04/30/2026
Where to begin?
How about here: at part 1 (of who knows) āDefine Dissectionā
I have been following Becks Nairn for several years and sheās opened my eyes on many things people really arenāt exposed to, first from a training perspective and clinically relevant discoveries as a somanaut/bodyworker. Trekking deeper on this journey and realizing I need to know anatomy better, and that whatās in the anatomy books isnāt even often what you see anyway in the real world (that complicates things doesnāt it?) I toyed with the idea of going to a dissection one day. I kept my eye on Becks.
Iāve had my heart horse for six years now. I got on him for the first time just actually five years ago this week as Facebook memories reminded me. He is 9 now. Didnāt race much and wasnāt worth a damn racing, but he did race. He came off the track at 2 1/2. At this point, I still didnāt know everything I didnāt know but I knew it was a lot. I was frustrated because the other two Horses I had before him were deemed by my bodyworkers and chiropractors, my friends, to be not rideable. of course they saw things I didnāt, or couldnāt. I was frustrated because who gets a horse if not to be able to ride them. I just couldnāt wrap around the idea of having somebody tell me these horses shouldnāt be ridden when I saw them as perfectly capable of being ridden- my vets agreed. So who do you believe? Of course, with my heart horse, she also told me to wait, and something even scarier- that I should get neck rads on him, whenever it was feasible.
I didnāt. Until he was five and something was seriously wrong: my horse was unrecognizable. One of the least finer moments of my life had me also putting him up for sale I was so frustrated with him. I couldnāt figure him out, why my training system worked with every other horse- but him. I felt like a failure. I was pushed to get rads for neck changes and lo and behold came the diagnosis from Aiken and Pam over at Eqqus Soma- unilateral ECVM C5-7 deformities with transposition C6 onto C7. No joint left in facets- arthritis.
At 4.5 years oldā¦
So clearly, this was a chronic, not acute thing. You donāt just get arthritis overnight. So he has been arthritic for probably several years before that, to not have any joint left in your facet.
I was devastated. And also felt like a really, really sh*tty person.
Since then, the gelding continued to go in spirals up and down. Pam had informed me that I could donate him to be dissected and participate in the dissection, if that was a route I wanted to go. I was all for it, despite mourning, prematurely, my best friend and feeling like I had failed him. And there my life shifted. My best friend was now on a dissection list, and I was in real mourning for someone not yet dead- but at the same time, low key interested to read the story his body had written. All the chapters. Everything he so gracefully covered from human eyes behind his carefree and jokester demeanor. I wanted to know every single thing happening to this horse that I had never considered.
but he continued to get better, and by the time the dissection was near, we saw no reason to put him down. I asked him if he wanted to goā¦ and I swear to God, I heard a voice as clear as day say āNo. Itās not my time yet. Iām not ready.ā and out loud I said to him in reply, āOk. As long as youāre willing to fight, I will fight for you. With you.ā
This was the horse I bought sight unseen off of Facebook knowing he was the love of my life. We formed a bond I can only describe as ethereal. Too perfect, too spiritual for this world. We were in essence, one. This was my 1.20 horse, my prelim horse, my horse to get my medals on and make a name for myself in the horse world finally onā¦ and while Pam reassured the rads werenāt a death sentence, fulfilling my plans for us would maybe be unrealistic at this point and if we managed to succeed somehow, could possibly destroy him. So the expectation was- low. Incredibly low. The vets swore (4/5) he would never even likely be comfortable in a field, no pasture puff hope to be retired at 4.5yo before he ever got a career. I knew he wanted a job so I told him to pick a useful new purpose, and he became a guinea pig. A foal babysitter. My best company.
And we spiraled.
Up and down
Round and round
I wanted off the roller coaster which was getting too much for me to emotionally handle- every time I made the decision, he would bounce backā¦ back and forth, 200lb underweight, to fascinating condition.
The moral if youāre still here?
I was fully prepared for three years in a row to dissect my own horse and share him with the research world so other owners and industry pros may learn from him/us. But (thank God) he continues to choose life here. And every goddamn year just gets better and better when vets canāt make any sense of why he isnāt worse and worse. In any event, thank God I wouldnāt be taking apart my own horse just yet, but I still felt drawn to the experience with particular influence from Hedley.
So there are actually very few dissections in this part of the world a normal person has access to and many less that I actually get to hear about. And many less yet that are financially feasible- of the three or possibly four that I have heard of that in the last year almost all of them were over $12-1500. And at the end of last year, Becks announced a very limited US tour- I knew I had to be in it.
The location was local-ish
The price tag - I could make it work.
I signed up immediately, paid really not knowing how Iād make it work, and waited impatiently for April 2026.
This week, as I went about my life liaising between the horse world and the non-horse world, one of my non-horse friends asked me what the occasion was that I was back in town this weekend. āi took part in a dissectionā I told him. He seemed confused; āa dissection? Whatās that?ā
In the moment, I was also confused that he was confused. While it is not a very normal response to hear your friends say that they were in town for a dissection (and he did ask me if that was normal for horse people lmao because I seem to be doing these things), I did think a 50+ something-year-old man with a doctorate degree teaching at a university should not be asking me what a dissection is. What was he even doing in school? Even if he purposely skipped going to class on the day they dissected the frog or even the cat in high school- he would definitely know what a dissection isā¦ but since Monday Iāve been thinking.
Examining: what really is a dissection?
A dictionary will tell you the act of taking apart a dead body of some kind, examining and unloading the insides, cutting through tissue- usually for research or knowledge. Most often to find a cause of death.
But what is it really?
Like, reallyā¦
That got me thinking.
Our group of 30+ ladies mostly osteos, bodyworkers, saddle fitters, and some farriers got to read the chapters of a 20+ year old quarter horse named Sissy. To say ādissectā or cut her up almost feels barbaric. What we did was open the book of her body to see what it had to tell. How it could explain the difficulties her beautiful owner noticed she was experiencing. And we did it like art, every movement was purposeful.
Dissection is when you open a body with intention, where you take time to explore tissues piece by piece. Where you become (or remain) in awe of the work of the Creator. When you separate and observe internal structures like a puzzle and see what pieces are on the floor that youāre missing. For me, dissection is a spiritual experience because you handle the meat suit that was once occupied by God him/herself. While the Spirit may no longer be chained to this same Earth in the uniform she wore previously, it was her home and her friend. We must then never forget we are touching where God once breathed through. Moved through. Taught from. In our hands lies the magic mystery of the whole universe. I kept this in mind every cut, every touch, every smell.
The dichotomy of nature teaches us that death isnāt the end of the line but a bus stop in the middle. It does not exist as a permanent state- nothing does. One of the biggest fallacies this culture preaches is that death exists, but really it doesnāt. Itās just another expression of life and in fact is inseparable from it. Sissy will now live through me as it becomes an honor to share her with you all too.
I will be gathering my thoughts more succinctly in the next few posts related to this experience, but I can only end on the gratitude in my heart to her owner for sharing this precious gift of her horse, opening my eyes further, advancing my technical and spiritual knowledge this weekend. I felt Sissy present the entire time, and it was well worth the chaos to get there. Stay tuned for part 2.
ĀæAsĆ o mĆ”s claro?
