The 'C' Word

The subject of this photo might be gross to many but to me it is a masterpiece! Done by my little man, KC. This is number three, THE ONE we were waiting for arriving in the afternoon on Monday. What a holiday celebration!

On Sunday evening my panicky assumption turned out to be right! He was colicky and of course it is a holiday weekend, and of course the vet needs to be called. Thankfully we have the BEST veterinarian in the whole world! And the staff is stellar, too!

It all started on Sunday. We had some things to do before we could ride out, naturally, and the day heated up as the weatherman predicted. We chose to go to a place with lots of woods/shade and wet water crossings. We also rode on Saturday. This is the first time in over a year that we rode two days in a row.

After we loaded them into the trailer around 11:30 a.m. both of them took at least one dump. This is normal for our guys.

We got to our destination and he says, "what is the shortest way to the Woodstock?" So we head out the shortest way, but because the woods are full of hikers/bikers and other horse people, we chose other paths that would easily accommodate passing others. This made the shortest way longer.

Along the way we meet lots of riders and hikers. Only a couple riders did we know previously. The trail etiquette is to let the larger party pass, while the smaller party goes off the path. Some people don't know this. The horses, mostly, are beautiful. Colorful, athletic specimens. And riders are dressed in their riding outfits, all different, all very cool.

One larger than us two group pulled off the trail and let us walk on. One of the guys said, " your hair matches your horse!" I said, "I know! I did that on purpose since he's not a gray." Everybody laughed. Unfortunately this is very true. I was coloring it anyway, why not color it to match my horse? He's not a gray, like his mother and sister, I don't want to be gray, so win/win.

We rode on, choosing another way over the original because of the thinness of the trails. This made the trip longer. We stopped along the way to eat grass, but the boys didn't want to drink at the creek crossing.

We rode on to the restaurant. It was hot, the boys were drenched. We had brought their halters and lead ropes so we could tie up at the tavern. They were glad to be stopped, resting, even with the motorcycles and cars whizzing by.

The bar was not crowded, it being 'Rolling Thunder' weekend in DC. Pretty much anyone with a motorcycle was at the rally downtown. The bar was relatively quiet, service was quick.

We left about an hour later, taking the most direct way back. But it was not close, and we took options that made the trip longer. We stopped to do trail maintenance, with the boys taking the opportunity to urinate and eat lots of grass in the shade. We took another path, which prolonged the journey further.

KC had not taken a 'dump' since he got on the trailer around 11am, it was now almost 5pm. I didn't think he was feeling well, and he was wet from head to hoof. Without further ado we got them on the trailer and on the way home.

We got back in about 35 minutes, and hosed off the boys in the driveway, they were wet to begin with and sweaty. I didn't wait for them to dry off like I usually do, just turned them out. KC immediately rolled, like he always does, but he didn't go all the way over. He jumped up, ran into the run-in shed and rolled on the other side, but not all the way over. One side with dirt stuck to water, the other with hay.

He ran back out, running through the pasture like he got stung. I was very concerned since he doesn't do this (he's too lazy). I grabbed a rope and chased after him, leading him into the trees in the corner and he started pawing down there, like he wanted to roll again. I'm freaking out by this time. I'm screeching at Tom to look it up on the internet, I think he's colicking, or something - HELP ME!

I bring him into the dry paddock, trying to get him into his stall. He's staggering by this time and walks right into the wall. BANG! He hits his head pretty darn hard. Now he's shaking his head, plus wringing his hind leg and stall-kicking. He never does this (he's too lazy). I'm into full-blown freak-out.

Tom comes back, confirming that he is exhibiting the classic signs of colic. Call the vet!! Call the vet!! He gets through immediately (one of the reasons I love my vet!) He hands me the phone. I'm freaking. I say, "ask me the questions." She does, I answer truthfully, she says she's on her way.

Dr. Sarah arrives in 15 minutes. Wow - that was fast. I notice, also, that she is pregnant.

The procedure for alleviating colic is bizarre. If this were done to a person there would be a lawsuit, for sure. The physiology of a horse is so different from humans that it is hard to wrap your mind around it. The main issue is that horses can not vomit. Ever. Ain't gonna happen. Which brings about the steps. I've stopped freaking out.

So, Dr. Sarah is pregnant. She has to stick the entire length of her arm, to her armpit, up his butt. She's concerned that he might kick her. Understood. I assure her that he probably won't do that, he was 'imprinted' at birth and is very tolerant of invasive procedures that otherwise would be considered assault if he were a human.

I am holding his head, she's up to her armpit up his butt. He's fine. She pulls out manure. Sure enough, he's full of it and it is not coming out without an intervention.

Next steps: Fill this bucket with warm water. Tom runs to the house with the bucket. I walk KC around the dry paddock, one last effort to go on his own. No dice. Tom is back with the bucket. She pours a half gallon of Mineral Oil and 2 pints of powdered Gator-aide. Smells like salad dressing.

Now she puts the 'twitch' on his nose, twisting it tight - he's stunned! Wha??? Tom gets the task of holding that tight, pinching his nose. Next she runs three feet of plastic hose up his right nostril! Someone call the cops for pity's sake! Then she uses a plunger-like stainless-steel pump to syphon the entire bucket full of the Mineral Oil mixture into his nose, which goes directly into his stomach. She pumps the whole thing. She also blows in the tube, essentially giving him 'gas.'

This episode takes less than 4 minutes. She's good, he's more concerned with the twitch, it is over. She pulls the tub from his nose, releases the twitch and it is done. He's full of warm water, Mineral Oil and Gator-aide plus air. Now my job is to wait, and wait.

I'm waiting for him to take a dump. She said the first one will be 'hard' and what we're really looking for is the one with all the Mineral Oil in it. That one will be 'easy' and possibly explosive, so don't get behind him when that one arrives. The first one will hurt him, probably, and he'll go back to the original signs of colic. If that happens, give him some Banamine with a handful of grain for the pain.

I read a really good book, "700 Sundays" by Billy Crystal. If you get a chance, give a read. I sat in a lawn chair outside his stall door reading until 2:30am. He did urinate, but that was all. I was pooped so I went into the house to have a lie-down. I woke at 4:30, went out to check on him, no dump in the stall, went back to bed, woke at 6:15. No action.

I resumed my position outside his stall door. Tom brought me coffee! Mid-morning he did take that first dump, and it was hard. He was definitely straining. Tom gave him banamine and he did feel better.

Dr. Sarah called to check on him. Everybody stayed in, it was so bloody hot, in the mid-90s, no breeze. Tom went to the Big Orange Box to get fans for the barn, one for each stall. I left Skip's doors open, he wandered in and out, but stayed mostly inside, next to his buddy.

I finished "700 Sundays." He took another dump, another hard one, but was not straining as much. I'm pooped, and it is hot. I have other things to do, but I'm watching him like a hawk, hanging outside his stall, waiting.

Tom takes him out of his stall, it's mid-afternoon. He walks him around and around the dry paddock. He's got gas, too. He follows Tom around and around. Then he stops, Tom is still walking. Wait!! He's lifted his tail, WAIT! He's doing it! 'It' did not shoot out of him like I thought it might. Fell out, with a heavy plop. And it was greasy and beautiful, just what the Doctor had ordered. We all felt better. What a relief!