The good news is, she's feeling better. The bad news is...

...that made her an incorrigible, insufferable, hormonal, raving lunatic Wench for the vet this morning. Oh, wait. She's in raging heat like I have NEVER seen before on this mare. Never in all the years I've owned her, have I had to clean her back legs or seen her flash at the boys quite so much. Disgusting. 


There, I think that covered it. 


Oh yea, and I did a face plant into my front porch the other night and thought I broke my foot. After x-rays, it turned out to just be a sprain. But, my gimp of a mare was walking better than me today. Go figure.


Anyway, after speaking with the vet the other day, we agreed on an exam. Plus, she was slightly overdue for her coggins, so needed an appointment anyway. The barn owner and I brought her up to speed on everything that has happened since the emergency call back in February.


She goes to examine the right hind. Ms. Wench (as she will be known from here on out) kicks her. Yes, I'm serious. The vet smacked her a few times, although IMO not quite hard enough. Ms. Wench-Drama-Queen proceeds to freak out like she's never been smacked for bad behavior (let's be honest, I would have kicked her back and have, on several occasions in years past). She backs up, dragging me into the barn and almost knocks herself out on the top of the door frame when she tries to rear. 


Sigh. Alrighty then. 


Shank goes from her nose to her mouth. She knows I'm mad because I don't put it there anymore. She licks and chews and settles down enough for the vet to examine the leg, put antibiotics on it, etc. We talk about a plan of action and then the vet gets ready to draw blood for the coggins. At the sight of the needle, Ms. Wench starts flipping out. I tighten the shank a little bit and release when she stops. When the vet gets close enough to stick her, Ms. Wench shifts into reverse and starts pulling and threatening to rear...again. 


Nuh-uh. We're NOT playing this game. You're being ridiculous and exceedingly dangerous. Not to mention the fact that I've had MORE than enough of the attitude. So do us all a favor and lose it.


I stop her and move the shank from her mouth to her upper gum, under her upper lip. My disclaimer is this: putting a chain there is a last resort on any horse. I hate doing it. I don't pull or tug, I tighten it enough to release the endorphins and release. Unless they pull back, in which case, they're pretty much doing the same thing a pinch collar does to a dog when the dog pulls.


She immediately stops. Now there's no question she's in DEEP trouble. (In fact, if I could recreate this scenario, I'd be doing it over and over and over until she stood there like she's supposed to.) She eventually puts her head down for me and calmly lets the vet stick her and draw blood. I remove the shank as soon as the vet removes the needle and give her a handful of alfalfa pellets then lead her back to her stall, where she proceeds to flood the place.


Charming, mare. Absolutely charming.