When my wife Meredith and I decided to name our new mare Brava, we had no idea how exactly it would define her deep heart and spirit.

Brava, which means brave or wild in Spanish, was born after we bred Shark, my roan, to a warmblood stud five years ago. The cross produced one of the most beautiful, athletic horses that you can imagine, and a black. She stands over sixteen hands high. 

Yesterday I took her up into the Bighorns where our herd of cattle is grazing for the summer. It was her first big, all-day ride and her first time into the mountains. We were on a mission to look for strays and at the condition of the pastures. It was a ride that presented an entirely new world to Brava: steep, rocky grades, tons of different kinds of stream crossings, bogs, sudden grouse flying out like explosions from right under her, boulder fields, scary (to her) piles of dirt, logs and rocks. But she took everything in stride. One of the things that I love is her curiosity and forwardness – always looking around, her ears pointing forward wanting to trot out and move faster. All day long she was looking around here and there, trotting in the open even parts of the trails, climbing and descending steep sections, arching her neck at scary stuff and then going over to smell it. The entire time, though surrounded by new smells and sights, she was relatively calm and eager to go.

But this was not always Brava’s spirit. Last summer, she was infected with the West Nile virus and went down fast. At first, we noticed a slight falter in her steps, as if she was stiff, her legs not bending naturally. Steadily she became worse, her body seemingly turning into cardboard. I had to leave on an overnight trip early on, and while gone, she went even further downhill. When I returned and went out to see her in the pen, she was laying flat on her side, unable to right herself, periodically slamming her head against the ground trying to roll over onto her feet. She had lost weight, even though she was eating, and her coat had begun to wear off in patches from laying on the ground, feebly struggling. The eye that I could see stared upward to the sky as she lay there. 

But what I remember most clearly today, was what I saw when I got next to her. She was in such bad shape that I was thinking about what I would have to do, which gun to use, where and how I would take her afterwards. With these things in my mind, I sat down beside her and scooted my leg under her head, lifting it up into my lap, and holding it. The look that I expected to see in her eyes was not there, taking me completely off guard. Instead of hollow and lifeless, her eyes were clear and full with life as if she was out in the pasture grazing on a normal day. There was not even a ghost of the hurt that I knew she was feeling. She was asking with everything that she had left for help. My tears came flooding out. I sat caressing her head, knowing we had to somehow get her up off the ground and on her feet. 

I retrieved the backhoe and some heavy, wide straps to lift her. It was hard getting them under her and in the right position, but once we did and lifted her up with the front bucket, her body was still sideways, her legs sticking out horizontally, the same as when she was on the ground. We scratched our heads… How do we get that much weight moved around so she’s upright? A pack saddle came to mind. We could lift her up by the bars on top. Again, we struggled to cinch it onto her and get it tight, but when we lifted her, it worked! There she was, for the first time in a while, upright, although just hanging from the pack saddle, unable to stand alone. She just looked around with her legs dangling but moving, trying to walk. We decided the best thing was to lift her periodically during the day to get the circulation back in her legs. Also, from this position she could eat and drink more easily, which she did wholeheartedly.

West Nile virus is the leading type of mosquito-borne virus in the continental United States. It commonly affects humans as well. Symptoms include fever, body aches, vomiting, rash or diarrhea and can be fatal in some cases. There are no specific medicines available to treat it. As a virus, it won’t respond to antibiotics the way a bacterial infection would. Rest, fluids, and pain medications can be used to relieve some of the symptoms. Our only choice in bringing Brava back was intensive nursing that could go on for months with no guarantee of success.

Every day, we would lift her up for a while, then lay her down. It was heartbreaking in the mornings when we’d go out fingers crossed, hoping to see her sitting up, but she would always be flat on her side, thrashing. Again and again and again. Meredith was giving her a variety of homeopathic remedies, depending on what she observed and thought she needed. Her strategy was to enhance Brava’s innate ability to heal by finding the right combination of remedies, which required closely observing Brava. We also changed her feed to include different varieties. She seemed to be gaining a tiny bit more control over her legs. But even so, some things became worse. Large, deep sores developed over the sides of her entire body and head, especially on her hip bones, from never giving up on trying to get up. Her left eye turned white from hitting her head on the ground. The flies began gathering in clouds on her body and eyes and nose, so we put a fly mask on and covered her with a net. 

A month passed. Then another. She seemed to be getting her feet under her, until one day, when we released the tension on the saddle, like we routinely did, she stood without support. Wobbling back and forth, she had done it!! It seemed like a miracle; it was the breakthrough that we’d been waiting for. Very gradually, she gained strength, with a few steps leading to more steps, until we untethered her from the tractor and she began to walk on her own. Things continued to slowly improve until one morning, she was sitting up waiting for us when we walked out to the corral. The next benchmark came when we found her standing on her own, like we’d left her. She began gaining weight, and her sores began to heal. She was finally on her way! 

Except for white marks where some of her sores were, and scars on her hip bones and cheeks that have not grown back over, she is healthy again, but very different than before. But that look in her eyes has not changed from that first moment I held her. She has gained her life back not from the work that we did, but from her own undaunted heart, which refused to give up. Today, she not only walks but runs in these fields free from the virus.