfort.

I wanted to share Boomer’s story as a way to say “I get you, I feel for you as an owner, I have been in your shoes.” I have met many people in similar boats to the one I was in with Boomer, and if any part of Boomer’s story has resonated with you, I encourage you to reach out and book a session with me, and together we can walk down a path of healing for your horse and for you.