Sometimes the path of greater resistance isn't the best choice..

Chessa

Today in the pouring, blowing frigid rain, I had to go check on the horses. I hate days like this. I woke up with a headache and it lasted until lunch. Not a good start to a miserable day. 

As I was arriving at the front gate, the horses weren't anywhere to be seen. Drat! That meant I would have to walk to the back field and holler for them. First, I took the opportunity to set out their feed in individual pans so that I could avoid the near stampede that always comes from jostling for best positions.


I opened the round pen door so that Chessa and her mom Star could go in and eat without the others fighting them for the food. I was ready for the short trek. All the while bracing myself against the stinging rain.


As I went over the small hill, I saw the herd at the bottom of the field. I banged on the bucket a couple of times and the ears immediately went up and procession began towards me. I turned and sloshed through the mud back to the barn to wait for them. 


First came Miss Daisy, swishing her tail and head held low as she led the way. Following her was Cowboy, his long legs perfectly in step behind Daisey. After him was little Chessa, trotting to keep up, followed by her mother Star. Then came Codey, my massive paint, watching with wary eyes. Always on alert, ready for any action needed to protect his herd. A perfect line of equine beauties.



About the time they reached the top of the hill where the cross fence has a gate, the wind picked up and spooked Chessa. In an instant she veers to the right and darts down the fence line. The rest of the horses continue onward toward me. I watch in fear as Chessa decides that she will not be left out and takes a upward spring- straight into the fence. The fence is made of horse wire, topped with a single strand of barb wire, secured with metal t-posts. Great for keeping out predators, ie dogs and coyotes, but not so good when a horse decides to jump it. 

It was like a slow motion clip as I watched Chessa jump, land into the fence on her side and the fence topple over all in a smooth motion. I see she is clearly tangled and begin running to her aid, knowing how awful things can get with a horse flailing to get unstuck with weight and hooves on their side. I make it about 20 yards when she breaks free. She trots down the hill and straight into the round pen and calmly begins eating her oats. 


My heart is in my throat and I force myself to walk -not run- to the pen to shut the gate and check her out. Remarkably, she is unhurt. A few scratches to her nose, but nothing more. I take a deep breath. Or maybe I exhaled. I really can't remember, I was so relieved. 

As I take a look around at the other horses, it dawns on me that something else is amiss. Something isn't as it should be. Maybe because of the drama that just unfolded, it takes me a moment to figure out the problem. 1-2-3-4-5-...where was number six? A quick inventory told me that Lacey was missing. Oh crap! Lacey was always first in line for food.


I quickly jogged up to the top of the hill and scan over the pasture, wiping the rain from my eyes. I didn't see her anywhere. As I headed down the hill, the sense of dread spread through me to my very core. I had unfortunately been in this position before. It is not a pleasant place to be at all. 


As I searched in all the usual places, I was beginning to think that she had escaped the field, or maybe someone had stolen her. Nothing was adding up though. As I reached the far corner of the field, there she was. Standing stock still with her back to me. As I approached her, she looked at me but didn't move. I did a quick look over to be sure she wasn't injured. It is hunting season and my first thought was that maybe she had been shot. I usually have woven hunter orange into their manes and tails by now to avoid having some idiot mistake them for deer. I didn't see any blood.

Maybe she was lame or had foundered. We had just set out new bales of hay and had begun recently to feed them rolled oats mixed with some sweet feed. Small amounts but still it was new to their systems after

eating green grasses all summer. She looked sound and sure footed without any signs of founder or lameness.

I talked to her in a soothing voice that I really didn't feel. My heart was pounding. I tried to get her to follow me. She wouldn't. I broke off a switch and shook it at her and hit the ground to get her to move. She took only one step. Not a good sign.


I decided to go and get a halter and lead rope to see if I could lead her back to the barn where the other horses were. Still the rain fell and the wind blew. As I jogged through the slushy mud, I had real fear in me. I grabbed the halter, did a quick check on Chessa and the others, and headed back to lower field. Lacey was still standing in the same spot I had left her. She stood without protest as I placed the halter over her head and buckled it in place. Once I had the lead rope attached, I gently tugged on her to follow, which she did reluctantly. She walked slowly all the way back to the barn. 

When we approached the other horses, it was as if they knew something was wrong. They all started nickering at each other and they left their food bowls to come stand beside Lacey as if to comfort her. 

I took her into the stall and closed the gate. She seemed outwardly ok. But I could tell she wasn't 100%. I checked her gums; they were nice and pink. I listened to her gut; it sounded gurgly. She had been passing gas. That was a good sign.

I do not coddle my horses, but I do believe in taking swift action if they are sick or injured. So first I called my trainer/adviser to see what he thought before paying for the vet to drive out for something that may not warrant his attention after hours. My trainer came right over as he lives just a few short miles away. He looked at her and assessed the situation as I did. He walked her around a few times. We discussed any recent changes and came to some conclusions. 

It could be the wormer that I had given her a few days before. It could be the change in her diet with the addition of oats and sweet feed. It could be the change in the weather. The bottom line was she had a belly ache from something. She wasn't showing signs of colic-yet. She wasn't rolling or kicking her stomach or looking back at it. She was passing large amounts of gas. That in itself could be a good thing since that meant their probably wasn't a blockage. But we shall see. 

As time went on, she seemed to feel some better and perk up. My trainer left feeling that it didn't seem to be life threatening unless she exhibited more signs of distress. I agreed. She wanted back out in the field, so I allowed her to go and followed her. She immediately went to the hay pile and then back to her original spot at back of the field. I followed her out there, I realized that she was getting out of the wind. But along the way she stopped to nibble on acorns that fallen from the tree. Could this be the culprit?


While acorns are not good for horses, these horses have been in this same field for years without ever having any problems from occasional nibbling on acorns. But perhaps this year the crop was different...At any rate, time was going to tell. 


By this time I am soaked and chilled to the bone, a bug had flown into my ear during the whole fence drama, a mouse had run over my foot and took a few more years off my life, and I was mentally drained.


With everyone quieted and appearing to be in no imminent danger, I decided to head home to change into some dry clothes, grab something warm and return in a few hours to recheck the situation and if necessary call the expensive vet out.

I was contemplating suiting up for the 35 degree weather, when my neighbor who owns a horse herself called to tell me that she had gone out to check on the horses for me and that all was well. Whew! That means that I can wait a couple of more hours before I return to the field. 

Hopefully Lacey will only have a passing tummy ache and be well in the morning. And hopefully Little Chessa will not choose to take the path of greater resistance next time. Owning horses is not for the faint of heart.

Lacey