"I guess you feel better!" I laughed.
Her stomach had been through a slight trauma so her ration that morning was only half of what she normally gets to eat, but she didn't realize that. I soaked her grain in some warm water to make a mash and gave her some ProBiotic paste to help regulate her stomach and intestines.
Remi was busy napping in the straw when we arrived. Even when Rose was pounding away at the door and calling to us, he simply raised his head to watch what was going on. Only when we put the food in the stall did he finally get up.
I was so relieved that Rose was okay. The night before I was obviously worried, but things were so busy that I didn't have a lot of time to dwell on the possibilities. I tried to just be thankful she was fine, but I couldn't prevent my thoughts from straying to what might have been. I began mentally preparing a list of things that I could do preemptively to stop colic before it starts again.
I walked into the stall while the horses were munching hay and looked at the automatic waterer. It was a three gallon blue plastic bucket mounted to the wall with a water attachment hooked up. It had a float valve so that when the water level dipped below a certain point, it would fill itself up. The problem with this bucket was that it was so large that the lower half of the bucket was never cleaned and the water didn't circulate much. I leaned closer and caught a whiff of the water - it smelled like terrible stagnant fish water! Ugh!
"Teri!" I called over the door. "This water is disgusting! It smells like nasty old fish water. I certainly wouldn't drink it and I can't believe I'm expecting Rose to!"
"Really? That's gross. Do you think it would fix it if we cleaned it out?" she asked.
"Well probably but I'd have to do it every day. I'll clean it out right now and see what we're dealing with. Can you hand me that scoop?" I gestured to the grain scoop.
She handed it to me and I began scooping water out of the bucket - but of course it had an automatic fill so it kept pouring more water in. Luckily I scooped water out faster than it filled. I couldn't turn the water supply off either so I was outta luck. I got as much water out as I could, and then discovered a two inch deep layer of sludge on the bottom of the bucket. It was sand and old food and hay pieces and dirt and algae. It drizzled thickly through my fingers as I tried to lift all the crap out of the bottom but there was just no way I was going to get it all out. I attempted to mix it into the water and then bail more water out of the bucket but I just couldn't get all of it.
"This is ridiculous. I'm not doing this every day." I muttered to myself. I let myself out of the stall and walked over to the old foaling pen. Rose had a big water barrel in that stall, so I just took it and washed it out, then brought it into the box stall and filled it up with water. As soon as Rose saw me putting water in the big barrel, she dipped her head into it and began to drink deeply.
"Looks like Rose was feeling colicky last night because she was dehydrated - didn't want to drink the fish water." I was so upset that their water had been neglected and she simply stopped drinking it rather than make herself sick. And then she got sick anyway from not drinking. Teri walked up to the stall door and peered inside.
"Wow she's really drinking. Think this new barrel will fix the problem?" Teri asked me.
"Yeah, I'm willing to bet that she'll only drink out of this now. I can't disconnect the automatic waterer anyway so that's good I guess." I stood and held the hose into the barrel so it would continue filling.
Later that night she got her full ration of hay and grain, but I soaked the grain to make a mash again. Just to be safe.
Finally I felt confident that I had solved the water problem. I knew they were healthy and safe in that stall and they had good food and clean water. What a relief.
Everything had been going smoothly for us after the colic scare. Remi was behaving great, picking up his feet and leading like a champ, Rose felt wonderful and I was exercising them in the round pen in preparation to start riding her again.
I came home from work the following Friday afternoon (I got out of work at 1:00pm) and made myself some lunch. I plopped down on the couch after a long week to watch some television. Around 2:30pm my phone lit up and vibrated. I glanced at the display. "Nancy Florez is calling." my phone told me.
"I don't have the energy for you right now." I told the phone, and pushed the 'Ignore' button. A minute later my phone notified me that I had a voicemail.
"Yeah whatever. There will still be a voicemail when I have more tolerance for Nancy. And that is not now." I cackled to myself.
Another minute after that, a text message popped up. Again, from Nancy.
"Seriously? What?!" I flipped open the phone and hit 'OK' to read the text.
"UR mare cut her nose and is bleding evrywher. U need to come look at t."
Awesome. Looks like I should actually listen to my voicemail from Nancy. I dialed my mailbox and put in my code. Yes, I know I have one new message. Yes, I know who it's from. Just play the damned message.
"Hi Ashleigh, this is Nancy from Foothills. Your mare cut her nostril open and the guys say she's bleeding pretty bad so you should probably call a vet out to see her. Give me a call when you get this. Thanks, bye."
This is not happening. I knew I needed to go evaluate Rose, so I dragged myself off the couch and pulled socks and boots on. I drove over to the barn, dreading what was waiting for me in that third stall down.
By the time I got out there, it was 3 o'clock and the horses had just been fed. I could see that Rose was eating, that was a good sign. She had her whole face stuffed into her hay and I couldn't see her muzzle.
I took her halter from its hook outside the stall and let myself in. I walked over to Rose and backed her up so I could put the halter on her head and check the wound. She grabbed one last bite of hay before I could move her away from the feeder. Her nostril had hay sticking to it and I couldn't really see the cut very well. I gently plucked the hay out of her nostril and the wound.
On her right nostril, she had a two inch gash that ripped the flesh upward from the outside flap of skin. She snorted and the wound flapped around and sprayed me with hay, snot and a little bit of blood. The cut wasn't actively bleeding and it obviously didn't bother Rose enough to stop her from eating, but it was certainly a concern. I carefully looked at her nostril and felt the edges of the cut. They were slightly swollen and beginning to harden. It was no longer bleeding and was starting to try and heal itself.
This was not a new injury. Well, in the grand scheme of things it was new but in the course of a day it was old. Teri had fed grain that morning around 6 am and Rose was fine. Sometime between 6 am and 2 pm she had ripped her nostril on something in the stall, but it was not fresh. My guess was that she'd done it probably right after Teri had seen her, because this wound was definitely hours old already. The cut itself was simply a cosmetic issue, it wasn't as if she had torn an ear off or ripped her leg open. It would heal itself and be fine if we left it completely alone. Yet I still wanted to try and fix it if at all possible. First thing I did was call my vet friend Catherine for advice. Luckily, she answered the phone even though she was working.
"Hey, I got a call this afternoon from the barn manager saying that Rose ripped open her nose, so I'm out here right now and she's got a nice gash up her nostril. Nancy wants me to call a vet but I just shelled out $400 last week and I can't afford to pay someone to come out on another emergency." I explained quickly.
"Well I can come down and sew her up but I can't leave here until 6. It'll take me two hours to get to you after that." she offered generously.
"Wow that's so great of you. Thank you so much! What should I do in the meantime?" I asked, wanting to make sure I acted quickly on the things I could accomplish.
"You need to clean and scrub it really well, get all the dirt and hay out of it. You can dress it with a salve too, that will keep it cleaner longer and it'll keep the flies away from it. Then she needs to be started on antibiotics to prevent any infection. You can buy injectable penicillin from the feed store, and I'd start her on those injections as soon as possible. You can give her a little bute for the inflammation too. I'll call you when I'm on my way tonight." Catherine ticked off all the things for me to do.
"Okay I'll go get supplies right now. Thanks a bunch, see you tonight." I replied.
"You're welcome, goodbye!" she hung up the phone.
I let Rose go and hung her halter back up. I immediately got back into the truck and headed to the feed store down the road. At the store, I picked up some betadine scrub, rolled cotton, a new tub of nitrofurazone ointment to dress the wound, and a bunch of 35 cc syringes and 18 gauge needles. I took my purchases up to the counter and asked the sales woman if they sold injectable penicillin.
"Yes, we have two sizes. 100 cc bottle or a 250 cc bottle?"
"I'll take the 100 cc bottle, thanks."
She rang up everything and it came to about $85.00. Not really cheap, but certainly inexpensive compared to another $400 vet bill. I hurried back to the barn and stuck the penicillin into the tack room refrigerator, since it had to be kept cool. The betadine has to be diluted for use so I put some water in a shallow pan and added a squirt of betadine. Then I tore a few pieces of thick cotton from the roll and put them in the betadine solution to soak. I brought the betadine pan and Rose's halter back into the stall. I tied her to the bars so she wouldn't escape, although I was anxious about tying her up in case she flipped out when I cleaned out the wound. I didn't have much choice since I was the only one there.
I held the cheek piece of her halter firmly with one hand and with the other, started gently cleansing the outer edges of her cut. This didn't bother her. I cleaned a little more firmly and thoroughly. She tossed her head at first but settled right down for me. I got a new piece of cotton and continued cleaning, holding the wound open and digging out all the hay wedged into the flesh. At my vigorous cleaning, the edges started to bleed just a bit. If a wound doesn't bleed, I know I haven't cleaned it well enough. I stood back and looked at my beautiful mare, with a big ol' ripped nose. When she moved her head too quick, the nostril would flop around sickeningly.
I sighed and set the betadine pan down. I took a scoop of the bright yellow nitrofurazone salve in my fingertips and applied it all over the cut and the skin around the cut. Then I sprayed fly spray into my palms and rubbed it into her muzzle to prevent flies from getting anywhere near the injury.
I told Rose how brave she was and how tough she was being. I rubbed her forehead and stroked her neck while talking to her quietly. Slowly I moved the syringe up to her neck and chose my injection location - the magical triangle where all intramuscular injections go. I pulled her skin up and inserted the needle into the muscle. Rose flinched and took a single step away from me but I just moved with her and she settled down. I drew back on the plunger to ensure I hadn't hit a vein, and since I got no blood in my syringe I pushed the plunger down to inject the first 15 ccs of penicillin. After 15 ccs I pulled the needle out a little and then without taking the needle out of her muscle, I redirected its tip into another section so I didn't overload one place with too much liquid. I pushed the remaining 15 ccs into her neck, and then withdrew the needle. I applied pressure over the injection site with my fingertips to keep the penicillin from leaking back out. After a few moments I took my fingers away. She had a large lump on her neck where the penicillin was injected. It takes some time for the body to absorb the antibiotic, the lump would decrease in a day or so.
Injectable penicillin has to be given twice a day for 5-7 days. Each dose is 30 ccs. Morning and evening injections have to alternate sides of the neck, otherwise it's simply too painful for the horse to endure.
I put Rose's grain in her bucket and added a gram of bute powder to the top, then doused the grain with water. I mixed everything up so she would be forced to eat the powder in the grain. Bute powder is an anti-inflammatory and would make her a little more comfortable, but it's a very bitter medication and most horses won't eat it if it's not mixed in well.
By this time it was 4 o'clock. Catherine was still four hours from being at the barn. In my head, I thought about how old the wound seemed. I used to work with Catherine, and we did a number of lacerations in our time together. I knew that a wound more than 6-8 hours old could not be sutured because the wound edges would start to heal themselves and the sutures would be unsuccessful.
Common sense told me that the wound was already too old for Catherine to sew it up. And in four hours who knows what it'll look like?
I sent Catherine a text message at work. "Hey, so I'm pretty sure Rose's wound is too old to suture. Don't worry about coming down tonight. Thanks anyway!"
A few minutes later I got a text back. "Ok well if its too old then youre right, sewing it up wont work. After it heals I can always come down and cut the edges back and then sew it back up right. Keep me posted!"
I calculated the dosages in my head and realized that I was pretty dumb to only pick up a 100 cc bottle of the penicillin. I could make it two more doses and then I'd need a new bottle. I did not feel like going back to the feed store again so I mentally made a note to go again the next day.
I didn't want to, but I knew that if I didn't call Nancy and tell her what was going on she would call me again. I regrettably dialed Nancy's number.
The phone rang and rang and rang. And then her voicemail picked up. Triumph! I listened to her recorded message and then left my own after the beep.
"Hey Nancy it's Ashleigh. I got your voicemail and I'm out here with Rose right now. I got the wound all cleaned up and she's been started on antibiotics, and I also spoke with a vet. The wound is too old to be sutured, so we're just going to keep it clean and medicated and let it heal on its own. Thanks for calling." I clapped my phone shut, pretty happy that I didn't actually have to speak with her.
I cleaned up all my doctoring supplies and left them in the spare stall, since I would be needing them twice a day for the next week. I put the penicillin back into the fridge and headed home.
Teri got home around 5:30 that evening. As she walked in the door, I was lounging on the couch.
"So, guess what your horse did today?" I smirked.
"My horse, huh? Which horse is that?" she looked suspicious.
"Rose." I answered.
"Oh, Rose is my horse now. Even though you're the one who picked her and bought her without telling me." she retorted.
"Yup. She's my horse when she's good and wonderful, and your horse when she's naughty or troublesome." I smiled back winningly.
"Great. What did she do now?" Teri already looked defeated at the mere idea of something else going wrong.
"Apparently right after you left, she caught her nose on something in the stall and ripped it open. She's got about a two inch gash in her right nostril. Nancy called me this afternoon after work." I recounted.
"That's fantastic. Is she okay? Did you already take care of her?" she queried.
"Yeah, she's alright. She actually didn't seem very bothered by the whole thing. I called Catherine and she told me what to do, then I went to the feed store and bought supplies. I got her all doctored up and started on antibiotic injections." I answered.
Teri grimaced.
"I guess our accidental pregnancy went too smoothly and then Remi was born perfectly healthy and now we're getting our payback?"
"Yeah..." I paused. "I suppose so. Let's just hope that these two weeks have been our punishment."
"They say that these kind of things come in threes..." Teri only looked halfway joking.
So, every day for the next week we had to clean the wound and apply the salve to help it heal, and I was in charge of giving the penicillin injections. Rose was definitely unhappy about being stuck with a giant needle twice a day but she was a real trooper.
The ripped edges of the nostril began to shrink and heal over slowly.
I was so proud.
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