Horses- when instead of being the therapy, they cause you to need it

As anyone who has horses can attest, they are the best therapy anyone can ask for.  It doesn’t matter how bad my day can be, once I get to the barn and spend time with my horses, my mood instantly improves.  Even just cleaning stalls and petting them  is good for the soul.  But, also as anyone who has horses can agree, sometimes they aren’t the therapy but are the reason we need it.  Sometimes they are the ones causing the anxiety.  Not gonna lie- the past few weeks mine have been trying to send me into full on panic attack.

It all started with a possum attack.  Okay- maybe “attack” is a strong word.  It all started with an oppossum in the pasture.  I got a message from Libby one afternoon that there was an oppossum along the fence line and of course my horses had to go investigate.  Not only investigate, but several of them managed to get bit or scratched on their faces because they aren’t smart enough not to stick their faces where they don’t belong.  And you would think after the first one, they would figure it out.  Oh no- one after the other they had to stick their faces down at the possum.  Cant you just imagine how that conversation went? 

China: “What the hell is that thing?”

Peach: “I don’t know, let’s check it out.”

Sully: “I’ll smell it.” Jerking back suddenly, “sonofabitch- it bit me!” 

China: “oh no he didn’t.  I’ll show him.  God damn it, it bit me too!”  

Kenya: “I’m out of here- that thing is mean.”

Peach: “No seriously, I got this.   I’m sure you guys aren’t intimidating-ow! WTF!” 

(Yeah- so I’m not a big fan of this “fact” meme right now...)

Anyway- Libby messages that the possum is just hanging out along the fence line and our horses have been bit or scratched.  Warning bells go off and I call our vet who recommends dispatching the possum so we can send it in for rabies testing.  I don’t own a gun (or care to shoot one), there is no gun at the barn and the Olmsted County dispatch wasn’t interested in sending someone to help out with possum patrol either.  What to do?  Lynelle to the rescue.  Armed with a pitchfork she went all medival gangster on the critter and ended his life.  

I arrived at the barn with my box and together we peeled it off the tines and bagged it.  Then we put it in the box because I had this very real fear that this thing was just playing dead and I would be driving to the vet clinic at 55 mph with a rabid possum wreaking havoc in my Traverse.  And of course in my mind, it would be coming for me. 

I delivered my prize to the vet clinic and waited anxiously by the phone for several days to hear the results.  We monitored the horses for change in behavior but obviously they are already neurologically challenged since they didn’t know enough to keep their faces where they belong.  After several anxiety ridden days (that were only slightly reassured by everything I read that said possums are rarely rabid and very nearly immune to rabies), we got the call that the specimen was negative.  Hallelujah! 

We no more got that reassurance when we started to notice a change in behavior in Kenya.  At first she wasn’t super interested in her grain.  I wrote it off as spring time funk.  She was drinking less,  but I assumed she was drinking more outside during the day since there were literally puddles everywhere.  Then she stopped finishing her hay bag, but again- I wrote it off as eating more during the day and maybe just not as hungry at night.  Then I spent some time riding her.  I noticed she had lost weight, which I wrote off as a growth spurt, but upon lunging and getting her ready for riding she was uncharacteristicly calm and quiet.  While I wanted to believe she was just growing up and turning into her sister about things, when she didn’t touch her grain or water that evening I knew it wasn’t good.

Our trusty vet came the next day and discovered that she had a definite wheeze to her breathing and crappy sounding lungs, even though she had not coughed or had a runny nose, we put her on antibiotics and waited for the blood work.  The blood work showed that she had an infection, but worse- her body wasn’t trying to fight it on its own.  She had less white blood cells than normal, no fever and lower than normal count of something else that I’m not 100% sure what it was called.

The next day she was worse yet.  Still not eating or drinking and extremely lethargic- even acting beat down, just standing listlessly in the corner of her stall.  The vet started her on IV antibiotics, pain meds and something to help with the dehydration and we waited and prayed.  Thank you to all who prayed because the next day we still didn’t see an improvement. This was the point where I started to fear for the worst.  The cost of the daily vet visits was freaking me out, but now the vet’s bigger fear was the infection, lack of food and dehydration leading to the “c word”, colic. I asked for prayers and my friends and family didn’t have to be asked twice. 

Our prayers were answered the next day when she started to perk up and began eating and drinking again.  We gave her all the hay she could eat and buckets full of water.  Another day passed and her appetite was back in force.  By the following day she was back to nickering for her grain and emptying her hay bag.  She was also a bucking, farting happy mess in the round pen and later on the lungeline.  I’m sure my bank account is going to feel a little sick after all the vet calls and visits lately, but thankfully- our horses are all happy and healthy again.  Let’s hope they keep it that way!