Flash Comes Home for the Holidays

By C.K. WOLFSON

It was a blustery mid-October evening when Pond View Farm staff
member Mauricio Brandao found the little school pony standing in the
corner of the field. Flash, the sweet-natured, 18-year-old, chestnut
gelding - everybody's favorite - was refusing to come
in for his nightly feeding, refusing to move at all or bear any weight
on his right leg.

vspace="8" border="1" align="right">

Tracey Amaral, the farm's manager and teacher, recalls,
"You could see that the leg was in the wrong position, that it was
misshapen . . . that he was in pain."

Because the Island's large animal veterinarians on call that
night were not able to determine the full extent of the injury, the
crisis wasn't identified until a day later when Dr. Mark Reilly
from Mid-Cape Animal Hospital arrived, evaluated the wounded pony and
contacted Tufts University School of Veterinary Medicine Hospital for
Large Animals.

With Dr. Reilly's assistance and despite a northeaster that
was about to shut down the ferry, Flash was taken to the Tufts
veterinary hospital and turned over to the expertise of resident Dr.
Heidi Hutchinson and surgeon Dr. Jose Garcia-Lopez.

The degree of damage was unusual. There was a U-shaped,
full-thickness skin laceration that supported the doctors'
diagnosis that Flash was injured by a kick from another horse. With
detailed radiographs, Drs. Garcia-Lopez and Hutchinson discovered broken
splint bones, a dislocation, torn ligaments on the inside of the hock
joint and a break in the leg's primary support bone (the cannon
bone).

Life or death. The decision was to either euthanize Flash or begin
an extravagant surgical procedure (surgical and hospital costs of
$10,000), and if all went well, an extensive, prolonged rehabilitation
program - the price tag for life.

The pony, whose full name is Flash Me a Smile, because of his
unique, smiling expression, is owned by an Islander, who leases him to
Pond View Farm where for the past 10 years he has taught hundreds of
young children to ride and jump. His owner decided to defer, leaving the
choice and responsibility to Ms. Amaral.

"We were at a crucial point," Ms. Amaral says,
explaining that although the docile pony might not be able to function
as a teaching school pony again, he might be able to return and remain
part of farm.

Dr. Garcia-Lopez said it is common for horses with Flash's
severe injuries be put down. "We could definitely try to do
something, but it would be a long haul," he explained. "We
didn't know what we would end up with. . . . If we weren't
able to fix it, we would have had to put him down. No middle way."

After conferring with Dr. Reilly and with the support and
participation of Sarah Doyle of Blue Heron Farm, who involved the
nationally recognized Dr. Tim Ober, a veterinarian who works with the
U.S. Olympic equestrian team, it was decided to try to save Flash.

"This little pony from West Tisbury who has done nothing but
teach little kids, who doesn't have any fancy horse show
experience, isn't one of those $100,000 ponies, but just a special
little guy. And we have one of the top vets in the country and probably
one of the top surgeons [Dr. Garcia-Lopez] on the phone with each other
at 11 o'clock at night, discussing Flash," Ms. Amaral says,
her voice conveying her wonder.

"How would we live with ourselves if Flash died?" she
asks.

"There seemed to be a million people, each in their own
different ways - people from the Steamship, the kids, the doctors
- all these people in their own way deciding how to help Flash and
then just making it all happen."

With emotion, Ms. Amaral says, "He means the world to all of
us. He's the greatest pony in the universe." And describing
his wonderful disposition, she explains, "Flash is one of the
first ponies little kids meet. . . . It's amazing to watch.
It's kind of like he walks kids through [their lessons],
it's like he's saying, ‘Over here, you need to do
this.' "

She says, "I call him my babysitter because there's
nothing a child could do to upset him. If I'm busy and I
can't walk with them, I send them to do something with Flash
because I know that they're going to be safe."

Dr. Garcia-Lopez agrees, "School ponies are funny, because
when they're good, they're priceless - priceless not
only to teachers and kids, but to parents. There's a feeling of
safety when you're teaching five and six-year-olds to ride. Good
school ponies are hard to find."

Flash is small (12 hands) even by pony standards. (Ponies are under
14.2 hands high.) Calm and compliant with a rich chestnut coat, four
white socks, a wide blaze between his two, enormous brown eyes, he is
the pastel pony in a bedtime story. And children like Paris Bermudes, 7,
Sofia and Olivia Hart, both 9, and Olivia Beccehio, 8, a few of his most
loyal fans, trust him completely.

By the morning after the doctors and Ms. Amaral made their decision
to operate, $2,300 had been raised. It had begun: phone calls,
fundraisers, contributions came from around the country. Letters
scrawled in pencil, decorated in crayon and steeped in children's
sentiments arrived with piggy-bank donations. From the very young to the
elderly, from those who knew Flash and those who had only heard about
him, from former students and their parents, the contributions flowed
in.

The surgery on Oct. 17 took all day. Dr. Garcia-Lopez explained that
it was an unusual multiple fracture involving three proximal bones, the
lateral cannon and a lower hock joint luxation (dislocation).
"Because of the fracture on the back of the canon bone, 13
stainless steel screws, the same as are used for human implants, were
permanently implanted," he said. "There is a 50-50 chance
that complications can occur with implants; a 60 to 70 per cent chance
he will survive to go to pasture, but to be able to do anything
athletic, the percentage drops."

According to Dr. Garcia-Lopez, Flash was a great patient and
"very willing to let us help him. It's still too early to
know the extent of how sound he will be. It takes four or five months
and we still have quite a bit of a way to go."

Ten days after surgery it became clear Flash was in pain; the screw
in the fourth metatarsal had loosened from tension in the ligaments.
"The big challenge in equine surgery is that the implants are not
made to support certain weight," Dr. Garcia-Lopez said.

On Nov. 27, a second surgery was required to remove the screw and
replace it with a seven-hole plate. In the process a drill bit broke off
in the third metatarsal bone. And will remain there.

But on Dec. 3, after 24-hour hospital care for six weeks, a cast
change every two weeks, daily phone calls and frequent visits from Ms.
Amaral and the girls, pounds of carrots, bags of peppermint candy, and
$10,000 later - Flash came home, just in time to celebrate
Christmas. Contributions have come from all over the country, enough to
cover his hospital expenses, his follow-up radiographs and medication.

His discarded leg casts, decorated with felt-tip signatures, lean
against the corner in the stable office. A posse of laughing girls has
gathered there to visit their friend and take him on his nightly therapy
walk inside the stable.

The girls will hover around as they lead him up and back the length
of the barn. He walks carefully, his right leg still slightly crooked,
his hoof capped in an acrylic toe extender and swiveling slightly as it
meets the ground. His opposing foot wears a Styrofoam cushion to support
the frog (bottom of the hoof).

His leg is wrapped, his ankle remains contracted although Ms.
Amaral, Mr. Brandao of the stable staff and Sally Hart see that he
receives his physical therapy four times times a day.

Those he has taught to ride have also learned other lessons from

him. Paris Bermudes said she learned something about difficulties:
"That you have to live through them." Sofia Hart said she
learned that doctors can help you and someone else chimed in,
"Yeah, but you have to find the best doctors." Another
youngster said, "And you have to visit friends in the
hospital."

With a nod from Ms. Amaral, the young girls run to the stall with
the handmade Christmas stocking tacked to the door. And there is Flash.
Waiting for his peppermint treats. Smiling.