Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Swamp Fever: No Vaccine, No Cure

Maybe you've read about the fatal horse disease currently raging in the west called equine infectious anemia. Many horse people know it as swamp fever. There is neither a vaccine nor a cure. The sick horses suffer from intermittent fever, they are depressed, they grow progressively weaker, they lose weight, and they have anemia and edema. For a more technical description, go to http://www.ag.ndsu.edu/pubs/ansci/horse/v1195w.htm. Let's think of those horses and their desperate owners today, and hope that veterinarians find a solution soon for this terrible scourge.



Monday, May 23, 2011

Iroquois Steeplechase 2011




Readers, meet my friend Robert, pictured above with his daughter, Kimberly. He kindly consented to write his impressions of the wonderful Iroquois Steeplechase, held on May 14th. As a Jump Marshal, his is a unique view. Thanks, Robert!

Iroquois Steeplechase 2011


Saturday, May 14th, was the 70th running of the Iroquois Steeplechase at Nashville's Percy Warner Park.


My thirty-something daughter Kimberly and I were Jump Marshals, along with hundreds of other volunteers at the Iroquois, and Marilyn asked me if I would write a guest blog about my experience this year. I was happy to be asked and anxious to write this!


I have been to the Iroquois five times. Once as a spectator in General Admission on the hillside. Once with press credentials which allowed me to be all over the grounds observing everything. And three times as a volunteer Jump Marshal which keeps me near one jump for all the races, but very close to the horses, with nothing between them and me. I can feel them thunder by! I guess there is a bit of danger that adds to the thrill. This year, I invited my daughter from Knoxville to be a Jump Marshal along with me. Kim and I spent hundreds of hours together at horse shows in her teenage years. In fact she is the person who steered our family into "horse fever" or "horsin' around" in the early nineties. I was hoping we could recapture that feeling of being together at a horse show--and I have to say it worked. We plan to do it every year from now on.


The Iroquois is difficult to write about, because there is too much to write about. It's a horse race, it's a party, it's a fashion show, and it's Nashville on display. It's Nashville's Kentucky Derby (and always the Saturday after the Derby.) One of its prominent signatures is the many beautiful and crazy hats, which I believe was increased this year due to the influence of the Royal wedding. Here is a great link: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.211368625563831.60203.204660386234655. And for a lot of interesting history regarding the Iroquois since 1941, go here: http://www.iroquoissteeplechase.org/RaceInformation/AboutIroquoisSteeplechase.


What part do Jump Marshals play at the race? Marshals are part of the emergency response team who tend to the safety of each of the nine jumps. We are also the eyes and ears of the Emergency Response Director, in case anything happens. In the three years, I've been a Jump Marshal, there have been no problems on my assigned jump or at any of the jumps, although every year there has been a riderless horse, which means the jockey fell off his mount. I suggested to Kim because she was a new volunteer at the jump that she pretend that Classy (her beloved horse) is running in the next race, and do everything you can to ensure her safety. That means all divots filled, all debris picked up, no spectators on the track, and protection and response for any human or horse that possibly go down. The emergency response team at the Iroquois is second to none, with marshals, EMTs, physicians, veterinarians, ambulances, horse ambulances, and life flight helicopters at the ready on site.


I like the Iroquois races because I like horses and all things horse, and this event keeps the interest in horses alive in the minds of Middle Tennesseans. (I have a gnawing fear that the horse is slowly fading away in modern society.) The race also keeps Middle Tennessee economically alive. The last race alone had a $150,000 first prize with $450,000 in total prize money.


Of my five Iroquois experiences, the rain has been a factor (including the Nashville flood of 2010) in all but the first. There is something about the second Saturday in May that brings out the quirky weather. We should be due a nice sunny day next year. I'll see you there!


















Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Killer Nashville is Coming!

Heads-up! Killer Nashville, that splendid conference, is coming again. It will be held August 26-28 at a new place this year, the Hutton Hotel in Nashville. I can testify that this conference is different from most, because I've been to a lot. It features five event tracks for people with, as the website says, "varied interests and experience levels:" a Writing Track, a Publishing Track, a Career Management and Promotion Track, a Forensic Track, and a Fan Track. But there is much more. You might be interested in submitting your manuscript for critique; or participating in the agent/editor pitch sessions, where you can get an opinion about your novel from an experienced reader; or submitting your business plan to a marketing professional; 0r attending a wine-tasting session; or investigating a crime scene staged by the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. (I always make it a point to get to the forensic talks every year.)

Please look me up if you come. I'll be giving a talk on the gothic novel (BRRR, BRRR, SHUDDER, SHUDDER) at 10:00 AM on Saturday, August 27. And you can buy my newest book, He Trots the Air, at the Mysteries & More book room at the conference.

For more about this marvelous conference, go to www.killernashville.com. And be sure to read the exciting news on that page about the new Killer Nashville e-Magazine. Like to write? Here's your chance.


Saturday, April 9, 2011

A Model Equine Hospital in Tennessee


Several weeks ago my friend Robert and I had the extreme pleasure of touring the Tennessee Equine Hospital in Thompson's Station, Tennessee. I use the word "extreme" because we experienced a great deal of satisfaction seeing horses in their stalls recuperating from illnesses that a few years ago might have killed them without the state-of-the-art equipment and techniques at the hospital.


Here are just a few of the services provided there. The hospital has a nuclear scintigraphy ward to diagnose bone disorders. In this procedure, a harmless radioactive substance is injected into the horse's blood. Areas of increased inflammation are revealed, especially where there are bone disorders. The exact location of a lameness can thus be found.


The stalls serve multiple purposes: administering intravenous fluids; accommodating a mare and her foal; adjusting the climate control for a recovering animal; a three-stall isolation ward so that diseases won't spread. The staff can treat outpatients in dedicated areas so that visiting horse patients won't be exposed to hospitalized patients.


If breeding services are needed, TEH provides artificial insemination, with frozen or fresh semen, stallion collection, semen freezing, semen shipping and embryo transfer. Pregnant mares at the hospital are monitored extensively and assisted when they give birth.


Finally, the vets in the sports medicine specialization at the hospital have over fifty years of experience in the field. Horse athletes get expert care at TEH.


Read much more about this model hospital at its web site http://www.tnequinehospital.com/.





Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Read the Prologue to My New Book Now

If you would like to read the Prologue to my new book, He Trots the Air, go to my web site at www.mmfisher.com, and click on the very small image of the book's cover. There you'll also find me musing about writing the book and what I wanted to accomplish.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Connie Holt's Newest Case: He Trots the Air


At the beginning of He Trots the Air, Connie has a string of good fortune, leading her to believe that this year will be happy, vastly different from a year ago when she had to investigate the tragic deaths of three horses. For one thing, employer and friend Cary McCutcheon has acquired Darkling Lord, a Thoroughbred of dazzling pedigree, and plans to run him in the Gold Cup International Steeplechase in October. The colt will train at Fayence in Albemarle County, and Connie looks forward to visiting the horse often to watch his progress. Earlene Collins, who breeds Arabian horses, finds what could be an original Henry Stull (1851-1913) painting hidden in the attic of her pre-Civil War home. Busy with her work, Earlene asks Connie to find an art expert to work with the painting, a task Connie welcomes. And in Denver, where she meets with restorer Patrick Laurent, she reunites with a man whom she has never forgotten.

But on her return from Colorado, things turn dark and dangerous. No one but the reader knows that from the beginning of the novel, a plot has been underway to drug Cary's colt for reasons that have nothing to do with financial gain. Someone has hired three desperate people to commit the crime. Just thirteen days before the Gold Cup, Connie and Cary learn that something is going to happen to the horse. They start a relentless, time-starved investigation complicated by too few facts to go on, the continuing frustration of speculation without foundation, and the strong possibility that they won't be able to solve the puzzle and save Darkling Lord from harm. As both the conspirators and Connie and Cary move closer and closer to race day, tension and worry grow almost unbearable. The climax comes in front of the colt's stall on the day of the race--and no one is ready for what happens.
If you would like to read He Trots the Air, just click on Contact Me Directly (under the book cover to the left) to order an early autographed copy. I'll tell you how you can get it now, and at a substantially lower price than after June 15.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Introduction to Connie Holt, Continued

The Case of the Three Dead Horses starts during a November storm when the hilly roads in Central Virginia are covered with ice. At a breeding farm in the Blue Ridge Mountains, Connie Holt finds a prize stallion dead in his stall--and a dead man huddled in the corner. Connie suspects the horse was murdered but finds no evidence. Had the killer put the murder into motion only to be killed by his victim? Or was he himself a victim? Then two more horses die, and she must find the killer.

Tension and suspense mount as Connie moves closer to discovering the murderer's identity. Among the suspects are Rod Payson, a breeder whose wife's tragic death has plunged him into depression and financial ruin; Pres Carter, a vet who needs money to restore his ramshackle antebellum mansion; Tony Stephens, a mysterious northerner who presides over a fabulous estate but a touch-and-go horse venture; and Beau Taylor, a troubled stablehand. As she pursues the truth, Connie is helped by her boss, Cary McCutcheon, who shares her devotion to horses and their welfare.

But her investigation is complicated by her hopeless love for married vet, Jase Tyree, who cherishes their friendship but is consumed by problems with his faithless wife, and by Jake Wampler, a lustful state trooper who delights in harassing her on the road at night.

To Connie, the elements of the mystery are like "shards of colored glass with odd shapes." When at last she pieces them together, the completed mosaic reveals a horror she couldn't have foreseen.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

More on Connie Holt: The Case of the Three Dead Horses

More on Connie Holt, as discovered in The Case of the Three Dead Horses. Connie is a former teacher from a rust-bucket city in the north, who comes to Virginia with her husband Mike, to whom she has been married since they were teenagers. He hopes to start a consulting business to help companies with their computer problems. But he fails again, and when Connie won't go with him to another city and another failure, he leaves her with a little money and a rundown truck. At a restaurant where Connie is working as a waitress (she's terrible at it), she meets customer Cary McCutcheon, presiding over a table of horse trainers and owners. He watches with kindly concern as the tall, thin woman with unruly red hair jugggles a large tray of hot beef and gravy sandwiches. There's something about her that appeals to him, and when she apologizes for her clumsiness, he offers her a job at the McCutcheon Equine Insurance Agency. She's successful as a receptionist but becomes fascinated with the investigators' jobs and soon asks Cary if he'll train her. By this time, he has come to admire her even more for her willingness to work hard. Overcoming the local prejudice against women in field work held by many of his male clients won't be easy. But eventually she wins them over by sheer persistence. Things are going quite well for Connie until horses start dying for no good reason. That is when The Case of the Three Dead Horses starts in earnest.

Tomorrow, a little about the plot of this first novel in the Connie Holt series.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Connie Holt Back with Another Mystery

I'm happy to say that my second Connie Holt mystery will be officially published June 15th of this year. Connie has put up with a lot of grief from me, first in The Case of the Three Dead Horses, and now in her newest adventure, He Trots the Air. And by the way, since the story is about the steeplechase this time, I think Shakespeare's lovely words about the joy of riding a horse fit the story very well: "When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk; he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it . . . "

Keep your eyes on this site, and you'll read more about Ms. Holt and her adventures as an equine insurance investigator. I'll also tell you how you can get the new book right now!

Monday, January 31, 2011

Racing Fans Know the Truth about Drugging Horses


The National Thoroughbred Racing Association recently surveyed 1,250 fans who bet or attended races weekly. They all agreed that the worst blemish on racing is drugging horses illegally. Washington Post reporter Andy Beyer who has written about this issue for a long time said, "The use of illegal drugs is so widespread and so out of control that these are not assorted brush fires that have to be put out. This is like a raging forest fire."

Beyer's comment is one reason I chose to write about doping horses in my new novel, He Trots the Air. It is a horse abuse issue that put both horse and jockey in danger and can result in death.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Fire, Ice and Sickness


Several weeks ago, my family and I were struck with calamities for which we were entirely unprepared. A dear daughter's home started on fire and that same daughter had to have surgery during this time of desolation, worry, and chaos. To make everything worse, we were experiencing a severe winter with ice, snow, car wrecks, and everything else that plunges people's lives into disarray when nature fails us. To say that our lives were turned into a muddle is, of course, an understatement.

Our family approached our calamities in our usual way: find a way to solve the problems and do it now! And many people helped us. Consolatory messages poured into my computer from everywhere, with requests to pass them along to my daughter. From a western state, my son immediately sent a marvelous device overnight to enable the burned-out family to have the Internet. From a northern state, my older daughter offered any kind of help we needed in soothing calls. Friends and acquaintances from the neighborhood and the children's schools and groups appeared with hot food and promised all kinds of assistance, including transportation. And the neighbor on the next hill over, in a burst of generosity, offered his home for the family to occupy while he and his wife and dog were in Florida. Insurance companies are constantly reviled, but this time, the company acted immediately, breaking down what has to be done into categories and organizing a work schedule.

A wise friend of many years counseled, "It is time for everyone to bite down hard and endure." And while I knew this, having bitten down in the past until my lip split and bled from stress about other calamities, I was confused this time. How to endure the ravages of fire when I've only experienced ice storms, tornadoes, the flooding of last May, and the illness and death of family members? It was hard to keep focused on tasks I had promised my publisher that were becoming more demanding; to find out what practical help I could give besides verbal encouragement; to be careful when the roads finally became passable; to get enough sleep through all of this so that I was able to, yes, endure and be of service too.

Today, my daughter has come through the surgery well. Everyone's worst fears failed to materialize. Her beautiful log house on the hill is filled with the acrid smell of smoke which stings your eyes if you try to enter the house; dirt tracked in and out, the depressing sight of one window boarded up. The inviting hominess of fireplace, comfortable furniture, and good cooking smells are gone. The good news is no one lost their lives, including the dogs. And important things were saved in the chaos and frenetic activity as the fire burned, including the musical instruments family members play, precious documents, and favorite things everyone snatched and ran outside with. The neighbor's home is large and comfortable. The two dogs are comfortable too. Luckily the family barn didn't burn since it has its own electrical supply; the dogs have settled into a warm barn. And the reconstructive work is progressing. In April, the outside will be warm and beautiful, as in the picture above, and hopefully, the house will be habitable again.

Most important to this story, everyone is back to doing their everyday tasks, although in a different setting and a disrupted time pattern: school, Parkour lessons, instrumental instruction, providing for the family's needs, doctor's visits, coping with the constant questions workers have about the house and what they propose to do with it--all of these are filling each day. But we are all somewhat clumsily back on track. Including me.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Why Cats Should Be Kept Inside

What is this, you say? If you guessed it's a cat in a roll basket and not a fur pie, you're right. But why did His Plumpness cram himself in there a few months ago? The answer lies in an article I read in the January/February 2011 issue of All Animals, the excellent magazine of The Humane Society. The article is "Peaceable Backyard Kingdom," by Karen E. Lange. She argues that cats should be kept inside, for their own well-being, as well as for the well-being of the animals outside.

First, she uses her interview with Dr. David Zanders to summarize what can happen to a freely-roaming cat outside:
  • puncture wounds and infections inflicted by other cats in territorial fights
  • abscesses on the back from being grabbed with teeth and claws by a non-neutered cat who wishes to mate
  • broken bones from being hit by a car
  • injuries inflicted by people who don't like cats
  • fleas and parasites that can be passed to people
  • diseases such as leukemia
  • kidney failure (perhaps the cat has drunk antifreeze)
  • talon wounds from hawks and owls who try to attack small cats
  • death from being eaten by coyotes, trapped, poisoned, or ripped apart by a car engine when a homeless cat tried to get warmth from lying on the engine

Letting your cat roam? Dr. Zanders says that "It's like letting your child go downtown [alone.]"

How about the other side of the coin? What do outside animals have to gain if cats stay cozy inside? When free-ranging cats, foraging from dumpsters, scavenging any way they can, feel they must hunt, reptiles, small mammals, amphibians, and birds suffer:

  • bite and puncture wounds
  • skin torn and ripped
  • feathers pulled out
  • death from infection

So the idea here is, spay and neuter your cats and let them live with you indoors. And oh, yes, why did the fat cat above crawl into the basket? Answer: he did it for fun. With time on his paws, free from danger, and well-fed, he can experiment with changing his environment slightly--albeit in a basket too small for him. Lately, I've placed a much larger basket--his increased girth prevents him from entering the little basket any more--on the dining room table facing the backyard, where he can gaze at the birds outside the window and fall asleep at his leisure.

Find more at http://www.humanesociety.org