Now that the crisis is over, I can kinda laugh about it. Kinda. Not really.
Out doing barn chores in Vermont. 8:30 pm. Dark. 22 degrees Fahrenheit. Water freezes on concrete into ice in seconds. Literally. Just the opposite of trying to fry an egg on hot pavement in the middle of summer. Would have done barn chores and been inside already beside the fire. But for the fact that the youngest daughter had basketball practice. And we had to go feed 4 dogs and 5 horses up the road. My barn came last. Just works out that way.
Last of the chores. Almost done. Then the sound. Like one of the horses trying to hack up a lung. Except... horses can't puke. Certainly sounds like she wants to. Certainly sounds like she is trying to. And then comes the green goopey stuff flinging out of her nose. Bleck. Double bleck. Enough to get my non-horsey hubby running into the house to call the vet and her Mom. (giggle, giggle) He is not one for goopey green stuff. He hooked up a light so we could see outside and then went into the house. Couldn't handle the green goopey stuff, I guess.
Ok, I have to admit that it made me gag a few times, also. Vet on his way. Mom on her way. Me, outside, in the cold, trying to help her clear her throat. Bleck. Gag. Bleck.
Aspey is standing splay-legged and making the most horrendous sounds. Her legs are shaking and she's hacking so hard it makes her fart. Kinda funny. But very serious. I'm stressing, freezing, wishing the vet lived closer, wishing her Mom lived closer. Thinking just how late is it and is the guy with the backhoe even around this week. (No, no, don't go there.... think positive.) Positively blecky!
30 minutes later, Mom comes. Shortly thereafter, vet comes. Just in time to hear her clear everything out and start munching on the hay in the stall. Guess she figured out what the vet was going to do to her and gave another large gulp and got it gone. No more hay replacer pellets for her.
But, while the vet was here - we might as well make it worth our while. So, off to the barn to take out the rest of the stitches on Elias' fetlock that I couldn't get. Don't have the right scissors. (Long story. Different story) And to check on Buddy. His mildly expensive, imported from Britain (lah, te, dah), heaves medicine is working well. The vet told me how wonderful he looked. WOW! (You know how someone tells you that you did a great job, and it's ok. But when someone who does that something for a living tells you you did a great job, it makes it that much more impressive. I LOVE my vet. Ok - we are both happily married - to OTHER people. But I still LOVE my vet!) Then to look at Buddy's feet as he has been dealing with thrush issues the past few weeks. Doing much better. My religious cleaning of his stall and his feet and dosing with Kopertox are paying off. Now, with the shoes off, hopefully he'll grow back some of the frog he has lost. My cousin (Aspey's Mom) thinks I baby my horses too much. My vet just laughed and said that I'm not the worst he's seen. Hmmm. Maybe I need to try harder?
So, all the vet had to take out of his truck was his flashlight, stethoscope and scissors. He'll send me the bill. Yep. Don't forget that. Don't get me wrong. It's the reason I call him. I pay my bills. He visits when I call. Good working relationship. Keep him happy, he keeps my horses happy. What more could a horsewoman want?
But, on another note, my vet is leaving (what -you can't leave!) for California to the AQHA National Versatility Ranch Horse Competition to represent Vermont. Cool, huh! I hope he wins.
Now it's 10:45. I'm freezing. Haven't had supper yet. Know I'm going to check on that horse at least two more times tonight. I'm going to go hug the wood stove first. No spinach tonight. Bleck.
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