So much for that idea

I was getting dressed this morning, ready to head to the barn, when my cell phone rang. The barn owner's number. At 8:15 on a Saturday. Uh oh.


It was actually the woman who was barn sitting for the weekend...but the news wasn't any better. It took her 30 minutes and a lot of coaxing to get Promise in from the paddock this morning. She said she would barely put weight on the right hind.


Insert expletive here.


Ok, I said, I was just about to head that way, I'll be there in about an hour. 


I get there, and she says she wanted to move Promise to the stall across the aisle, so she would be in the shade, but that she wouldn't walk any further for her. Good idea, I was thinking, looking at the stall in full sun. So, I haltered her and it took a few minutes to get her to go the 10 steps from stall to stall. She kept stopping and giving me this sad look and pawing. I kept patting her neck and telling her I know it hurts, but we're trying to make you more comfortable, so come on.


She finally got into the new stall and after some convincing (seeing a lame horse try to run is rather humorous) -- let me wipe her down with a wet towel to cool her off...I didn't have the heart to make her walk to the hose, nor did I want to create a large puddle in her new digs. 


Then I got about 5 armfuls of hay from the round bale and dropped them into her stall before putting her brushes into an effervescent wash to clean them, and then took off to the feed store down the street to see if they had the herbal pain reliever the barn owner had gotten for her (it's gone, I squeezed the last little bit onto Promise's tongue, but it definitely wasn't 10 mL) and to get some fly spray for the poor dear.


Fly spray. Check.
Herbal pain reliever. Still looking.


The rest of the morning went something like this:


I got back and sprayed her down, immediately making her one happy pony. Less shifting on the leg to kick at flies. 


Take the brushes out of the wash and place them on her regular stall wall to dry. Empty bucket and rinse it.


Clean brush box, and bottles that I keep in it.


Call my mom and ask her whether I should scream...or cry. And then tell her why.


Watch Promise stand with the back half of her body in the rain and not care, because she has 5 armfuls of hay at her feet. She shifts her weight occasionally and does not have full weight on the leg, but for the most part, at least it is flat on the ground.


Make her mash and let it sit in the A/C tack room to keep it away from flies.


Look for the hay net she'd been using last fall. No luck. So, get a wheel barrow and overflow it with more hay and dump it in another part of her stall to encourage her to move occasionally.


Hang out and chat with the barn sitter.


Write a note on the white board saying no turnout for Promise.


Rub some liniment on the right stifle. Need to get more or maybe a poultice?? I can't decide.


Give her the mash, and chat some more with the barn sitter. 


Laugh at Promise with mash all over her face.


Give a handful to Promise's boyfriend, after she splatters some on his face. Tease.


Take her out and coax her down the aisle, out to the front yard, slowly walk a big loop and then back down the aisle.


She looked better and took less encouragement to do this. That's a positive turn, and a quick one.


I didn't call the vet...couldn't see paying for an emergency call on a weekend when I know what they'll say. Stall rest. Anti-inflammatories. Light hand-walking. I'm planning on a minimum of two weeks of stall rest. We'll see how she looks after that. Maybe I can get the barn owner to put a round bale in her stall or something. 


So we're starting back at square one. It's been almost a year of this. I am praying she hasn't done permanent damage. No way of knowing right now. If she has, I have some serious thinking to do about quality of life, and whether she truly comes out of it at a minimum of pasture sound. 


I so don't want to have to make that call. Fingers crossed that it's not as bad as it looked this morning.